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POETS CORNER...
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"Is this thread reserved only for decent poetry or are we allowed to post the crap you get in greetings cards that sort of poetry?" Fill you boots M8 . i'm just having a selfish moment ..lol it will pass no doubt on here ...   | |||
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"Is this thread reserved only for decent poetry or are we allowed to post the crap you get in greetings cards that sort of poetry?Fill you boots M8 . i'm just having a selfish moment ..lol it will pass no doubt on here ... "Cos your poem was good...and it seems you know what you are doing. My poetry is shit and full of cliche's lol | |||
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"... and yours came from the bum Ruggers! " Wasn't my bum it came from though | |||
"Poetry is subjective. What is good to one is not to another. While we are at it .... well , while I'm at it..... Is any old rubbish that anyone writes a piece of poetry .... A few lines. I saw your face. I liked what i saw. Your face burned in my heart like a dagger against candy floss seedlings. What utter shite. I wrote that. What is poetry ? " Yes it's subjective - much like any other art form. And that's what makes it interesting. If the images it creates in the mind of a reader evokes an emotion then it has served its purpose. One person may see it as beautiful - another may consider it shite. It is what it is to the reader. | |||
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Fabbing the pics that turn you on?
They're timewasters mate they're having you on!
Looking for beauty but landed the mingers?
Welcome my friend to the land of Fabswingers!!  | |||
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"She whispered "will it hurt me?" "Of course not" answered he "It's a very simple process, You can rely on me." She said "I'm very frightened, I've not had this before. My friend has had it five times And said it can be sore." It was growing rather painful Tears formed in her eyes It was hurting quite a bit now It must have been a size. "Calm yourself" he whispered "His face filled with a grin "Try and open wider So I can get it in." "It's coming now" he whispered "I know" she cried in bliss Feeling it deep within her now She said "I am glad I'm having this." And with a final effort She gave a frightened shout He gripped it in anguish And quickly pulled it out. She lay back quite contended Sighed and gave a smile She said "I'm glad I came now You made it worth my while." Now if you read this carefully The dentist you will find Is not what you imagined It's just your dirty mind!! " Trust you to lower the Tone .... | |||
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" Trust you to lower the Tone .... "No it's you dirty mind Ade  | |||
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"Granny...oh! I love you so Especially in your nighty When the moonlight flits Across your tits Jesus Christ almighty!! "Dogger is fickle , Dogger is weak Doggers insanity forbids him speak Truth he evades as he circums about. Watch Dogger wriggle , see him bail out. | |||
"I already love you. Did that move you ? It did me. I agree with what you say but your explanation falls short of defining poetry. By your definition ( which incidentally is a widely held one ) all utterances transcribed are poetry. That's rubbish. " I did say poetry contains some poetic element ... doesn't necessarily have to be rhyme or flowery adjectives but may be set out in a certain way to evoke and emotion the poet is trying to convey. They may not always be successful of course. Your one liner, sweet as it was, wasn't poetry. It was a short statement. The other amusing ditties 'could' - and would - be described as poetry by some .. whether you consider them to be or not is where subjectivity comes in. There are whole books full of such 'poetry'. Some people buy it. | |||
"Granny...oh! I love you so Especially in your nighty When the moonlight flits Across your tits Jesus Christ almighty!!
Dogger is fickle , Dogger is weak
Doggers insanity forbids him speak
Truth he evades as he circums about.
Watch Dogger wriggle , see him bail out."Now THAT'S poetry! | |||
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"Granny...oh! I love you so Especially in your nighty When the moonlight flits Across your tits Jesus Christ almighty!!
Dogger is fickle , Dogger is weak
Doggers insanity forbids him speak
Truth he evades as he circums about.
Watch Dogger wriggle , see him bail out."Granny my lovely, you make me laugh Your witty retorts are thoughtless and crass The banter, the quips, the pearls of wit Who would've thought your brains made of shit I giggle with mirth and tears fill my eyes When I think of ya bum and its girth and size How I wonder how someone can slander and gloat When you've turned from a love to an old tug boat I love your replies, I love your crude chunter I love the way you know how to banter And now my old dear my hat I shall doff And bow as you pass and tell you to fuck off! | |||
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"Roses are pink Violets are yellow Just look at the crass and ignorant fellow He imagines my ass akin to titanic He sweats and he frets until he is manic He wants me , He craves me, He needs me inside. Not beating his heart but his hairy backside. It's spotty and loathsome and there's need to be bl*nt He might be a dick but he's my favourite **nt ! " Of course dear old Granny I'd play with your fanny I'll fetch my rope and ladder I'll kiss you and squish you and it'd be bliss to But watch that slack bladder We don't want piss on the floor! | |||
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"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. . It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. . It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. . I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it. . I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human. . It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. . I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. . I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.' . It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. . It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. . It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. . I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. "Bit nosey arent ya .... | |||
"Completely missread forum title. Thought it said PETS CORNER. Was hoping to stroke an old goat ;o) "Ask Granny nicely | |||
" Bit nosey arent ya .... "Pfft……"me Nosy"
Hey there’s nowt wrong with trying to remove the guesswork out of an equation !!!!!
“Nosy indeed” ……… Pah !!!!!!
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" Bit nosey arent ya ....
Pfft……"me Nosy"
Hey there’s nowt wrong with trying to remove the guesswork out of an equation !!!!!
“Nosy indeed” ……… Pah !!!!!!
"Hmm, i'm just walking here amongst your lines some searching questions that may give me away i wont answer now but maybe another day but i will say this it's good to see you still cant resist .... | |||
now thats poetry | |||
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"The country lane, oh sweet retreat, away from city clatters. The sun does shine on crops of gold, the emerald leaves there to behold The breeze in soft assuring tones will whisper ‘nothing matters’. The country lane, oh sweet retreat, be gone the stress and worry. Where nature shows and does not hide the palette of the countryside Compelled to gaze by wondrous sight, let go the want to hurry. The country lane, oh sweet retreat, the meadow rolls afar. The dancing of the wild flowers, I could watch for endless hours And almost miss and fail to see the doggers wanking by my car. " luv it. it bored the tits of me till the end line | |||
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Rememberance of a Kiss
----------------------
Laying back in water
In this, the only private place,
Eyes closed, gently floating
In the memory of a face.
I feel the water lapping,
As I move to it's caress,
My lips are curling in a smile...
Rememberance of a kiss.
Slipping Under, into the quiet
A dream becomes more clear,
All other thoughts are banished
as I draw my lover near.
I slowly break the surface,
fill my lungs with air,
Slowly raise a hand,
run fingers through wet hair.
The rivulets of water
like kisses on my skin
Awaken desires for my lover deep within.
" I want your tongue" I whisper
And invite him past my lips,
Instinctively, my body yawns
Raising up my hips -
Then down again.. and down ..and down
in reverie.... pulsating,
I guide his fingers through the wet
Of that warm place in waiting.
Every aching part of me remembers how it feels
How bodies move in unison
'til nothing else is real,
and so I cum, esuriant for
more than times recalled,
For lovers new, the saints, the liars,
this heart accepts them all.
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"I did one
Rememberance of a Kiss
----------------------
Laying back in water
In this, the only private place,
Eyes closed, gently floating
In the memory of a face.
I feel the water lapping,
As I move to it's caress,
My lips are curling in a smile...
Rememberance of a kiss.
Slipping Under, into the quiet
A dream becomes more clear,
All other thoughts are banished
as I draw my lover near.
I slowly break the surface,
fill my lungs with air,
Slowly raise a hand,
run fingers through wet hair.
The rivulets of water
like kisses on my skin
Awaken desires for my lover deep within.
" I want your tongue" I whisper
And invite him past my lips,
Instinctively, my body yawns
Raising up my hips -
Then down again.. and down ..and down
in reverie.... pulsating,
I guide his fingers through the wet
Of that warm place in waiting.
Every aching part of me remembers how it feels
How bodies move in unison
'til nothing else is real,
and so I cum, esuriant for
more than times recalled,
For lovers new, the saints, the liars,
this heart accepts them all.
"I take it your shower not sealed yet then M8 ? | |||
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"Kung Fu International. Outside the take-away,Saturday night a bald adolescent, asks me out for a fight He was no bigger than a two-penny fart he was a deft exponent of the martial art He gave me three warnings: Trod on me toes, stuck his fingers in my eyes and kicked me in the nose A rabbit punch made me eyes explode My head went dead, I fell in the road I pleaded for mercy I wriggled on the ground he kicked me in the balls and said something profound Gave my face the millimetre tread Stole me chop suey and left me for dead Through rivers of blood and splintered bones I crawled half a mile to the public telephone pulled the corpse out the call box, held back the bile and with a broken index finger, I proceeded to dial I couldn’t get an ambulance the phone was screwed The receiver fell in half it had been kung fu’d A black belt karate cop opened up the door demanding information about the stiff on the floor he looked like an extra from Yang Shang Po he said “What’s all this then ah so, ah so, ah so.” he wore a bamboo mask he was gen’ned on zen He finished his devotions and he beat me up again Thanks to that embryonic Bruce Lee I’m a shadow of the person that I used to be I can’t go back to Salford the cops have got me marked Enter the Dragon Exit Johnny Clarke " John Cooper Clark, aka the bard of salford or the punk poet, plagerism Tobes ? | |||
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"Kung Fu International. Outside the take-away,Saturday night a bald adolescent, asks me out for a fight He was no bigger than a two-penny fart he was a deft exponent of the martial art He gave me three warnings: Trod on me toes, stuck his fingers in my eyes and kicked me in the nose A rabbit punch made me eyes explode My head went dead, I fell in the road I pleaded for mercy I wriggled on the ground he kicked me in the balls and said something profound Gave my face the millimetre tread Stole me chop suey and left me for dead Through rivers of blood and splintered bones I crawled half a mile to the public telephone pulled the corpse out the call box, held back the bile and with a broken index finger, I proceeded to dial I couldn’t get an ambulance the phone was screwed The receiver fell in half it had been kung fu’d A black belt karate cop opened up the door demanding information about the stiff on the floor he looked like an extra from Yang Shang Po he said “What’s all this then ah so, ah so, ah so.” he wore a bamboo mask he was gen’ned on zen He finished his devotions and he beat me up again Thanks to that embryonic Bruce Lee I’m a shadow of the person that I used to be I can’t go back to Salford the cops have got me marked Enter the Dragon Exit Johnny Clarke John Cooper Clark, aka the bard of salford or the punk poet, plagerism Tobes ?" SMIFFY! Someone has nicked my favorite poem! How about this one. 'Oh Wet pet' | |||
"Roses are red, violets are blue. Some poems rhyme, but this one doesn't!" Okay here's one I posted on the forum of my favourite story site: Roses are red, Your rabbit's angora, You can't base romance, On fauna and flora. | |||
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laughed out loud. | |||
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