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Horrible poetry contest!
Go!
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:09, archived)
Poem About Hitler (with cryptic undertones)
Blue eyes.
He turns to Him with a dry gaze,
betrayed by his cross on which
his life was sworn.
For History that day did submit to Truth.
As it had done in ages long past.

“It appears I have lost,”
a profound and futile sigh,
“Though all my battles won with zeal,
they could not compare to the final push.”
A gripping plague of rime,
having stolen his armored one,
fourteen short.

Steel City rise up and claim your prize.
She is yours now.
My sweet Sovereignty.
My sweet Abandon…
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:11, archived)
Good Lord,
who wrote that?
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:13, archived)
I did

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:14, archived)
Wow.

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:15, archived)
I actually find writing poetry quite pretentious,
so it's a shame that I've been given a gift to make up award-winning (seven times) crap on the spot.
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:16, archived)
Indeed. I prefer science fiction.
That's why my favorite poet is Keats, out of pity. Hard not to feel bad for someone who slowly drowned in their own secretions.

[Edit]As poetry goes, however, I rather like this. :)
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:19, archived)
what's fourteen short?

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:21, archived)
Hitler's soldiers gave up as the tanks' engines seized exactly fourteen miles short of Stalingrad

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:22, archived)
whoa, its poetry and
a ww2 history lesson.
You're blowing my mind
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:23, archived)
Slightly more prose than poetry, but I just made this up.

Reticence, a faithless gesture turned to stone, as man and flower become as one among the fields of constant dew.

"Do not turn around," spoke the voice of visceral intrigue, and gave light to a path unwandered, "For within the times which speak of blurry eyes do we seek that penultimate treasure of death."

Thy mnemnosyne, a gesture of truth uttered under a stale breath, written as poetry to quell the tides of breathing, angry hordes.

At once we see it, and in it a glorious light. Therein we find what these fields whisper of so softly. Therein we find our humanity, and a childhood of innocent dreams.

Edit: Sorry if it's not that good, I'm a bit tired. =/
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:28, archived)
Hooo boy,
Screw pretention, you've got a real gift.
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:31, archived)
Tubgirl Fever, by me.

Lovely lady in the tub.
Give that soap a thorough rub.
Rolling over with a swoop.
Shitting streams of lentil soup.
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:40, archived)
Now THAT's
pootry in motions.


do you see what I did there?
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:44, archived)
There went my chinese food.
Its so bad its good...
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:45, archived)
hahahahahaha

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 7:08, archived)
Fish don't have any feet
If they had them it'd be neat.
Instead of fish fingers,
I could have fish toes.
To eat.


/made up on the spot and it shows blog
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:12, archived)
I like it.
If I had children I would read it to them.
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:14, archived)
Lesbians, lesbians,
how I love to watch,
when you nibble nipples,
and lick the lady's crotch.

I like the sounds, I like the sights,
I can but watch, try as I might,
a man in bed gives you a fright,
so I'll just sit here and masturbate.
(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:17, archived)
*claps*

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:22, archived)
Pffft.

(, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 5:22, archived)