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Annoncing my poem! You jey!

champagne1982 said:
your left or brando's left?
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Oh, fine. Thanks. You caught me. I am the guy at the extreme right of the picture.

I am a mean son of a bitch, though. Look out!
 
MTVM said:
The guy on the left looks like Elliot Gould as Rueben Tishkoff.

That can't be right, can it? :cool:
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You didn't know Rueben Tishkoff was in The Wild One? Maybe instead of The Wild Swains, it could be The Wild Schmaltz?

c_rueben.jpg


There are endless possibilities for villanelles here. :catroar:
 
Angeline said:
You didn't know Rueben Tishkoff was in The Wild One? Maybe instead of The Wild Swains, it could be The Wild Schmaltz?

c_rueben.jpg


There are endless possibilities for villanelles here. :catroar:
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Die Wildeschmalz? Nuh uh. Terzanelles, perhaps. Sestinas, definitely (they attract poetic riff-raff). Villanelles? Well, maybe. I certainly hope not.

In mine own opinion the limerick is perhaps too good a fit to be true.

There always is, though, terza rima.

There always is.
 
MTVM said:
<snip>

There always is, though, terza rima.

There always is.
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Singspiel Die Wildeschmalz

Alas, this opera is little known,
lost to the ages, hidden by the years.
Now I step forward, claim it for mine own
ancestor, Frau Tishkoff who had no peers
to match her song among the pens of Minsk,
but I have found her opus, dry your tears,
and sing along now with the hen of Pinsk,
Die Wilderschmaltz! The chicken with a heart
so clogged with fatty hubris you would schvinsk
and qvell, her story tragic from the start,
her final glory crowned upon a plate.
Like John the Baptist (well maybe in part),
Die Wilderschmaltz was destined for a fate
both sad and proud. I only share a taste
of her with horseradish for it is late,
and more details would simply be a waste,
and I must to my bed anon make haste.
 
You people are sicker than the denizens of the GB.

I love it.

The identity of MTVM is suggested in posts #138 and #140 of the other thread.

MTVM is...




TVM!

(Didn't anyone notice that they're never in the same place at the same time?)
 
Picodiribibi said:
You people are sicker than the denizens of the GB.

I love it.

The identity of MTVM is suggested in posts #138 and #140 of the other thread.

MTVM is...




TVM!

(Didn't anyone notice that they're never in the same place at the same time?)
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TVM on his best day and with Aladdin's Lamp couldn't match what MTVM did.

And yeah we have fun on this forum, don't we? Just don't tell anyone that "schvinsk" isn't really a word, ok? :D
 
Angeline said:
Singspiel Die Wildeschmalz

Alas, this opera is little known,
lost to the ages, hidden by the years.
Now I step forward, claim it for mine own
ancestor, Frau Tishkoff who had no peers
to match her song among the pens of Minsk,
but I have found her opus, dry your tears,
and sing along now with the hen of Pinsk,
Die Wilderschmaltz! The chicken with a heart
so clogged with fatty hubris you would schvinsk
and qvell, her story tragic from the start,
her final glory crowned upon a plate.
Like John the Baptist (well maybe in part),
Die Wilderschmaltz was destined for a fate
both sad and proud. I only share a taste
of her with horseradish for it is late,
and more details would simply be a waste,
and I must to my bed anon make haste.
Click to expand...

oy
such sturm und drang

( i like the horse radish part)


der meerrettich bitte

why yes it is
~rimshot~
 
Tathagata said:
oy
such sturm und drang

( i like the horse radish part)


der meerrettich bitte

why yes it is
~rimshot~
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My metaphors and references are way mixed up, but hey it was late. And I get extra points, at least in my mind, for writing about chicken fat in iambic pentameter. :D

:kiss:
 
MTVM said:
Die Wildeschmalz? Nuh uh. Terzanelles, perhaps. Sestinas, definitely (they attract poetic riff-raff). Villanelles? Well, maybe. I certainly hope not.

In mine own opinion the limerick is perhaps too good a fit to be true.

There always is, though, terza rima.

There always is.
Click to expand...

I have called the exterminator several times about the terza rima. We've tried everything, but it's still all over the attic, and sometimes under the bathtub.

Not that it will meet the standards you freaky, twisted geniuses are setting in here, but someone DID mention iambic pentameter.

And it was late. That's my excuse.



That time in me thou may'st now behold
in which I come to womanhood too late
to catch the hunger of the men who told
me of their lust, when I was twenty-eight,

now drives me, late and early through the day,
just come at forty-one into my prime,
and though I let my hunger have its say
I find there is not world enough, and time

now thwarts me, since the bucks who come to drink
see only youngsters, bubble-girls, and I
sit back, called Ma'am, and sadly have to think
this difference is a force I can't defy.

God's darkest joke, that women hunger more,
men less, as aging closes sex's door.



guess it was just a rough night in the cowboy bar...
oy.
bijou
 
Yet another award

Angeline said:
My metaphors and references are way mixed up, but hey it was late. And I get extra points, at least in my mind, for writing about chicken fat in iambic pentameter. :D

:kiss:
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Indeed, that's worth an award.

I say we give her the Pullet Surprise.

bijou
 
unpredictablebijou said:
I have called the exterminator several times about the terza rima. We've tried everything, but it's still all over the attic, and sometimes under the bathtub.

Not that it will meet the standards you freaky, twisted geniuses are setting in here, but someone DID mention iambic pentameter.

And it was late. That's my excuse.



That time in me thou may'st now behold
in which I come to womanhood too late
to catch the hunger of the men who told
me of their lust, when I was twenty-eight,

now drives me, late and early through the day,
just come at forty-one into my prime,
and though I let my hunger have its say
I find there is not world enough, and time

now thwarts me, since the bucks who come to drink
see only youngsters, bubble-girls, and I
sit back, called Ma'am, and sadly have to think
this difference is a force I can't defy.

God's darkest joke, that women hunger more,
men less, as aging closes sex's door.



guess it was just a rough night in the cowboy bar...
oy.
bijou
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To His Cowboy Mistress

Had I the world and stuff like time
You, cowboy lady, would be mine.
I would sit here and think of ways
To do you, twist you, make you play.
Bring out your fond, Tantritic side
Play Ruby Tuesday whilst I ride
You. Humbly, though, and I hope good—
er, well—at least as best I could.
And if you should (don't, please) refuse
I won't start cyberstalking you.
My love will vegetative grow
And lie forgotten, old, and slow.
 
unpredictablebijou said:
Indeed, that's worth an award.

I say we give her the Pullet Surprise.

bijou
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My parents didn't want me to major in English lit in college because they said I'd never amount to anything. A rubber chicken hung over the mantelpeice will prove how wrong they were.

MAGCHX.jpg
 
Reading this thread is like walking into a costume party. Everyone's sounds familiar but I'm just not sure who's behind the mask. :)
 
Sara Crewe said:
Reading this thread is like walking into a costume party. Everyone's sounds familiar but I'm just not sure who's behind the mask. :)
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I'm developing a theory.
There are actually only 12 people on the Literotica board. All the rest are alts.

bijou
 
unpredictablebijou said:
I'm developing a theory.
There are actually only 12 people on the Literotica board. All the rest are alts.

bijou
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We're not exactly people, though. We're Cylons.
 
unpredictablebijou said:
I'm developing a theory.
There are actually only 12 people on the Literotica board. All the rest are alts.

bijou
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I think you're right but I would put the number at around 7. ;)





Is it bad if you like an alt better than the original member? Is that still liking the original person or is liking the fake one disloyal? If a tree falls in a poem but it's not a metaphor is there a noise beyond timber?
 
Lauren Hynde said:
We're not exactly people, though. We're Cylons.
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There are just not enough smart people 'round Lit so they can't hide under alts. Their IQ shows like a kid's feet sticking out from under the bed in a game of hide and seek.



What's a cylon? Er I mean, a Cylon?
 
MTVM said:
I have a kind of nostalgic fondness for seamed Cylons.
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It's hard to keep the seam straight up the back of the leg and one wouldn't want to appear twisted...
 
Sara Crewe said:
It's hard to keep the seam straight up the back of the leg and one wouldn't want to appear twisted...
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Too late for that, wouldn't you say? :D
 
Sara Crewe said:
It's hard to keep the seam straight up the back of the leg and one wouldn't want to appear twisted...
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Twisting and twisting in an upturning spiral...

Oh, wait. I already did that one.
 
unpredictablebijou said:
Indeed, that's worth an award.

I say we give her the Pullet Surprise.

bijou
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Bijou, no one makes me laugh out loud as you do. Very funny! :D
 
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