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Non Poetry Posts from the Suddenly Thread

Kundalinguini said:
As If

Sometimes you really have to wonder
just how dumb they think we are,
as if the woes we struggle under
get solved with a bigger car;
as if the words "that other guy"
mean "nothing that we need to do"
that if they turn a jaundiced eye
it's got nothing to do with you;
as if the lie "the jury's out"
is all it takes to make it true
when all the experts scream and shout
and say they haven't got a clue.

They roast their critics on page one,
recant their lies on page E-2,
while seasons pass and nothing's done
that means a shit for me and you.
But it's not them my words are flaying.
I don't want them misconstrued.
They think it's just a game they're playing,
but if they lose we all get screwed.

See, angry as those losers make me
I really don't expect much more.
No, it's all those who suffer greatly
and will not show them to the door.
The ones who hear but barely listen,
listen but don't stop to think,
"Hey, maybe they don't have a vision.
Maybe they just need a shrink!"
It's the mass that gives them power,
but never once expects their due,
trusting sound bites on the news hour:
"It's on TV, it must be true."

stupid sheeple

</rant>
Click to expand...

been a watchin the hearings? :)
 
Kundalinguini said:
As If

Sometimes you really have to wonder
just how dumb they think we are,
as if the woes we struggle under
get solved with a bigger car;
as if the words "that other guy"
mean "nothing that we need to do"
that if they turn a jaundiced eye
it's got nothing to do with you;
as if the lie "the jury's out"
is all it takes to make it true
when all the experts scream and shout
and say they haven't got a clue.

They roast their critics on page one,
recant their lies on page E-2,
while seasons pass and nothing's done
that means a shit for me and you.
But it's not them my words are flaying.
I don't want them misconstrued.
They think it's just a game they're playing,
but if they lose we all get screwed.

See, angry as those losers make me
I really don't expect much more.
No, it's all those who suffer greatly
and will not show them to the door.
The ones who hear but barely listen,
listen but don't stop to think,
"Hey, maybe they don't have a vision.
Maybe they just need a shrink!"
It's the mass that gives them power,
but never once expects their due,
trusting sound bites on the news hour:
"It's on TV, it must be true."

stupid sheeple

</rant>
Click to expand...


I love this. Stupid sheeple.

But, you used the word sh**. Perhaps something softer like poop would be more appropriate?

And screwed is ok, as long as you don't use Fuck! I'd hate to see THAT word in your poem.;)

dripping with sarcasm so as NOT to be misconstrued

Like I said. I love it.

Syn :kiss:
 
Syndra Lynn said:
I love this. Stupid sheeple.

But, you used the word sh**. Perhaps something softer like poop would be more appropriate?

And screwed is ok, as long as you don't use Fuck! I'd hate to see THAT word in your poem.;)

dripping with sarcasm so as NOT to be misconstrued

Like I said. I love it.

Syn :kiss:
Click to expand...

i just love it when you drip....
with sarcasm
;)
 
Syndra Lynn said:
I love this. Stupid sheeple.

But, you used the word sh**. Perhaps something softer like poop would be more appropriate?

And screwed is ok, as long as you don't use Fuck! I'd hate to see THAT word in your poem.;)

dripping with sarcasm so as NOT to be misconstrued

Like I said. I love it.

Syn :kiss:
Click to expand...

Oh dam... er... dang... let me get my Sierra Mistunscrewed here...

So is stupid OK? I know it's not PC in classrooms these days. ;)

And Tath's right... :D
 
Last edited:
Kundalinguini said:
But what a nice set of references they are...

Working on beatbop poetry on this page, I see. :)
Click to expand...

I love music and am something of a jazz nut. The "references" line comes from the late great Papa Jo Jones, drummer for many years for the original Count Basie Band. He was an amazing musician and a fascinating human being. :)

Thanks.

:rose:
Ange
 
Re: Re: flavor of the week

echoes_s said:
flavor,
what’s this?
when i taste
I savor
the richness of taste
in my mouth

“swirling” it around
dripping from tongue
to the back of throat
then front again

“a nn a”
are the sweetest sounds
of contemplation
and completion
of essence
the tang
of depletion
before swooping another same
sip again

mmm is addition
addiction
affliction
the missing of another
nibble of you
;)
Click to expand...

nice job
:rose:

Ofcourse it made me hot but that's beside the point
;)
 
Tristesse said:
The hole is too small
This box wasn't meant for one
as big as you.
Too fat by far you
squeeze in and out
looking like it hurts you
to try.
So
why try?

A bird much smaller
was meant to find a home
here
but still you persist,
pulling long grasses in
after you.
A stick, lengthways
defeats you, falls, discarded.

T'will be a messy nest
with strings and twiglets
sticking out
of the too-small-hole.
Click to expand...

i love it
 
Tathagata said:
echoes are mirrors
they don't lie
reproductions of time
how can they be held
captured
enslaved?
echoes are free to travel
to infuse all ears with memories
and wonder
and laughter

echoes come and are gone
and we grasp at the sound
of their soft whisper
Click to expand...

...and I love this! :heart: :kiss:
 
Re: An Intimate Act

Syndra Lynn said:
He touches me
gently at first
then plunges in,
spreads me open

I catch my breath
Christ! a little foreplay please
just breathe-
he won’t take long

Try to disconnect
Try not to connect
What if I respond?
If his touch turns me on?

Would I be embarrassed?
Who me?
Cold touch
yet somehow, there is something

Is that two fingers or three?
just breathe, keep breathing
a slick finger enters my ass
Don’t breathe faster, just breathe

He’s done, hands me tissue
annual tryst
over
gynecologist
Click to expand...


I've never done this before but.....................*giggle*

Nice one!

:kiss:
 
Liar said:
she was weather, never static
always flirting fluctuation
inter dermic, automatic
currents tugging correlation

she was weather, sang the shimmer
just like sunshine through the thunder
misty morning surface skimmer
weeping trails to worlds down under

she was weather, chaos dancer
I was static, concrete coded
she was question, I was answer
but by rain and storm eroded

she was weather, music soaring
in a world of imperfection
I was concrete, but exploring
trying beauty by projection

she was weather, swirling through me
I was worn down weak and hollow
her tonado whispered to me
as I fell to dust, to follow
Click to expand...

Thunder slashes through screaming rain
bolting currents interweaving over
correlation streaming boiled pain
soothed by misted morning clover

softened tempest swirling strains
embracing whispers in caress
a lover’s choice to be again
rocking through shimmered refresh

a splash of yellow dripping smolder
in blued sky of your projection
transforming, head on your shoulder
dancing together, interconnection

You the joy of my existence
not to follow but explore
imperfection is only resistance
as I watch you gracefully soar.
:kiss:
 
Re: conversation

Liar said:
yes?
        yes!
what?
        yes!
who?
        me!
why?
        well...
what?
        you.
me?
        yes.
when?
        now.
oh.
        yes.
so...
        yes?
well...
        what?
now?
        yes!
well...
        please!
oh.
        what?
yes...
        yes!
Click to expand...

Liar? Are you tapping my line? Theres a second part to that you know...
 
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