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WickedEve said:
Living or... otherwise? I'm having disturbing images.
My buzz toy is a pink bunny and he says screw you! I'll never give up Mister Bunny!
I think one of his ears is getting ready to fall off.
Click to expand...
Where's my kiss?
My new, improved orgamatron has a bottle-nosed dolphin tickler. Bunnies are for pussies :p.
 
I'm in one of those I Hate My Writing periods. You know, those times when even scribbling out your signature on the check for the phone bill you go, "Geez, that's a stupid name. Oh, and that handwriting sucks."

Well, that's the hell I've set up camp in now. I was reading Louis Zukofsky today (wait—that could be part of the problem right there) and started trying to write something Serious. This is never a good idea, even for Ezra Pound. Maybe especially for Ezra Pound. Anyway, my happy trippling fingers barfed up this:
In this universe
there is no parting of the waters,
no division of light from dark.
I am born nor into sin nor chains, just borne
upon a phosphate ladder
that I need not learn to climb.
My world was built in 40 weeks,
give or take a few, and then I sank into the river
and began to swim. . .​
Ouch. I mean, could I even be more pretentious?

Uh, yeah. Of course I could, and have been. But you get the idea.

It's not even like I don't want to be pretentious. I am the King of Pretentiousness, goddammit, and pretty effing proud of that. But, well, I want to be at least a little bit funny about it. That excerpt above reads the way a boiled and starched tuxedo shirt looks. It's so stiff you could kill a bird with it. Smack the poor thing in the head and you're roasting squab for dinner.

So then I'm thinking what do I do? Writing something silly sometimes helps. Like a pronographic [sic] limerick:
Poor lady, sweet Frances Purcell.
Her labia started to swell,
And quick as a flash
Henry slipped in her gash
While composing a motet as well!​
OK, I think. Not bad. But then I realize that, aw shit, I can't even do that right. Wikipedia, the Delphic Oracle of Online Hipsterdom, informs me that it is not purCELL but PURcell, which just like totally screws my meter. At that I can feel my poetic dick go limp as overcooked penne.

So maybe I'll try inspirational verse. That "my feet sink deeper into the Sand of Life because I carry your heart on my shoulders" kind of thing.

Hmmm. Maybe not.

Eve has sex toy poems sewn up, not that I know much about those anyway, so I can't do that. Angie's got jazz. El whips my ass on philosophy.

Maybe I could do roadmaps:
the heartline of the interstate
red as arterial blood
through California's young, green body​
Or maybe not.

Perhaps I should just
you know
be
.....quiet.


Shhh.
 
Tzara said:
I'm in one of those I Hate My Writing periods. You know, those times when even scribbling out your signature on the check for the phone bill you go, "Geez, that's a stupid name. Oh, and that handwriting sucks."

Well, that's the hell I've set up camp in now. I was reading Louis Zukofsky today (wait—that could be part of the problem right there) and started trying to write something Serious. This is never a good idea, even for Ezra Pound. Maybe especially for Ezra Pound. Anyway, my happy trippling fingers barfed up this:
In this universe
there is no parting of the waters,
no division of light from dark.​

............

Perhaps I should just
you know
be
.....quiet.


Shhh.
Click to expand...

With all the angst in this post, there has got to be a poem just waiting to explode from you.

Now all you need do is find it.

.
.
 
Tzara said:
I'm in one of those I Hate My Writing periods. You know, those times when even scribbling out your signature on the check for the phone bill you go, "Geez, that's a stupid name. Oh, and that handwriting sucks."

Well, that's the hell I've set up camp in now. I was reading Louis Zukofsky today (wait—that could be part of the problem right there) and started trying to write something Serious. This is never a good idea, even for Ezra Pound. Maybe especially for Ezra Pound. Anyway, my happy trippling fingers barfed up this:
In this universe
there is no parting of the waters,
no division of light from dark.
I am born nor into sin nor chains, just borne
upon a phosphate ladder
that I need not learn to climb.
My world was built in 40 weeks,
give or take a few, and then I sank into the river
and began to swim. . .​
Ouch. I mean, could I even be more pretentious?

Uh, yeah. Of course I could, and have been. But you get the idea.

It's not even like I don't want to be pretentious. I am the King of Pretentiousness, goddammit, and pretty effing proud of that. But, well, I want to be at least a little bit funny about it. That excerpt above reads the way a boiled and starched tuxedo shirt looks. It's so stiff you could kill a bird with it. Smack the poor thing in the head and you're roasting squab for dinner.

So then I'm thinking what do I do? Writing something silly sometimes helps. Like a pronographic [sic] limerick:
Poor lady, sweet Frances Purcell.
Her labia started to swell,
And quick as a flash
Henry slipped in her gash
While composing a motet as well!​
OK, I think. Not bad. But then I realize that, aw shit, I can't even do that right. Wikipedia, the Delphic Oracle of Online Hipsterdom, informs me that it is not purCELL but PURcell, which just like totally screws my meter. At that I can feel my poetic dick go limp as overcooked penne.

So maybe I'll try inspirational verse. That "my feet sink deeper into the Sand of Life because I carry your heart on my shoulders" kind of thing.

Hmmm. Maybe not.

Eve has sex toy poems sewn up, not that I know much about those anyway, so I can't do that. Angie's got jazz. El whips my ass on philosophy.

Maybe I could do roadmaps:
the heartline of the interstate
red as arterial blood
through California's young, green body​
Or maybe not.

Perhaps I should just
you know
be
.....quiet.


Shhh.
Click to expand...

Write a Found poem.That's what I do when I can't like my own words. And I know how you feel. I've thrown away ten times (or more) than I've kept because I so hate the way I sound.

I've been watching MSNBC. Even your off meter limerick sounds miles more substantive than the speech I just heard. And you're not even running for office. :D
 
I wish I had time to write what with a semi invalid in the house who won't do his exercises and I just cleaned out the spare room for my sis coming tomorrow lost a battle with a fax machine (how many guys do you know can graze their leg on a fax machine?) . I have to go order food online, do a quiz, iron his regalia (haven't even found his shirt yet) goodness knows what I am wearing (what did they wear in medieval times?) oh and pot up two dozen plants ..... and here's me still chatting to you guys
 
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UnderYourSpell said:
I wish I had time to write what with a semi invalid in the house who won't do his exercises and I just cleaned out the spare room for my sis coming tomorrow lost a battle with a fax machine (how many guys do you know can graze their leg on a fax machine?) . I have to go order food online, do a quiz, iron his regalia (haven't even found his shirt yet) goodness knows what I am wearing (what did they wear in medieval times?) oh and pot up two dozen plants ..... and here's me still chatting to you guys
Click to expand...


Just goes to show ~ a married woman's work is never done.

.
.
 
Now he's phoning my mobile from downstairs asking why I am not doing anything ...... saints preserve us from martyrs cos if we had the strength we would surely strangle them
 
UnderYourSpell said:
Now he's phoning my mobile from downstairs asking why I am not doing anything ...... saints preserve us from martyrs cos if we had the strength we would surely strangle them
Click to expand...
LOL.. I think saints in medieval times wore sack cloth and ashes. (Read burlap and mud for English ones).
 
UnderYourSpell said:
Will you come and visit me in prison murder is about to be done ........
Click to expand...
Dear Annie,

I know your patience is being tried by "The-One-In-Pain, Why-don't-you-sit-with-me?". Men have a rougher go, on average, recuperating from any surgery or illness. They don't have the brain chemistry that shuts their pain centres off as thoroughly as women do, they also don't have sedentary hobbies.

Go to the library, get a "How to Knit" video and then hand Ron a ball of wool and a few knitting needles. Tell him you won't be available for entertaining him until he's got 12 square inches of single stitching done.
 
Actually I think he learnt to knit as a boy lol ye gods if he swears at me once more I swear he will be wearing a cast iron frying pan
 
UnderYourSpell said:
Actually I think he learnt to knit as a boy lol ye gods if he swears at me once more I swear he will be wearing a cast iron frying pan
Click to expand...

Do you want now to send him back to that "other woman?" Aren't you glad that he came home with you?
 
He's never hit me and nor would he actually it's him taught me to stand up for myself (which he's probably regretting now lol) after 15 years married to an out and out mental bully who never would let me work (except slaving for him and his mother who lived with us) wouldn't let me have babies or learn to drive ... all the things that would take me out of his sphere of control. Ron took me away from all that and I appreciate he is in pain and he's bored but he's bloody stubborn and so am I. What you have to appreciate is he was always a ladies man he charms them young and old alike and they adore him for it but they don't see him trying bullying tactics on me something that's only raised it's head since he's had this Op and I am not sure how to deal with it. We are both in selfish mode at the moment ... him because he is incapacitated and me because I will not be a slave again. Think he needs a mommy figure to look after his little boy hurt but he musn't be allowed to wallow in it or he will never recover so I am the big bad wolf who makes him do things and I get the tongue lashing
 
Last edited:
UnderYourSpell said:
He's never hit me and nor would he actually it's him taught me to stand up for myself (which he's probably regretting now lol) after 15 years married to an out and out mental bully who never would let me work (except slaving for him and his mother who lived with us) wouldn't let me have babies or learn to drive ... all the things that would take me out of his sphere of control. Ron took me away from all that and I appreciate he is in pain and he's bored but he's bloody stubborn and so am I. What you have to appreciate is he was always a ladies man he charms them young and old alike and they adore him for it but they don't see him trying bullying tactics on me something that's only raised it's head since he's had this Op and I am not sure how to deal with it. We are both in selfish mode at the moment ... him because he is incapacitated and me because I will not be a slave again. Think he needs a mommy figure to look after his little boy hurt but he musn't be allowed to wallow in it or he will never recover so I am the big bad wolf who makes him do things and I get the tongue lashing
Click to expand...
My dad broke his back a couple of months ago and my mom took care of him totally but she would call and tell me how he was driving her crazy. He was frustrated and wanted to do the things that he'd always done. Now he can and he's back to normal and my mom is happy again. Things will improve for you and Ron once he's better. Just write poetry, post, whatever you need to do just to vent. It helps.
 
I aam a litttle bt tiddly on wine n mead kindly dis regard anything I say one the next few hours have had to retype this several timers as my fingers dont belog to me anymore and some sod has movd me keys
 
Angeline said:
Wellll...in between Andy Griffith episodes there has been some porn. Don't tell anyone.
Click to expand...


I just have to know! Did he whistle while he worked?? lol

Hi Babe!

I can't click on the I B U letters at the top.
I can't put a flower in here.
I can't find my submission page.
I can't download a flash player.
I can't put a link in.
I'm sure there's more- I haven't found anything.

*sigh
 
BooMerengue said:
I just have to know! Did he whistle while he worked?? lol

Hi Babe!

I can't click on the I B U letters at the top.
I can't put a flower in here.
I can't find my submission page.
I can't download a flash player.
I can't put a link in.
I'm sure there's more- I haven't found anything.

*sigh
Click to expand...

Boo...I wish you could watch this toots...Take off with us...from All That Jazz....

:kiss:
 
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