Post-a-poem

[Glennn]

Actually, whatever your name is, I was trying to spare your feelings. You interepretted my poem literally, when in fact, it is a metaphorical poem about drinking. No doubt, you are the only one in the forum who made that mistake. You thought the dog was a dog. Stupid!

And now I'll air my thoughts on your performance. You are a one-dimensional, shallow-minded, gross little cockroach who is so ignorant that I have to explain to you that a simple little poem is metaphorical.

You were informed by several of us in the insult-room that you are one sick little puppy. We weren't kidding! See, I'm wondering what your mommy--nay, daddy--did to you in the night that caused you to become the tasteless little creature that you have become. You're having difficulty ridding your mind of those unwanted recollections of daddy's unwanted love. Posting those disgusting images is your way of forcing everyone to experience that same difficulty with an unwanted recollection. That way, you don't have to feel alone, right? Right.

My guess is that you look at disgusting material every day in an effort to desensitize yourself, so that the images of what daddy did between the time he entered your room and the moment he left don't seem as bad by contrast. Don't you ever wonder why you shy away from girls? And don't say you have a girlfriend; most girls possess enough intuition to discern mental illness when they encounter it. When you express yourself, that's nature's way of saying, "Stay away."

Of course you're going to say something really gross or try to top your last sick images, which will just help prove my point; so please have at it. And you're now on my ignore list. So sweet dreams my boy, and don't let the bed bugs bite. Know what I mean? Yeah, you know what I mean.


Glen.

[ekujitfy8vser]

Actually, whatever your name is, I was trying to spare your feelings. You interepretted my poem literally, when in fact, it is a metaphorical poem about drinking. No doubt, you are the only one in the forum who made that mistake. You thought the dog was a dog. Stupid!

"Not satisfied with run and fetch." Ha! I would have never assumed a part of you in your mind was in touch with a drunk, sexist wifebeater.

Still doesn't change the fact that a corpse is a possession and one that cannot be capable of sight.

And now I'll air my thoughts on your performance. You are a one-dimensional, shallow-minded, gross little cockroach who is so ignorant that I have to explain to you that a simple little poem is metaphorical.

"Not satisfied with run and fetch." HAHAHAHAHAHA!! EPIC! I NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED! I MEAN, HOT DOG FUCKING DAMN! E-P-I-C!



I thought the dog was a dog. HA! HAAAAAAAAA! EPIC. Cheers to the booze, mate.

You were informed by several of us in the insult-room that you are one sick little puppy. We weren't kidding! See, I'm wondering what your mommy--nay, daddy--did to you in the night that caused you to become the tasteless little creature that you have become. You're having difficulty ridding your mind of those unwanted recollections of daddy's unwanted love. Posting those disgusting images is your way of forcing everyone to experience that same difficulty with an unwanted recollection. That way, you don't have to feel alone, right? Right.

Since when was bucketloads of dead puppies a disgusting image?

My guess is that you look at disgusting material every day in an effort to desensitize yourself, so that the images of what daddy did between the time he entered your room and the moment he left don't seem as bad by contrast. Don't you ever wonder why you shy away from girls? And don't say you have a girlfriend; most girls possess enough intuition to discern mental illness when they encounter it. When you express yourself, that's nature's way of saying, "Stay away."

Hohoho, I'mma shy away from the girls because I am so kungfugly. But what if I were gay? And why just girls? Why doesn't everyone see me with some giant figurative "stay away" message above my head? Why just girls? Someone views those of the opposet sex more as objects than as a persons.

Of course you're going to say something really gross or try to top your last sick images, which will just help prove my point; so please have at it.

A few years ago I met a man that was a member of the Rotary club and who had ridiculously good powers of perception. Was quite impressive. You, however, are not that impressive.

And you're now on my ignore list.

About Glennn

Biography
Backstreet debater.

Location
A backstreet.

Interests
Backstreet debating.

Occupation
Proof-reader and winning debates.

Ignore list is how you win debates against your betters? How original.

[Ben Burkhill]

How Ol' Petal Lifter got his name.

Ol' Petal Lifter
just a wind drifter
took some time one day
just to find What May

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
was a soul sifter
an he found What May
sit in a bright sun ray

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
had nought to gift her
so he spent the day
gathering flower spray

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
too much the drifter
journeyed back to say
"this is for you What May"

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
found he'd missed her
it was beyond the day
petals closed at bay

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
not a patient drifter
just wanted his say
couldn't wait for day

so Ol' Petal Lifter
the clever soul sifter
peeled back What May
and presented his spray

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
a lonely wind drifter
he caught What May
with a stalk of hay

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
so miffed he biffed her
he gathered the hay
an sent it on its way

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
with remorse he kissed her
went to go his way
with his wilted spray

an' Ol' Petal Lifter
with spray to gift her
was not feeling OK
at losing What May

poor Ol' Petal Lifter
the sad wind drifter
heard his name and; "Hey!"
turned to see What May

smiling at Petal Lifter
despite that he biffed her
aglow like a sun ray
a beckoning What May

happy Ol' Petal Lifter
went back an' gripped her
they spent the next day
nestled in a sun ray.

[Ben Burkhill,]

I hope this reveals to all of you nose pickers that I am a sensitive person. My glenn (aka glennda - pronounced glenn -duh) knows this!! Many of my bath house buddies know this! and one more verse.

Oh Petal lifter
I'd like to be my own sister
But I wasn't born that way
So I'll just cut this member away



__________________
Self control is the chief element in self respect and self respect is the chief element in fellatio.

Thucydides

[Big Cat]

Originally Posted by My poem exactly as it's saved in its Word document

Tears, the diarrhea of the eyes

The greatest understatement a man may make
is in saying you have the most beautiful eyes.
Your eyes, frightening, not just my breath they take
...they haunt my mind, a fascination I despise.
It's ridiculous how they overwhelm all thought,
by their mere inaction, their stillness, their stare...
Ridiculous is their power over any one thought;
The glare of that stare though your hair I can't bear!
I can't think! My mind cannot handle it! It's simply too much, too much!
They fill my mind! There's nothing else! It must stop! I need deliverance!




…?





–Ah, and they're gone! Oh wondrous and sweet mental repose!
Those glorious orbs, nor strange wings to your nose,
haunt my mind no longer, and my soul may now close,
finally in peace, and away from those foes.

But now...I am uncertain. Some thing is missing.
And as I think now and as I continue reminiscing,
I realise my gravest error was in their dismissing.

And now my free mind ever searches for your eyes,
As the memories slowly dissipate and truly terrible thoughts arise;
And my mind conjures false memories, sick, horrible lies,
That can never coincide with the truth that were your eyes.

Oh, how I regret wanting a clear mind.
How I wish I didn't find the peace I pined.
--Ah! How I lament for those eyes which I thoughtlessly maligned.

The irony.

How were they again? I forget.
Oh, how I pay the debt
To my past bliss with the fading even yet.

How much better my mind was being full of your eyes
than my mind being emptied, ever searching for your eyes.

The insanity.

--William Butler Yeats

(I wrote this poem, basically, in around an hour and a half. However, I mean, come on, some parts of it were a bit too corny and cliché, and so I spend much more time after completing the poem looking for better words to replace the slacking ones)

So, it's kind of interesting. I wrote this poem in May or something, and wrote it kind of half-assedly after watching the season finale of America's Next Top Model and seeing the one girl with the retardedly huge eyeballs cry. I didn't really write it with any emotion or anything, I just used rather common emotional connections and applied them with great effect. What is interesting is that, several months later, there's this one girl that I am extremely interested in at the moment. I'm skimming though all the shit on my computer, and from between the porn clips and the notepad writings I find this poem, and I read it, and my reaction was an epic, "Holy fucking shit dude, what the fuck have I done?" It was like a fucking horoscope of doom. Like a horoscope in that it was a vague and generic poem, and like a horoscope, it was right. I'm reading the fucking thing and I'm thinking, "Dude, you're a fucking genius."

What is unfortunate is that she will eventually be leaving to go back to her country while I will stay here and continue doing my shit. Everything this poem says is God damn fucking true (to me, but then again it *is* my poem) and it sucks being right all the time. I mean, fuck. I'm trying to find faults in the substance of the poem (as opposed to the syntax or meter or whatever) and I can't find any. This is ridiculous. It's so ridiculous to me that I had to post my "discovery" on this washed out has-been forum. Jesus fucking Christ.

Wait, she's muslim. WTF.

[QuinticNon]

There's pubic hairs on my bathroom floor.
I can't seem to get it clean.
Night after night must I fight this war?
Destroy bacteria unseen.

Spic n' Span in a can for a dollar less.
A coupon for fighting grime!
It dissolved, then evolved into such a mess.
Makes living to seem like a crime.

[Ben Burkhill]

LOL - nice one. Dirty boy.

[burgersoft777]

Originally Posted by Ben Burkhill

LOL - nice one. Dirty boy.

Hi Ben its been a difficult day, theres only so many buts you can take. What I need now are a few good freinds to keep me going whilst we make certain this thing is seen through.

[Ben Burkhill]

Originally Posted by burgersoft777

Hi Ben its been a difficult day, theres only so many buts you can take. What I need now are a few good freinds to keep me going whilst we make certain this thing is seen through.

Well you know I'll be there for you Burger, private message me whenever you have the need.

[Glennn]

I'm going to assume that you use Viagra. What you are failing to realize is that you are a living advertisement for the side effects of this drug. So, everyone now knows that side effects include: loss of grammer skills; inability to be coherent; inability to even fake coherency; hell, inability to even realize an inability to be coherent; loss of caring about--you guessed it--being incoherent.

Might I recommend some chinese herbs, or something else that won't leave you speechless?

[Big Cat]

Ha! Glennn responded to an ad bot. That's classic.

[Storyteller]

Now its my turn to write a poem.

There once lived a MAN,
he lived in a caraVAN,
And the first letter of his name was that of the word "BAN''

[Storyteller]

His name, as you may have guessed,
was one worse than all the rest,
Because it was "burkhill'
And it's owner could never sit stil

Especally when he spied
on the road a little child
crying oh, im lost, mummy!
to which ben wuold reply, hey, im here, honey.

and then he'd promise the kid some money
if he'd let ben get all funny
with him.

[Storyteller]

aw, shut the fuck uop you sad twat... you dont even know when your own moms gonna die and leave you clold alone and naked in the wide world do you now?
so just stfu and leave us all alonne, youll be doin us s big favour by doing so.

[Storyteller]

oh ad btw that peom was to ben burkhill and as usual the bugger hast even bothered to reply tome.. the impolite bastard.