| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 8:44:34 AM | Morning Goth. You got rythm...I likes it. Keep 'em coming...I could use some talent and class here to offset my bludgeoning poetic skills. I feel a little shame posting this little thing here right after you, though. Sunday morning breakfast inspired me:
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Breakfast, Sunday morning
I ache for Sundays
Aching for the bacon
To couple with eggs
Followed by that
Holy Trinity of breakfast:
The Milk, the Juice
And the Holy Toast
The butter seeks it's
Own level on hot
Toasted brown bread
Obeying laws of physics
I don't care to know
The eggs as tender as
Pre-menstrual breasts
Yolk barely contained
Quivering for me
Send my tongue to heaven
You grease-fired breakfast
===============
What can I say? When two sunny-side eggs lie suggesitvely on the plate like that, it sends me into a fine mood everytime. Yum. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 8:49:44 AM | mornin goat!.......this is great!......."eggs as tender as pre-menstrual breasts" I love it!....
you got it all going on with the poetry, so don't ever think that your not good enough, because we all know differently!......
maybe I'll post something later.......hmmmmm.....lol | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 10:48:35 AM | I sit here starring at this screen
that has brung us together,
the black hole of our lives
we won't live in forever.
time can only tell if
the passion will dwell,
a sin to want only him
don't care, so what if I fell.
I want to offer my crusifix
to this man that is dark and cold,
for maybe I can help
cause his soul I would have never sold.
ok goat your turn!......LOL.....not sure where all this is comin from, but as long as it's there....I'm gonna keep bringin it back here!.....thank's for lettin me share this space with you!.....
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 6:58:26 PM | | It's my turn and I'm suddenly speechless. I have no poetry to give tonight, just praise and thanks to you, Goth. You're allowed in here any old time you want. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 7:16:35 PM | shoeless goat in saskatoon
barefoot in the field
cut his foot on a balloon
and his skin is peeled
open and bleeding
his wound is a warning
wear shoes while feeding
a goat in the morning! | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/18/2004 7:30:26 PM | The Goat's had a day and a half today. This heat wipes me out and leaves me feeling flat. I think I'll wander away to the deck, read a book and have a good nap out there.
Sorry, folks. Like the poem, Bird. It takes a soft foot to get it cut on a balloon. Maybe if I wore rubber boots...?
Well, I'll come back later tonight (or more likely tomorrow)....see yer. Keep the thread warm for me if you want. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/19/2004 2:56:06 PM | fear of knowing how my life is to be
because a bigger force won't set me free.
lost is this soul that l'm haunted by
until the day I say goodbye.... | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/19/2004 5:43:16 PM | Howdy all. Typical Monday at work. Just for fun, Mother Nature decided to throw some fierce winds at me biking to and from work. I'm a very pooped and stinky guy today. No really, there be funk in the air here.
Goth....you continue to amaze me. So much eloquent rawness in such small stanzas...keep 'em coming. If you don't mind the smell and the mess here, you're welcome to stay.
And here's my contribution for the day. Made up on the spot, fresher than fresh. Fresher than me, at least. I'm hitting the shower.
=======================
A Fresh Load of Verbiage
People are like words
Some belong with each other
And many don't
They need to agree
In their tenses
Then, sentences can be made
Paragraphs constructed
Novels built upon a
Freshly poured foundation
Of grammatical proportions
Powered by verbs
There will always be
Participles that dangle
Sentences that run on
And stampede into the sea
With breathless unfinished thoughts
There will always be words
That defy verbiage
That defy the red pen
And some are coined
On the spot and carry
Their own weight
====================
Ta DAAAAA!!! I never know how these things turn out until they end. I never know when to end them until they turn out. Hmmm.....shower time. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/19/2004 5:52:51 PM | as always goat!.....very impressed!....loved it!......you have a great way with words!....
I don't mind the smell, so I'll kick back here once in a while and hide out from the rest when the urge hits me again to post more sad poetry.......thanks....... | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/19/2004 5:56:11 PM | And some of my words are made up. I don't think "axiominal" is a real word....couldn't find it in my dictionary. I don't know if I have a way with words apart from shaking them until they make a rythm.
But, I have fun...that's what counts.
I love your sadness, your gladness and your madness. Post all your moments and minutes here when the urge strikes. It's a big, stinky barn with lots of seating room. | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/19/2004 6:06:13 PM | | COOL!.....I will be back soon again then!....and by the way....you say that your words are made up, but it really doesn't matter cause it all sounds, and looks good!...... | |
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/20/2004 2:45:53 PM | Do I hold all the charm
that your looking for,
or am I the nothing
you won't see anymore
these eyes have witnessed
terrible deceit,
I can't get out of my
chamber of concrete
the breathless that I feel
is my suffication within,
Resurrect the magical
thought of lusting me on a whim
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| Re: GoatSmell's Own Poetry Thread
Posted: 7/20/2004 5:51:50 PM | Hi guys. Me again. Goth....lovely and tragic...I am blown away by the spareness, the conservativeness you have with words. Very zen.
Ashamedly, here's my mild poetic dumping....
======================
Let's Get Ready to Stumble!
Passion stumbles in the night
Banging his knee on the coffee table
Searching for a light switch
To find his way through a maze
Of pizza boxes, beer cans
Used condoms, old clothes
That reek of cigarette smoke
And last night's perfumed whirlwind
Passion had energy, passion had grace
But he ran white-hot in the heat
Of a hotter moment that stretched
Into an evening of furniture-wrecking sex
That heat left according to
Thermodynamic law
Leaving a sore lump of an emotion
Rubbing his knee among the
Garbage and the flowers
=====================
Until tomorrow. See you guys later, eh.... | |
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