Clothier's Poetry Thread

post your verse,
it need not rhyme,
it need not be responsive to
anyone's time.
Just don't suck.

A while back, if I remember right, my life was one long party where all hearts were open wide, where all wines kept flowing.

One night, I sat Beauty down on my lap.—And I found her galling.—And I roughed her up.

I armed myself against justice.

I ran away. O witches, O misery, O hatred, my treasure's been turned over to you!

I managed to make every trace of human hope vanish from my mind. I pounced on every joy like a ferocious animal eager to strangle it.

I called for executioners so that, while dying, I could bite the butts of their rifles. I called for plagues to choke me with sand, with blood. Bad luck was my god. I stretched out in the muck. I dried myself in the air of crime. And I played tricks on insanity.

And Spring brought me the frightening laugh of the idiot.

So, just recently, when I found myself on the brink of the final squawk! it dawned on me to look again for the key to that ancient party where I might find my appetite once more.

Charity is that key.—This inspiration proves I was dreaming!

"You'll always be a hyena etc. . . ," yells the devil, who'd crowned me with such pretty poppies. "Deserve death with all your appetites, your selfishness, and all the capital sins!"

Ah! I've been through too much:-But, sweet Satan, I beg of you, a less blazing eye! and while waiting for the new little cowardly gestures yet to come, since you like an absence of descriptive or didactic skills in a writer, let me rip out these few ghastly pages from my notebook of the damned.

clothier wrote:

Just don't suck

What is an expression never uttered by Carrot Cake Man, Alex?

carrot cake.
forever tainted.
eaten no more.

laststandchili wrote:

A while back, if I remember right, my life was one long party where all hearts were open wide, where all wines kept flowing.

One night, I sat Beauty down on my lap.—And I found her galling.—And I roughed her up.

I armed myself against justice.

I ran away. O witches, O misery, O hatred, my treasure's been turned over to you!

I managed to make every trace of human hope vanish from my mind. I pounced on every joy like a ferocious animal eager to strangle it.

I called for executioners so that, while dying, I could bite the butts of their rifles. I called for plagues to choke me with sand, with blood. Bad luck was my god. I stretched out in the muck. I dried myself in the air of crime. And I played tricks on insanity.

And Spring brought me the frightening laugh of the idiot.

So, just recently, when I found myself on the brink of the final squawk! it dawned on me to look again for the key to that ancient party where I might find my appetite once more.

Charity is that key.—This inspiration proves I was dreaming!

"You'll always be a hyena etc. . . ," yells the devil, who'd crowned me with such pretty poppies. "Deserve death with all your appetites, your selfishness, and all the capital sins!"

Ah! I've been through too much:-But, sweet Satan, I beg of you, a less blazing eye! and while waiting for the new little cowardly gestures yet to come, since you like an absence of descriptive or didactic skills in a writer, let me rip out these few ghastly pages from my notebook of the damned.

I didn't know you were a fan of the works of Fieldthistle!

PTO meetings.
Mothers never stop talking about themselves
and their issues.
Isn't this about the kids?

PTO meetings.
Often the only Dad.
Field Trips. Always the only dad.
Volunteer at school.
The only dad.
Soccer practice? Unless it's after 6, the only dad.
Football practice? All the dads, and only one mom.
Good thing I look good in a skirt.

cross dressing dad.

not even on a dare.

just a joke.

embarass my kid?

Only on my terms.

[quote="Agent 13"]

laststandchili wrote:

I didn't know you were a fan of the works of Fieldthistle!

I couldn't find a website with the early sonnets of Nipsey Russel.

Hickory Dickory Dock.
Some bitch was sucking my cock...

All right stop collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop yo I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle
Dance go rush to the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom





Take care.

i95 wrote:

All right stop collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop yo I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle
Dance go rush to the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom





Take care.

Ice-Ice Baby!

They don't write 'em like that any more.

how can i hope to compete with that?

this thread has run it's course.

This is the most un-rhyming thread I've ever been on.

i95 wrote:

All right stop collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop yo I don't know
Turn off the lights and I'll glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle
Dance go rush to the speaker that booms
I'm killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom





Take care.

Informer, you no say daddy me snow me Ill go blame,
A licky boom boom down.
Detective mon said daddy me snow me stab someone down the lane,
A licky boom boom down.
Informer, you no say daddy me snow me Ill go blame,
A licky boom boom down.
Detective mon said daddy me snow me stab someone down the lane,
A licky boom boom down.

right.

Where's the Poet? show him! show him,
Muses nine! that I may know him.
'Tis the man who with a man
Is an equal, be he King,
Or poorest of the beggar-clan
Or any other wonderous thing

an ode to BBQBoy

a stop the freaking bus welcome to BBQBoy;
you seem like a real nice fella,
I wish you'd tell us more about you;
we know you're from the west;
we know you like the Q,
but other then that, i don't remember you.

don't take that as an insult,
that i don't remember who you are,
I'm Clothier, damn it, and I'm totally self-centered.
(see? I turned a welcome poem to you into a poem about me)
(oh, and all those names that you don't know who they are? They are all me)


anyways, welcome, welcome, welcome to WOT.