User Poetry - Page 45

WT Sharpe · 05-24-2010, 09:54 PM

May 25th is Towel Day.

In honor of the late, great Douglas Adams (1952-2001), I'd like to submit the following poem, penned with imput submitted to the Vogon Poetry Generator.

For my friend Kenny

See, see the stoic sky
Marvel at its big madras depths.
Tell me, Kenny do you
Wonder why the ardvaark ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel blah?
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your shuklesnarf facial growth
That looks like
A mold.
What's more, it knows
Your saltpeter potting shed
Smells of recluse.
Everything under the big stoic sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm rotten eggs.

kennyc · 05-24-2010, 10:18 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by WT Sharpe

May 25th is Towel Day.

In honor of the late, great Douglas Adams (1952-2001), I'd like to submit the following poem, penned with imput submitted to the Vogon Poetry Generator.

For my friend Kenny

See, see the stoic sky
Marvel at its big madras depths.
Tell me, Kenny do you
Wonder why the ardvaark ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel blah?
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your shuklesnarf facial growth
That looks like
A mold.
What's more, it knows
Your saltpeter potting shed
Smells of recluse.
Everything under the big stoic sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm rotten eggs.

Hee-Hee. I love it Tom....but isn't it a "Recluse" poem as well?

WT Sharpe · 05-24-2010, 10:59 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by kennyc

Hee-Hee. I love it Tom...

You still going to be pushed out the airlock!

Quote:

Originally Posted by kennyc

...but isn't it a "Recluse" poem as well?

montsnmags · 05-25-2010, 03:36 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by WT Sharpe

Do you drink when you write? I've heard it's a prerequisite for poets.

With Bombay Sapphire blue eyes...

It's the only way to fly.

WT Sharpe · 05-25-2010, 08:47 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by montsnmags

With Bombay Sapphire blue eyes...

It's the only way to fly.

"The spirit is delicately infused in a Carterhead still with the aromatic flavours of 10 botanicals ..."

Sounds like you're drinking perfume, mate!

montsnmags · 05-25-2010, 09:47 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by WT Sharpe

"The spirit is delicately infused in a Carterhead still with the aromatic flavours of 10 botanicals ..."
Sounds like you're drinking perfume, mate!

Liquor without its perfume is like a freeverse sonnet: no rhyme nor reason. If you're going to live in your cups it doesn't hurt to make the place smell nice (if only to disguise your own odiferous self).

GeoffC · 05-25-2010, 10:14 AM

are you my friend
this noise within my head
or are you the torture
within my soul
the bat that screams
at daemons inside their cage
locked within my skull
as trapped as spirits
within their hell

are you my friend
this noise that batters me
my senses shredded
by soundly beaten drum
shrill pipe
klaxon
and screeching string

are you my friend
this noise within my head
or are you the torture
within my soul

© May 2010

kennyc · 05-25-2010, 10:40 AM

Nice battling demons poem Geoff!

WT Sharpe · 05-25-2010, 11:28 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by GeoffC

are you my friend
this noise within my head
or are you the torture
within my soul
the bat that screams
at daemons inside their cage
locked within my skull
as trapped as spirits
within their hell

are you my friend
this noise that batters me
my senses shredded
by soundly beaten drum
shrill pipe
klaxon
and screeching string

are you my friend
this noise within my head
or are you the torture
within my soul

© May 2010

Excellent dark chocolate there!

Quote:

Originally Posted by montsnmags

Liquor without its perfume is like a freeverse sonnet: no rhyme nor reason. If you're going to live in your cups it doesn't hurt to make the place smell nice (if only to disguise your own odiferous self).

Joebill · 05-29-2010, 12:57 PM

I wrote this some years ago for Memorial Day/Remeberance Day

paper towels, napkins, handkerchiefs.

raining.

crying.

acoustic [nylon strings] guitar, harmonica solo where appropriate.

Some old guy sitting on a park bench,
next to a monument,
both worn out by time.

You can see,
the worn places on the stone monument,
where hands, for many a year,
have touched it,
in remembrance,
of times gone by.

The sharp edges,
at each corner,
now worn smooth.

The monument doesn't have much on it.

just
"We Remember"

The old man got here,
on a long bus ride,
through small towns,
some desolation,
deserted small town,
some woodlands,
some farm lands,
and a few cities.

The rain drops falling,
and flowing,
across the old man,
and the monument.

Nobody paying attention,
to either one,
anyway,
not today.

The park is mostly silent,
cars whisper by,
on the rainy streets,
its a couple of days early,
before the parades,
all is quiet,
nothing much,
going on today.

[ exit]

kennyc · 05-29-2010, 01:04 PM

I like that a lot Joebill!

Joebill · 05-29-2010, 06:22 PM

Thank you.

WT Sharpe · 05-29-2010, 06:36 PM

That's excellent, Joebill! And right on time!

GeoffC · 05-30-2010, 04:01 AM

Good one Joebill ...

GeoffC · 05-30-2010, 04:03 AM

The spring sun shone into the room,
A ray of golden yellow;
It caught every scrap of dust,
Even things in shadow:
It showed the dust of a hundred years,
In a house of twice that age:
The people of this house are dead, since 1884.

**

A cloud came over the sun,
The house went dull
A wind spring up;
The house was blown about:
The wind blew where,
The sun had shone:
And blew all the dust away.

**

The sun came out again,
Its yellow ray
Shone into the dining room:
It showed in there,
A table laid,
Of food and wine of old:
People were walking,
Too and fro':
As the sun,
Shone into the house,
The people melted away:
And kids came in,
they laid the table,
With picnic things.

**

Oh, what would they say,
If they had seen those ghosts;
That haunted the house,
On a windy day?.....

© G. 1969

05-24-2010, 09:54 PM	#661
WT Sharpe Bah, humbug! Posts: 39,072 Karma: 157049943 Join Date: Jun 2009 Location: Chesapeake, VA, USA Device: Kindle Oasis, iPad Pro, & a Samsung Galaxy S9.	May 25th is Towel Day. In honor of the late, great Douglas Adams (1952-2001), I'd like to submit the following poem, penned with imput submitted to the Vogon Poetry Generator. For my friend Kenny See, see the stoic sky Marvel at its big madras depths. Tell me, Kenny do you Wonder why the ardvaark ignores you? Why its foobly stare makes you feel blah? I can tell you, it is Worried by your shuklesnarf facial growth That looks like A mold. What's more, it knows Your saltpeter potting shed Smells of recluse. Everything under the big stoic sky Asks why, why do you even bother? You only charm rotten eggs. Last edited by WT Sharpe; 05-24-2010 at 10:03 PM.

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05-25-2010, 10:14 AM	#667
GeoffC Chocolate Grasshopper ... Posts: 27,599 Karma: 20821184 Join Date: Mar 2008 Location: Scotland Device: Muse HD , Cybook Gen3 , Pocketbook 302 (Black) , Nexus 10: wife has PW	are you my friend this noise within my head or are you the torture within my soul the bat that screams at daemons inside their cage locked within my skull as trapped as spirits within their hell are you my friend this noise that batters me my senses shredded by soundly beaten drum shrill pipe klaxon and screeching string are you my friend this noise within my head or are you the torture within my soul © May 2010

05-25-2010, 10:40 AM	#668
kennyc The Dank Side of the Moon Posts: 35,917 Karma: 119747553 Join Date: Sep 2009 Location: Denver, CO Device: Kindle2; Kindle Fire	Nice battling demons poem Geoff!

05-29-2010, 12:57 PM	#670
Joebill Fanatic Posts: 517 Karma: 459442 Join Date: Jan 2010 Location: Alpha Centauri's Library of Alexandria Device: Pandigital Novel	I wrote this some years ago for Memorial Day/Remeberance Day paper towels, napkins, handkerchiefs. raining. crying. acoustic [nylon strings] guitar, harmonica solo where appropriate. Some old guy sitting on a park bench, next to a monument, both worn out by time. You can see, the worn places on the stone monument, where hands, for many a year, have touched it, in remembrance, of times gone by. The sharp edges, at each corner, now worn smooth. The monument doesn't have much on it. just "We Remember" The old man got here, on a long bus ride, through small towns, some desolation, deserted small town, some woodlands, some farm lands, and a few cities. The rain drops falling, and flowing, across the old man, and the monument. Nobody paying attention, to either one, anyway, not today. The park is mostly silent, cars whisper by, on the rainy streets, its a couple of days early, before the parades, all is quiet, nothing much, going on today. [ exit]

05-29-2010, 01:04 PM	#671
kennyc The Dank Side of the Moon Posts: 35,917 Karma: 119747553 Join Date: Sep 2009 Location: Denver, CO Device: Kindle2; Kindle Fire	I like that a lot Joebill!

05-29-2010, 06:22 PM	#672
Joebill Fanatic Posts: 517 Karma: 459442 Join Date: Jan 2010 Location: Alpha Centauri's Library of Alexandria Device: Pandigital Novel	Thank you.

05-29-2010, 06:36 PM	#673
WT Sharpe Bah, humbug! Posts: 39,072 Karma: 157049943 Join Date: Jun 2009 Location: Chesapeake, VA, USA Device: Kindle Oasis, iPad Pro, & a Samsung Galaxy S9.	That's excellent, Joebill! And right on time!

05-30-2010, 04:01 AM	#674
GeoffC Chocolate Grasshopper ... Posts: 27,599 Karma: 20821184 Join Date: Mar 2008 Location: Scotland Device: Muse HD , Cybook Gen3 , Pocketbook 302 (Black) , Nexus 10: wife has PW	Good one Joebill ...

05-30-2010, 04:03 AM	#675
GeoffC Chocolate Grasshopper ... Posts: 27,599 Karma: 20821184 Join Date: Mar 2008 Location: Scotland Device: Muse HD , Cybook Gen3 , Pocketbook 302 (Black) , Nexus 10: wife has PW	The spring sun shone into the room, A ray of golden yellow; It caught every scrap of dust, Even things in shadow: It showed the dust of a hundred years, In a house of twice that age: The people of this house are dead, since 1884. A cloud came over the sun, The house went dull A wind spring up; The house was blown about: The wind blew where, The sun had shone: And blew all the dust away. The sun came out again, Its yellow ray Shone into the dining room: It showed in there, A table laid, Of food and wine of old: People were walking, Too and fro': As the sun, Shone into the house, The people melted away: And kids came in, they laid the table, With picnic things. ** Oh, what would they say, If they had seen those ghosts; That haunted the house, On a windy day?..... © G. 1969

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