Thread: Your Poetry
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Old Dec 29th, 2011, 08:15 AM       
what the hell can i say after being in hell for a couple days the pain the swell it all goes away but the shivering fear the terror the clacking it never rebates it never is lacking the snaps of the bones and the bones in the grinder the fear is in your mind girl the pain of the chaps the rain and the mash oh you're so lucky the rain and the stache. I don't know how it gets so tart out here, but man, I say them boys are good fer dress. Goodspeed, men, and if the angle pleases Her Majesty, then bombs away! Confetti! Burlesque! Spaghetti possessed is Bombay confessed! Horatio Dearest! You mustn't confess! Not under duress, you musn't confess! Easy come and easy go, easy won and sleazy low. Vic'try naught for vic'try night, what is for? For we fight! For our delight! Four hour delight! Four hour night. Four hours of fright! Fizzled fight. Fricking right! Fell in the night. Forest fright! Galloping, slaloming through ages, through wages, from heaven since I'd never left her! Galloping swallows can humble the ages, the sages, the meteor through wibblingly wages the rages of a sinner, the cages of a winner, the flavor of a liver, against the savings of a sinner. A shitter! A quiver. Geschmiver! A lip to a loo, a lip is lost. O'er the brave men for whom we pray, a pox, a slight, a curse, a slay! To the eagles and yankees for weather our wear, a fox in our feather and feather a chair! I bid you adieu, my comrade-in-arms, for feathery frizzles the foxberry farms! How frightful the fire that frillies the flies! Snow bumble the gizzard that wombs to our ties! Stalagmites, I say! Stalactites! Bombay! Meringue, were I willing, that pillar of giving, I'd surely but must as I say, to the lay! But what? A hearing? So whether a gearing? To pleasure a prostitute, 'twere best I was destitute, but frilly the lay that siezes Bombay! Frilly, I say! Frallay! 'Twas best to be given a willingly women for wearing a worm on your shoulder is bolder 'tis colder, I say, to be iced in the Gibbons than wear a gravedigger's grieves on Halloween's eve. But merry the misers and tarry the triflings. To tally is terror, a train leaves but nightly to trial the tremors. Six pence is the end of it, you sullied the snatch, you tore off her panties, you blithered my splatch. But what is the mist of it? I sally to say that here in the gist of it, you pissed of it, you ran. But by heavens wouldn't the nightliest, spriteliest gal give heavens to honey and honey to Hal? How horrid the heavens, the horrible pairs the nightliest girls are the wurliest mares. Too wretched, the thieves of the bordering grieves, desires the fires of florid despair! Too righteous, the night was as watchingmen gaze the borders of grievances past purple knaves! Too rapidly, happenstance, scatterfire, afterlife. Afterlife whom? The what weathers where! The watchmen wait willingly, the watches despair. For what weathers worse for whetherfore wear, the willing Frovostmen, all frivelled in snares, or dare to the air without weary a care? You share in the throne and the throne of the snares, the war of the ages, the war of despair. You frillingly flit with those who glit and Coventries, oh the Coventries, all in vain to the slithering slit of a witless little shit in the slop of a pit on the way to a hermit who weathers the world in a void of his own doing. For where is your wit, and wither your wear. Dally your curses, and dilly your care! The knights have awarded their final commandments, and whetherfore worse for the wear! Romancements enhancers are sniveling snares for kisses the missed in terrible hair. With honor, and glory, and wither to care, may heavenforth holly, and weather to spare! For Britain is Holy, and hard are our armours, and better our folly than knives to our gardeners! With Williams the Second and words to our worms, bill barry the brivels to tumble our turns! For merry the sniper who wanders the wire but falters to fire on familiar eyes! Fumble the furnisher, flight the fire. And still the shivering shatters the hair that whispers my name as the gunfire flares!
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