Friday Poetry Corner

[OrangeHopper]

The lawd, he just ignored me,
when talent he gave to those about.
I was there awaiting annointment,
but no, why bother,
what a waste it would be!

[xoggoth]

Pretentious drivel WS. Means nowt. Not even to the author I suspect. Easy to string together phrases, I can do it for hours with little repetition, hesitation or deviation. So damn unfair, when de good lawd hand out talents, others get ability to forecast changes on the stock market or sway multitudes wid de oratory. You and I get ability to string together umpteen hours worth of crap.

[Bagpuss]

Five to one, baby
One in five
No one here gets out alive, now
You get yours, baby
I'll get mine
Gonna make it, baby
If we try

The old get old
And the young get stronger
May take a week
And it may take longer
They got the guns
But we got the numbers
Gonna win, yeah
We're takin' over
Come on!

Your ballroom days are over, baby
Night is drawing near
Shadows of the evening crawl across the years
Ya walk across the floor with a flower in your hand
Trying to tell me no one understands
Trade in your hours for a handful dimes
Gonna' make it, baby, in our prime

[darmstadt]

Addicted To Women (Of The Smoke Filled Room)

I'm a strip club junkie
Been to them all
The elegant and the funky
I'm addicted to women
They cause a chemical reaction
As I bubble with semen
It's more than knee action
The dark smoky rooms
Have a mystical affect
Surrealism looms
As I become erect
On the main stage is Venus
A beautiful gal
Who use to have a penis
When her name was Hal
On my lap is the vivacious Tina
Making cash as she goes through school
Throw money or she'll say, "See ya"
She's nobody's fool
On top of my table is Choe
Seductive and wild
She'll give a blow
Pretty good for a child
Gotta love the strip clubs
They 're dark and they're dingy
but they cost money, so stay away if you're stingy

[WageSlave]

Obsession

Forest, I fear you! In my ruined heart
your roaring wakens the same agony
as in cathedrals when the organ moans
and from the depths I hear that I am damned.

Ocean, I hate you! For I recognize
the sobs and insults of my own despair,
the bitter laughter of a beaten man
repeated in the sea's huge gaiety.

Night! You'd please me even more without these stars
which speak a language I know all too well-
I long for darkness, silence,
nothing there. . .

Yet even shadows have their shapes which live
where I imagine them to be,
the hordes of vanished souls
whose eyes acknowledge mine.