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Bad poetry corner

No chatting, just bad poetry

Toytown Germany > Discussion forum > Themes > Special
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Dostoyevsky
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
2000 miles away
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
Has pictures of her on his computer
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
But doesn't say anything
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
But she loves someone else
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
But she doesn't know of her luck
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
He loves her
And found out her address
South African
A bird is sitting where the dog just sat,
i think it's a tit or a chat
or something like that.

If i was mad, with a hat
and had hold of a bat,
one swing and splat!

But i'm a nice cat
not a nasty brat,
drat!
MajorBummer
On Making Vietnamese Springroles

"Glücksrolle? They are easy to make
You can fill them with anything and they don't need to bake
Just take some rice paper, vegis, herbs and some shrimps"
"It's really dead easy", whispered the imp
So, empty bellied but with hope and delight,
I started my plight very late at night

"Just take the rice paper and soak them in water"
Step one is already turning into torture
Sticking to anything but to the stuffing
Soon I was yelling and cursing and puffing
"Place ingredients well inside on paper"
With I sigh I thought, better now than later

At 11 at night the belly still empty
The cursed filling available aplenty
The sides they did stick to the plate and the fingers
The taste of the soggy filling days after still lingers
Roled they finally looked like stuffed bags
At this fine art ruefully lagged

The peanut sauce next, just open the jar
Tried to pour out the contents which turned out rock hard
Determined to eat, turned up the heat
To melt the shit and finally eat
Finally ready I took a big bite
of soggy tasteless dunken blight

"Never again!" I did yell late at night
Want to eat and not to fight
Days later fridge still full with filling
Trying to find an idiot who's willing
To eat the remainder of sticky muck
Making these springroles really did suck.
RickMunich
I am tired.
The bed calls.
Good night.
Von
Her face
Was a torrent of mirrors
Reflecting her pain
Reflecting my pain.
Beardie
There was a young man from Lyme
Who couldnt get Limericks to sound right.
When asked why not
It was said that he thought
They were just too long and didnt really work well for him.
ian
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm a schizofrenic
And so am I
sweetsilence
I would scream
If I had a voice to speak

I would run
If I had legs to walk

I would die
if I had a life to give
perdido
Here is one I wrote for a TT contest( maybe the survivor thread) about TT

A room full of butterflies
for the wallflowers to watch
everything changing
and nothing changing at all
Punchbear
An Ode To An Ode To Emo.

The clock eats my time
Yet gives it to me too
The oven burns my food
But keeps my kitchen warm

Give me that knife
I want to butter you
Like toast on Sunday
And a cup of tea

My blood itches
With desire for you
My heart shivers
At the thought of you

I could learn
To live with
Needing
Someone like you
I could sit on trains
With your face
Masking the landscape
I could try
And be normal in public
With the scent of your hair
Chasing your warmth
Through the velvet halls of my heart

I could let
Myself be miserable
In your absence
The stirrups of my soul
Stiffened with the shock
Of not having you near

I could meet you
And feel the cold stone
Of rejection
Make its home
South of my lungs
And freeze feelings
Into a fetid
Cancer of ires

I could be renewed
For nobody is beauty-proof.

Your hands
Locked on your knees
Your glance
Sliding under the smoke
And noise
Rubbed my cheek
Charged me
Eyes leading me astray
Bold and blue
Baleful yet beggar bright
Eyes
That I can still feel on my face
Stealing from me still
Ghostly on my left

You ask me to kiss you
And the world stands still

You're so soul-bendingly beautiful
Serene and ethereal
I never noticed you glide before
Or
How sumptuous it could be
To watch your legs swing over one another
And your eyes
Lock onto mine

Twice
You ask me to kiss you

I had to fall apart to put myself together again.

Your hand in mine
Your skin soft and silent.

Your gaze
Like a sun
Melting frozen tears.

Dedicated in love to Dr. Alban.

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