Jeremi B. Handrinos
on Lessons Learned by Birdman42s
15 Feb 2003, 2:52 PM
Yes, very true, but what of the YMCA evolving from a well respected boy scouts back yard tree house?
Upon reading your title i laughed.
Upon reading your poem... i laughed harder
my favorite line you ask, "They play the pilgrims' number," whatever in the fucke that means perhaps 666 the number of the yeast. try crotching some yogurt, but be sure to share it with your red oak god knows he's grateful to be in your way. Jesus my fucking eyes are twitching.
great single images, but not sure they tie together smoothly. Maybe that kind of fractured view is what you were after though.
some deleted user
on Highlights From a Conversation at the Laundromat by bunniesnangels
15 Feb 2003, 11:52 AM
Nice storytelling rhythm ending with a moral.
Started very strong and seemed to lose some of the consistent flavor as it went.
After reading your work more closely i'm convinced that you know squat, but hey thanks for your opinion. Here's a suggestion. Go breast feed an indigenous tribe of pygmies with ebola then move to another planet, because in the end this poem and your opinion will be the same colored ash as burnt bodies burnt money and a colonizing burnt attitude thatywe could of only learned by asexual aliens that have never hugged a fucking tree or gone for a swim...ever. thanks mom for a matriarchal chromosome i can never shake..fuck off eve, you got alot of balls to have helped forge the situation to now take this stance. REAP IT!
for instance; say in the lab one day you created horus8 gave him his own country, programmed the shit out of him as far as programming goes...then equipped him with all kinds of nasty weapons to do nasty things with. (the whole thing in iraq started years ago between the french and the english anyway over oil of course and who should get better deals on it) so don't blame a father son idiot team from texas and the canadians and australians for wanting to get their fix now. after all they are just picking up where the fucking english, french and dutch left off. now would you allow horus8 to keep his country and his weapons regardless of how in the fuck he came to be? What are you stupid? He will bite the hand that feeds him he already has...he will use them. He as already commited genocide against the kurds over a 100 thousand gassed and fryed. what in the fuck are the french going to do about that? nothing, just like everyone else. So, here... go read Frankenstein by shelly one more time then read your poem, and tell me again how much you know. Regardless of who's right or wrong. everyones wrong... Iraq must be revamped, and America will take it, and that's why the french are freaked, bercause then they wont be getting their oil that cheap anymore... Yes america is the beast and in the bible... the beast wins fools. Next is N. Korea and you know what...they know it. In a chess game one doesn't stop mid game and start playing checkers for a break... one finishes the game period, and by the way the war already started months ago. our special forces have been working hard inside the borders of Iraq for almost a year... training the kurds. iraq will be under america's thumb within the next year easilly. i'd wager my left hand, care to bet.
This poem looks like the crook of california and the nevada border. Have you heard of lever 2000 soap?
do you like the moon. i do
http://www.rathergood.com/moon_song/
I hate to say this Jeremi, but I think that the opinions of both yourself and Sam Kinneson are simultaneously unbelievably wrong and unbelievably arrogant. Your embarrassing ignorance concerning the AIDS virus was amply demonstrated to us all when you insisted that the word "AIDS" was synonymous with the word "gay". At first glance, this might seem like a perfectly reasonable statement to make, especially in light of recent events in the US of A; but on closer inspection, your naughtiness is made only too clear: "AIDS" is not a word. It is an acronym. When will people learn that it is careless acronymity, not careless promiscuity, that lies at the root of the AIDS problem? How long do we, the British public, have to sit by and watch as thousands of innocent bystanders are carelessly infected with these deadly acronyms before someone gets off their fat bum and actually does something about it? Too long, I say! So, for the love of sweet merciful Christ, please give just two pounds a month, or whatever you can afford, to:
Careless Acronyms Can Kill (C.A.C.K),
24 Bishop's Wagon,
Chauncery Hostel Lane,
Cambridge.
Thank you.
Clear image of a simpler, and perhaps better life. Thank you. Not to nitpick, but there is a misspelling in the second verse.
bsjones84, thank you for commentng on my poem. i am sorry you found it vulgar, and, to be quite honest, i wondered about the poem's vulgarity after you made that remark. then i went back and read it. then i read your poems. and i realized that you have very little grasp of the use of metaphor as a poetic device, and therefore, you would naturally find my writing vulgar. i invite you to reread the poem, with the understanding that there is no sex happening in that particular poem. instead, i am using the excitement one feels at the promise of imminent copulation as a device to describe the excitement that words give to me, and to him. thank you for your time, pilgrim.
p.s. i have plenty of poems where sex actually does happen, and they are far from vulgar in their descriptiveness, if that's what you're looking for. words ezxcite me. what can i say?
Lets not pull punches genitilemen.
REAP IT MCCREADY (slow motion Emilio Estavez baby faced smile, trigger action giggle)
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/s
Try an aqueduct. it worked for those spineless culture swiping Romans.
By the way... i went into my garage today, and was like, "what in the fuck is that smell?". Then i noticed a dead guy who looked like a cross between Bud Abbot and Robert Frost, buyt more brittle and pleasing to the eyes... he was dead from drinking to much gas from the syphon hose hanging out of my car. he didn't know i had that much sugar in my tank... he's stinking up my garage wearing his bike shorts and diplomas now. that dead guy is Babbit11. Dead and stinking up my garage with a funny clear hose hanging out of his mouth and his hand down his pants... life is funny like that...aint it.
Alas, my sense of humor is an extremely honed and barbed penis... way south of the border genitileman.
why you might ask? Low paying soft porn, high paying gay porn. and a ban on donkey cock rings in my county. REAP IT!
As sam kinneson said "what in the fuck are you trying toi grow crops in the desert for, if your starving...move out of the desert... i know it's your father's land and his before that, but it's a desert why are you sitting in a pile of sand trying to grow corn? if your fucking starving why would you have fifteen kids? these people don't need food or water for christ sake. they need someone to explain to them
that a pile of sand fifteen kids aids and three corn kernals pretty much means your fucked it's time to move and try something new.
Babbits ghost is a crutch for a hoax, and well
Beaver cleaver wouldn't shake his moist lever at it
you stinketh today queer blanket of mold
for the smell of your mustache has
made your sound old.
I was with you until 'nebby burghal'. I'm curious what it means now, but the lack of understanding formed a barrier within the piece for me.
Very nice. The scattered rhythm and numbering sets a great backdrop of chaotic perception, which then falls into order.
people's faces?
NOT GAY DUDE