This is very funny. This is exactly what would happen if Jesus turned up in Wales. Have you read Nicholas Jones's stuff on here?

Good, I like it. It takes a couple of readings, that makes it better. If you care(9. Hi K!

Definitely in the heart. This is very beautiful. Sometimes it bothers me about how people develop blind spots for themselves. The rhythm is gorgeous.

Where are those TPC report covers, Lnshdw? Your poem, although you can cinch it even tighter, already puts a noose of quiet desperation 'round me neckbone.

Who the hell is chris? You sound like a Pete who can't write.

Well, apparently your God isn't THAT great, seeing as he didn't manage to keep ME away. 'We don't do it fight'? Do you mean that you don't fight, or that you don't fuck right? I permit myself to guess the latter. 'Blungged'? Nice to know he created you with luck, but he certainly didn't give you talent. 'What you thought was steel wall'? What IS this tripe? And is it a ceiling or a ball (or God's balls?), crystal or glass? I hate to inform you of this, but crystal and glass are not the same thing. 'Breaking away the devil'? What's that supposed to mean? I assure you I'm not broken, and I'm definitely not away. Sorry if that injures your faith. Actually, not sorry at all. You deserve to be hunted down by the Inquisition for this. Put in thumbscrews, racked, pricked, and finally burnt live at the stake. I volunteer to lead the execution squad. We'll also make you read this aloud and laugh at you. 'My appreciation to you'? That is idiotic. How can you appreciate TO something? You are a silly silly girl who needs to learn basic English grammar, poetic form, some creative ideas (though that would doubtless require a lobotomy or something similar -- Igor! Go for brains!), and the fact that if God does exist, he obviously doesn'T care for the human race, because if he did, he would never have permited this abomination to exist. Get thee to a nunnery and wall yourself up there, dearie, you'll be doing everyone a favour

The nick is the distinctive, final, signifying mark of the creator of art, the slight imperfection reflecting the author's unique ingenuity while admitting with humility the imperfection of mortal existence before the pure presence of the almighty represented by the observations of others.

One thing we don't do is fight? Is that what you meant? And if you don't fight with your God and test it, what the hell point is there to being alive? Don't be a sponge.

i smell rudolpho', boy he is a hell of a painter, he paints like i faint...naked. 8.

It's definitely an improvement. It's like anything else. You have to keep practicing. This may be your form of expression or it may not. try other releases as well. who knows you might be a dancer. You're admirably determined. it's not an overnight thing. Get intosicated and write down every word that enters you.

Fuck yes! S4 is briliant. Simple. "The scythe of the bells" is unique and has a lovely sound. Please help loneshadow out. He's got the will but lacks only the tools. Lend him some of yours please. You are a fine craftsman.

o.k. you're headed in the right direction but you need to lighten the load. The first line is no good for a start. Falling Fast. Falling swiftly past the memories. She cherished me once, or so I thought./ Not "the nights" But " cold nights long nights warm nights. Tell m eexactly, precisely what the nights were. Remember and show me. Stop writing like you're thinking. Start writing like you're feeling. "My love blanketing her from the indifferent, frigid, callous, insensible night. This process takes hours upon hours. Read something in the meantime. that always helps me. Pray to her. Use your subconscience as well. Say the words aloud. Make the tears flow from your eyes

Ick. your words don't scan well, your format irritates me like an angry spider trapped in a pair of thong panties and your subject is dull and sappy. Get back on your knees and go back to sucking on crucifixes.

I wish my wife spooned me like that! Forgive me if I take this at face value. No,wait... You are the roommate, the dead shape is the bed? I have to understand depth before I can write it. Yes?

How bout.. Fucking bitch you broke my heart, you ain't nothing but a stupid, lousy tart, now i lie alone and sad, you made me feel so fucking bad, you left because i was a loser, but will you love me as a boozer you smug lousy lay give me back my t.v. give me back my cb, so i can hit the road tugging all day and keep the memory of your ugly smile at bay, you hag you drag take a cab to my pad i wll show what you never had. That is direct.

Take the ands out. Take the ofs out. Take the thats out. "Oh god her smile" is what I'm looking for. It's working. Go to it.

50% of what you write goes sweeping past my head. Like the B2, I can't hear it til long after. I will ruminate.

erm...

clever.

A rugby song for poets. And a funny last verse.