Ah! Writing is always a good excuse. Mine is a one-year-old with an ear infection. On my chest right now trying to find sleep. Explains my poor typing tonight.

Thos ode to goD is riddled with typos. So much so that I stopped reading it. Fix those and maybe I will try again.

Do i see the ghost of Humbert Humbert in these lines? Is this reverse psychology or just proof that any common collection of sentences can be a poem or haiku?

right its settled then, just one more mint waffer for the lady. g-mornin and see you later, sorry H8 i cant see the to hounds at the moment its time for beddy byes

nobody likes prune ice cream you birthmark, thats the point

Ha! You got fucking babbit to come out his forest. You do have a true ruffian spirit. But really Hours, he's one of the good guys, utterly modest, easily humbled. A true proletariat than anyone would be proud to drink with. Oh and this rasict fucking poem sucks!!! Ha, kidding.

So what is your excuse for being at home ripping poetry and shagging doylum in the comment box at 2am your time on a Friday no less. I suppose the weekend lost its meaning when I learned to drink on weekdays. Oh well.

I don't speak your language. Can you say that in English?

good evening, mrs. g. on't mind D, he's all a-titter over talk of vessels rife with whine and prune ice cream. besides, i think he's signed off for the night.

i don't think i ripped any poetry yet, tonight anyway. i've been shining up my karma, and practicising my Frassian--keeping that asp of a tongue in my mouth when i'm bent. i 'm trying to put a little something balladic together, seeing as how the olden times are back with an elven-smite vengence. what's your excuse

i love babbits stuff...when i'm hunting turkey and bass fishing...nah, he's got alot of talent and he always makes very valid points in his comments, but come on! everyones gotta have a little jeckyle/hyde flair! or life would be a snore and full of long drawn out whitman odes for christ sake...not saying i don't like whitman, just saying...some styles get hollow and overworked, therefore...take a risk..try something new....so, that said....let's pudpull on three...groovy..

First off, the moon is not empty. It has a golf ball and a flag among other things on it. And, moon dust. Holy cow, you are trying to take huge themes and put them into a tiny little poem. And I understand what you are doing with the title, or at least what I would have used it for had I been a poor enough writer to write this. Thank God, I am not. Anyway, off the subject. A good law of poetry (I know, I know, there are no laws, poetry can be anything my tender heart wants it to be) is to write what you know, know what you write. It is good to try to make a statement but try to find something subtler and evoke it. It will have much more power in the long run. The mankind slipping on ice is just terrible. Ugh!

i do not think this is an ode to me; must be some other Z. Some other Z who finds him a bit too...raw. not that there aren't some lovely raws to be had, it's just that this style of it is not one of them. so, what i'm trying to say is that I LIKE THIS POEM. (i also like prune ice cream. there. my Hubris. destroy me with it.)

the title is perfect and then you started doing that crazy thing you do with your brain...thinking..think less, thinking has nothing to do with writing. it just gets in the way and complicates the simple(yime up while i squezze this pimple.there)..this poem looks like a steak cooking a cow..6/10

you sir..need an overdose of swollen shaft...your chivalry is charasmatically uncomitted. i pray you knoch her up, and work in a factory until you lose your mind, then.....we can only hope have shakeb this preposterious pointless material...train wreck.2/10

dead..because i read...FUCK MY eyes....oh jesu..the cad has penised my eyes...drink urine from now on to properly operate your writing vehicle...JESUS FUCKING christ...replace every "cut" with "nun"...to better this skin rash...FUCK HAAAAAAAA!

look on the bright side...you might find some interesting material to work with in the gutersmouth...we hope................gopher.bobbypin.dandruff.jete.

unstained, EE. inside out. yes.

and with that said i really must get some shut eye ready for the next lesson

Hey, if this is a love poem to Z, she is in the comment box with Doylum right now going at it!!!!!! Sorry, you cannot be enough for her. Maybe you should take her out for prune ice cream.