I do hope you will forgive me, Sir! I don't know what came over me! A thousand apologies!

New levels of something....not quite sure what the something is. Learn to spell, god damn you!

A very successful Haiku. 8. A delightful choice of words make the 'bog' standard subject matter rise above the 'crap'. Vivid and concise, with a beautiful summation to close.

Not bad at all. 7. The start to the piece is very good, as is the final third. I'd have personally worked on the middle section a little more; the stanza's seem much more laboured than in other parts of the poem. However, I feel I'm nitpicking now, and so will cease my criticisms. In general, very good. I think the line 'Break fast' is lovely.

Apologies (all thousand of them) graciously accepted. Imitation, they say, is the sincerest form of flattery. They also say that flattery will get you...something...but what it is escaps me at the moment.

perhaps from a pre leaving kansas meditation? i love when mr. rivers starts going off about his mother in law in that biography, and also how it was unauthorized yet he co-wrote it...hilarious...have you watched little nicky lately, cuz that could have left some pitchy residue..'dead city radio' on cd, by burroughs is a fucking epic(check it out) it's slammerific, and on the road, cd version is also anti brad pittian, and antideluvian.......ah my bageled lox are here..time to twist and bend my alexandered wrist..i

i personally prefer to drop a syllabol after the third line it speeds it up and hourglasses the over all effect, for me any way, to each his own....i once made a giant gaseous beak by tying thirteen midgets up in the back of a rented el camino in nebraska and feeding them rotten avacodo omlettes with spent spam... all of their radished ass plugs popped at the same time when we hit about sixty mph, the gaseous beak formed immediately and resembled the aura of pig pen in charlie browns lucy ball removing universe, yes we were a charging vision, racing through the cornfields of sleepy america, screaming chevy engine, confused shrieking cluster of midgets, gnomes and dwarves(when i get to drunk and go out to drug and kidnap little people, i have a hard time differentiating. if i was thinking clearer at the time i would of waited to enter it in the tournament of roses parade, but your never on top of your game like that until after the fact..still people were running and praying, holding their sun dressed children up to be blessed, we blew through shucking the corn as we went no handed, our gaseous beak was a floating helmet of power and stench, the mantra enraptured midgets tooting away in time with the pistons, i gripping the wheel in terror and amusement thought "oh jesu, what did i do? look what my slumming has finally come too..

Should this be sung to the theme music of Mighty Mouse? It's certainly bad enough. 2. Sir, in submitting material such as this, I can only conclude that you are an egomaniac, a total prat, or more than likely, both.

Very average. 6. It's actually written rather well in my opinion, but I think that the major problem is the subject matter; I don't think anybody could write a love poem about snow without the overriding smell of naffness and cheese rising through the house.

You, Sir, are a knave and a coward. Your poemes are the very epitome of rogueishness. Your comments display nothing but your lack of appreciation for the finer arts, and your ignorance is both disgraceful in the eyes of Jesu and an abomination unto the Lord. Furthermore, the scoundrel known as "-=li9h+_4nG3L=-" is neither my bum-pal nor, indeed, any association of mine. I bid you a good day, Sir, and I will thank you to consult a lawyer before you so shamefully dirty my good name!

This has no merit at all. 0. The language is dull and unimaginative, and to have the final line in caps simply highlights how hard the poem must work in order to grab the reader's attention before it thankfully ends. I'm afraid there are no positives to mention, aside from the fact that it is mercifully short.

Nice. 7. The first verse is a cracker, and the feelings of melancholy and resignation are carried well throughout the poem. I like this, and I'm not usually a fan of sentimental slop.

excuse me. Art can be anything u wish it to be. And this peom is about a site that actually does this stuff to live breathing kittens. I hate it. I wrote about it so others will know the horror of what happens to these poor inosent creatures. I don't care if you are mad but being mad and trying to make me feel bad isn't going to work. So forget it.

Count the syllables dweeb-cheekes. I think you'll find that 'And had only one tit' scans better. You, Sir, know nothing of beaks. Did you know I once made a total of 20 beaks out of yellow paper (which I folded into exact beak replicas) and placed them in someone's bag without them seeing! Think of the look on their stupid face when they peered inside! It seems their 'brief'case contained more than brieves! It was a 'beak'case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!LOL!

Huh? dammit! I thoght this was an anonymous site! (Actually i'm the love-child of the midget chick from poltergeist, and yoda is my father, so all those 'aprentices' out there better watch what they say, or I'm telling daddy!) I generally like to tape my nipple up, rather than down, and I find that ben gay does wondrous things, when applied to the proper mucous membrane. There. You have it. my secrets are out! Fast and furius, my magick is!

this isn't original at all. Unless you, that drunk guy in the kilt at the Highland games, that drug dealer on the bus and my strange cousin Tony are all the same person, this is not original work. It's funny though.

I Remain, Yours Truly, -= li9h+_4nG3L =-. Oh, and I'd appreciate if you took the time to spell my name PROPERLY, since I went to the trouble of having it leaglly changed. Good day to you, sir.

These limericks did not amaze OR confuse me, so I suggest that you think longer and harder about your titles before you use them so flippantly, my good man. However, aside from the last one (which seems to be a little comment with reference to one of your bum-pals), they raised a smile, so I gives you a 5.

Pehaps you are the midget chick from poltergeist? if you fondel your medicine bag with your nipples teped down and your diaphram on your forehead wearing your father's briefcase as a tucks medicated pad, your magic will travel farther faster.

Now that's a fuckin field trip!