<{Baba^Yaga}>
on Of Curves and Straight Lines by Quarton
30 Nov 2002, 4:22 PM
i read this to band on the run by mccartney...it was quite the experience...graphing to music and the drumm66g of the keyboard...clever and honest. we're so sorry uncle albert.........but there no one left at home and i..believe.
when the lemming run by don't let them convince you that you don't know where you're going...okay?.
-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
replying on A certain kind of misanthropy. by Plasticgirlwithgun
30 Nov 2002, 3:33 PM
Only because of the last two lines though. The rest of the poeme smells.
You win.
To be honest, you do inspire me in that you earn money by writing and in your spare time you write stuff like this. I was going to say that originally but for some reason I thought you had a sense of irony.
I didn't think it would piss you off. I thought you would realise it wasn't serious. SORRY. NEXT TIME I'LL UNDERLINE ALL THE BITS THAT AREN'T 100% MY ACTUAL OPINION. THANKS FOR PLAYING.
little tommy shookiedoo was a hell of a polo player he would score and clinch it in the third chucker. his daddy rewarded him with plastic for his date later on with susie vonschnickleheimer. they were in love.they had plastic..things were perfectly rotten..in a accurately horrifying way...yes..yes.l
-=Dark_Angel=-. You bloat me, if only because you disprove it's possible for anyone so socially retarted to give a fuck about the illusion in front of the 'reallity' of it all, but than constantly deny how you consistantly smell it out to stick your fat fucking face in it, then say you don't (mr. paradox works in the biggest circus of all)..EXCEPT WHEN IT COMES TO MY SON MICAH BLAH BLAH then you come over like a proud peacock plucked clean to shit, and toe dirt scratch, but better than a barnyard chicken, A PEACOCK! throw your head back and prance off to sit on the fence all day (thanks for proving to me that john ashcroft got his edge and a collection of paperweights..congradulations) oh also heres to your long lineage of ass studying ancestory..wait i take it all back. You're a bank teller. smile and don't forget to clock out. i bet you think it pisses me off when you write things like that about my son and and sex life and mode's of operating?...you really must not get out very much? did you know that deep sea monsters are capable of creating their own light and using it..to attract food, the end game is about patience, and you get by far more hate mail than me uncle tom. i don't hate you though.. i love you like jesus loved all of his children. come sing on my lap.e
horus8. You inspire me, if only ecause you prove it's possible to lead your life without trying hard or taking anything seriously. EXCEPT YOUR SON MICAH BLAH BLAH yes I'm sure he's very important to you (thanks for letting us do the voice of Spencer Sniper in Leon). oh and also poetry is very important to you. wait, fuck, I take it all back. You suck.
Needs some editing but the mood was engaging with a new twist added to an ages old theme.
Thank you but a fine paint it ain't. (The picture,
not the telling.) Though pretty lies in the eyes of
the observer/poet as well as the cynic and we can
all pick and choose. But, what the hell difference,
"no one listens, no one cares."
A great oxymoron. Straight eight indeed:)
I hate it also but I'm not sure what is truth and what
is fantasy. I tend towards fantasy but hard to hate Little
Miss Muffet or God. (Not the hypocritical or vengeful one.)
Thanks for the nine and typo info. I am still checking out the format and reading poems. Seems to be a neat place to post and critique the work of others and vice versa.
Not bad but seems a bit bland. Needs more vitality but still a 5 from your poem I derive.
Quite poignant and heart felt. Worthy of a 5 but if lack of brevity you were to fix, at least a 6.
What, have you left everyone speechless?
I think you're very talented. You have a lyrical and distinctive voice and an ability to conjure images on the edge of unsettling (here less so than in some of your other poems, but still vivid and evocative). I can't say I always know what your poems are about, per se, but it usually doesn't matter--your central images are usually strong enough to carry the ambiguity.
Not sure I get how broken bottles are "cut in the wings/of an albatross stalking." And your part III baffles me--but I respond to it nonetheless.
Not bad but reads more like an essay than a poem. Wish it was more, only a four