An Exercise In Iambs: [spam poetry] | xltronic messageboard
 
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An Exercise In Iambs: [spam poetry]
 

offline swift_jams from big sky on 2005-10-28 13:50 [#01764084]
Points: 7577 Status: Lurker



"Elaine"

Her face is a reminder of,
A subtle sunset in the sky.
That voice so sweet, a lullabye.
Those gentle lips speak of my love.

Her eyes, a vision of my dreams.
A fantasy, so far it seems.
If only I could tell her how,
When in her presence, my heart screams.

Her short, soft hair against my skin,
My fingers run across her cheek.
Our bodies shiver, close to sin.
Of this I wish, but do not speak.

 

offline epohs from )C: on 2005-10-28 14:06 [#01764094]
Points: 17620 Status: Lurker



All I want to do is zooma zoom zoom zoom and a boom boom.

 

offline _gvarek_ from next to you (Poland) on 2005-10-28 15:40 [#01764144]
Points: 4882 Status: Lurker



not bad

 

offline hanal from k_maty only (United Kingdom) on 2005-10-28 15:46 [#01764147]
Points: 13379 Status: Lurker | Show recordbag



roses are red
violets are blue
she had big tits
and i sucked on them too

 

offline rasec from mty (Mexico) on 2005-10-28 15:46 [#01764148]
Points: 654 Status: Regular



bonner!

 

offline dog_belch from Netherlands, The on 2005-10-28 15:58 [#01764159]
Points: 15098 Status: Addict | Show recordbag



This wonderfully incisive exercise, whilst being
rhythmically perfect evokes all sorts of powerful sensations
through it's scattershot choice of language, meter, measure
and tone. Imagery is evoked such as "A subtle sunset in
the sky.".. we've all seen a subtle sunset, but the
genius of the writer lies here "in the sky"... how many
normal people would have noticed that sunsets occur... in
the sky? The watchful eye of the poet must never rest. And
because it's poetry, normal everyday language finds itself
lacking, and the author must rely on Poetry Language, a kind
of mish mash of half remembered things that "old poets"
said, a bit like Yoda (a modern day bard), mixing up the
order of WORDS in his sentences. "Of this I wish, but do
not speak" echoes the final, rueful lament ... Of "it"
(sex) he wishes... but he doesn't mention it becuase he
knows, being fugly, the short haired lezza currently
reclining languidly, unconconcious by his side, would surely
reject him. A timely reminder therefore, of the need to act
now, before an Environmental Apocalypse.


 

offline swift_jams from big sky on 2005-10-28 16:13 [#01764175]
Points: 7577 Status: Lurker | Followup to dog_belch: #01764159



That is a poem in itself, what you have typed.

 

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