linger, lurking behind me.
Mucus on my neck.
It's national poetry day. This is the best I can do while still recounting my day. Perhaps a sonnet is better suited to detail my agony of a hangover, but the inspiration is wanting.
Allowed
Lowly
Lionness
Yeasted
Scornful
Opiate-like
Nudistic
This is poem two, which I invite us all to do.
Perhaps I'll have another go. Another goo.
Albatross
Linking
Ladylike
Youths
Sadistically
Organizing
Nastiness
That is meant to tell a story of what happens when you put on yer albatross and forget to take it off before going clubbing with a gang of yobs.
I really don't know how to emphasize the importance of always removing yer sea creatures, including those who fly over the sea, before trying to grind against a tin man. Perhaps, the story is better told from the point of view of a toothless child because life must be different when your teeth are falling out in your mouth and fairies are following you and stealing.
We ain't got no pictures this time around.
sorry.
4 comments:
National poetry day, huh.
J'aimerais te dire ce qui me passe par le tete
J'aimerais venir dans ton univers a la fete
Je voudrais te faire voir ce qui se cache dans mon ame
Mais sans espoir je suis et me sens infame.
De tes pensees je souhaiterais m'entretenir
Chaque jour de ton sourire me nourrir
Mon coeur et doux lorsqu'il pense a toi
Mon corps s'enflamme mais le supplice est joie
Peur est une amie bien proche de mon coeur
Elle me ronge, me torture et me laisse dans ma torpeur
Mais elle me fuit soudain a ton regard
De sensibilite, emu, j'en reste toujours hagarre
De cette main que tu poses sur moi
De cette etreinte qui me porte plus loin
De ton amour qui ne tarie pas
Ton coeur et le mien sont a jamais joints
J'ai fait ce que j'ai pu...
Too much studying body parts
Removed me from the social arts.
I can only see my friends
When the work-filled quarter ends.
Although I'm absent, worry not
Our friendships I have not forgot.
P.S. I wish I had your talent for original metaphor. It would make writing my book a lot easier.
I will sell you some original metaphor.
Did I ever tell you how once in High School, I created a simile to use in a paper. The teachers were anti this new technique and said I couldn't just make up similes and metaphors, to which I argued and was most likely detained in some sort of inschool penitentiary, where I discovered me potential for hand turkeys.
Oh et Grod you are needing to make music go with yer words N then you will be famuouso musicianana like the poppa bear.
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