Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 01:22 pm
Post subject: re-postin aN OLD poem
Running across the clouds
With your underpants on your head
You can smell the herbs burning
Bales ans Bales of pot
Burning
Eat the air
There's a dickstain on your forehead
Michelle Leigh
Life in Flannel Collection
3/28/94
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 01:24 pm
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'theres a dickstain on my forehead'
huh, thats juss nasty
cool poem though
darXide - 20 Apr 2003 01:28 pm
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*laughs simply at the word 'dickstain'*
Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 01:28 pm
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the dickstain is the representation of the stigma that pot smokers must bere.
darXide - 20 Apr 2003 01:28 pm
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sorry again....posting problem....
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 01:30 pm
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oh, that makes it more meaningful lady
Aroura - 20 Apr 2003 01:39 pm
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Hehe quite amusing n.n
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 01:40 pm
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| darXide wrote: |
| sorry again....posting problem.... |
shoul;d ahve left iot, made the topic more funnier readin it that many times
lol
Sledgstone - 20 Apr 2003 01:43 pm
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its a serious poem.. O_o
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 01:46 pm
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boss man, i no, but when you see
| darXide wrote: |
| *laughs simply at the word 'dickstain'* |
3 times in a row, it is funny
Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 02:09 pm
Post subject:
An Evening with D&J
Conversations with friends over tinkeling classes of vodka & o.j.
Tendrils of smoke surrounding and aboundin.Beautiful waves of violence emitted by the stereo. The Chicken Guru, The silent victem of society, and the mother of the new Lord.
What is it they talk about?
I can tell you I am there I hear all
They talk about me you know. Sometimes they lie
Let me taste your anarchy It poisons me sweetly.
You are all dieing I myself am dead
I am not a slave I tried to show you
how to breath Get out of my oxygen tent you dont belong here
Do I really need all of these followers ?
Why do they talk about me? Why am I a hero?
I've lived it all Birth is the death of youth
Dream the Blue dream if you nedd my guidance
Find the pathway out of here in the
middle of a field
He told me freedom exsisted in my
schoolbooks but I didnt have them
People adore me People piss me off
Have you ever met a waste of human flesh?
I listen to my music loud. I drive fast
Fuck red lights stop signs traffic flowing
Hit the highway Queen of the road Put
me behind the wheel
Let me show you that
Pray that you can end the maze & go to Nirvana
Crackheads are worthless
I love my people They take good care of me
I have a lot to do tomorrow
Who is orgasmatron really?
I'll kill you your soul is mine
I am a demonic wish on the
Rainbow
Lovw mw Worship me......... Nevermind
You already do
Michelle Leigh
Life in Flannel Collection
2/3/93
Noin - 20 Apr 2003 02:16 pm
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wow this is so spastic.. lol, interesting stuff.
i have no idea on what to comment for once.
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 02:16 pm
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i have never read poetry like that
thasnks for showin it to me
Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 02:17 pm
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just say it ............. its
weird .....
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 02:21 pm
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ok i will
WIERD,
i can barly follow it,
ill re-read it when i wake up and refreshed
Sledgstone - 20 Apr 2003 02:24 pm
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*blinks*
yes... weird.
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 02:33 pm
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6000
yeah
Well is the party forum after all
sings safty dance
back on topic
whats the dep meaning
Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 02:37 pm
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i can take it apart fer you n explaine it
Guyver - 20 Apr 2003 02:40 pm
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ok, what ever is easiest
Ladywriter - 20 Apr 2003 03:00 pm
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An Evening with D&J < title>
Conversations with friends over tinkeling classes of vodka & o.j.
Tendrils of smoke surrounding and aboundin.Beautiful waves of violence emitted by the stereo. The Chicken Guru, The silent victem of society, and the mother of the new Lord.
<what the writer sees going on in the present>
What is it they talk about?
I can tell you I am there I hear all
They talk about me you know. Sometimes they lie
<writer of the poem makes direct contact with the reader>
Let me taste your anarchy It poisons me sweetly.
<writer feeds off of something, but its killing writer>
You are all dieing I myself am dead
<writer overdoses on writers ppl and dies.writers ppl are dieing >
I am not a slave I tried to show you
how to breath Get out of my oxygen tent you dont belong here
<writer tried to show ppl something and ppl did not see it>
Do I really need all of these followers ?
Why do they talk about me? Why am I a hero?
<writer questions why writer has these people>
I've lived it all Birth is the death of youth
Dream the Blue dream if you nedd my guidance
Find the pathway out of here in the
middle of a field
<the writer lived and died fast.>
He told me freedom exsisted in my
schoolbooks but I didnt have them
<writer needed something that was unable to achieve>
People adore me People piss me off
<writers feeling>
Have you ever met a waste of human flesh?
I listen to my music loud. I drive fast
Fuck red lights stop signs traffic flowing
<writer reflects on what life was like when alive>
Hit the highway Queen of the road Put
me behind the wheel
Let me show you that
<writer sucombs to writers people>
Pray that you can end the maze & go to Nirvana
Crackheads are worthless
I love my people They take good care of me
<writers last words to reader>
I have a lot to do tomorrow
<confirms writers place with writers people>
Who is orgasmatron really?
<representation of unanswered questions>
I'll kill you your soul is mine
I am a demonic wish on the
Rainbow
<warning to the reader and the writers ppl>
Lovw mw Worship me......... Nevermind
You already do
<writer has surrenderd self to being some sort mock idol fer writers peeps>
*fewwwwwwwwwwwww*
Michelle Leigh
Life in Flannel Collection
2/3/93[/quote]
dark_templer_102 - 20 Apr 2003 07:03 pm
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weird...but very good poems
End of Topic.