The Red Roof
The red roof was red
The red roof was red the red
roof was red the red
[sub]thank you, thank you[/sub]
I sing of thee, o back pimple,
for summing up for me my life,
for bringing me, in short, my present,
faced with which, I had no choice,
but to act.
Several days it was approaching,
bearing in it who knows what,
building up to some dark climax,
gathering the noxious substance,
beneath the skin.
.
No dark force could have informed it,
festering abysmally,
that its presence duplicated,
all its hosts pathetic trials,
all his gaffes, his weak resolve,
his meek acceptance of temptation,
his faltering and plain ambitions,
mirrored there upon a shoulder,
borne within.
Days of pain anticipated,
nights of sleeplessness, fatigue,
building towards that one sharp moment,
the thankful, glad realization,
that with the proper care and pressure,
all these matters could, so gently,
but so painfully, in sudden burst,
of gushing, strange complete relief,
to a head.
There once was a man from New Joisey
who packed up and moved to Boise
His friends all inquired
why he felt so inspired
He said, “Idaho is less noisy”
Nothing, IMo, beats StinkyMeat haiku.
For the cause of all this beautiful poetry, begin at the beginning.
I think that I shall never see
a poem lovely as SDMB.
darn it, I forgot the rest.
On a more serious note, here is the worst haiku I ever wrote. This will make more sense if you know of the hysteria over Aum Shinrikyo’s abduction of their harshest critic, Mr. Sakamoto. It was suspected that Aum murdered him and buried him in a forest. I wrote this poem while they were digging up the forest hunting for his body:
Sakamoto-shi,
doko ni iru kai.
Daijoubu?
(Mr. Sakamoto,
where are you?
Are you OK?)
This poem seriously offended about half of my classmates and a few teachers as well.
I am so depressed
this stamp on my hand
serves as the only reminder
that my plight here is useless
I drink this beer
and I do not talk to you
do you not understand
No you do not
dance away
I will not remember
Hell… you want bad fucking poetry? I’ll give you bad fucking poetry.
She was a comely fetching lass
what I noticed first was her shapely ass
Her hair was long and brown
I was staring down her gown
we went to a local bar
and ummm like did shit in her car
So…I really wrote this about 6 years ago- and I wasn’t high. It was a goof then, too though. I think.
** Meatballs**
Little round balls of meat,
Feel so gross to bare feet.
Maybe I can find the one that talks about how flowers are pretty, but cause allergy symptoms…
Blister and peel my finger
Has touched the fire
Of Eternal Damnation.
Smoke and smolder my skin
Reeks of the charcoal
That Cooks The Devil
Ouch, damn --burns
Anger Rage Fire COOK BACON NAKED!
Then you will know hell
in your soul food.
[sup]Thank you, thank you very much. I’ll see you all over at the poetry slam at the JavaScript Cafe
Old Nantucket man
calls autofellatio
easy … Ow, my back!
Oh flaming anus
never silent, never still
F**KING HEMORRHOIDS!
One blurry picture
Unconvincing, unconfirm’d
Bigfoot on the loose!
Verdant Urgency
Hunger beating buzzing air
Gentle Hummingbird
I’ll speak her language,
maybe then she’ll go for me:
buck, buckbuck, bucKAW.
Vegetable Man
Don’t stare and whisper
I am not an animal
I’m a human bean
There once was a man from a place
who did something that rhymes with the first line
then something else happened
as a result of it
and here’s the amusing last part