SLEUTHbucks Poetry Corner
I make this thread in honor of my good friend BadAss. He and I discussed how it would be nice to have more poetry, so he we go. Now we can all sit around drinking coffee and writing poetry.
I'll put a poem later.
Like butterflies on my face
Showing me your love
Let's never leave this place.
Swirling all around
I know I'm missing out
All my dreams hit the ground.
Fall as I long for you
To hold me in your arms
I love, but you have no clue.
To myself a sweet love song
To erase my terminal sadness
I've loved you for so long.
At last you can see
How much I need you
And how much you love me.
Like butterflies on your face
Showing you my love
We shall NEVER leave this place.
Friend, I met a man
Who touched me as no one else can
He touched a place in my heart
That I had removed and set apart
For all of the blood and gore
That I had seen throughtout the war
I sat and listened for years and years
As I held hands and dried tears.
I was a friend to those that wanted
To tell the stories that kept them haunted.
"I killed a man," a man told me,
"And left the body for all to see
Like a warning to them all
That we mean business and are on the ball."
"I accidently shot a woman," said another
"And left some child without a mother."
One man yelled "I'll kill myself!"
As he grabbed a knife from my shelf.
I cried out, "No, don't do it!"
He laughed, "What more can life take? I say Screw it!"
Wars wreck havoc on our land
We deal with our own hands
But peace won't heal this at all
It'd be like smashing rocks with a ball
No, the answer isn't peace;
That's like calming water with hot grease.
The answer is UNDERSTANDING
And being a little less DEMANDING.
The answer lies within us all
And if one day it's you duty calls
Remember this poem as you fight
So you know you've done it right.
The ice-cream man's a-coming!
Hear the kiddies sing
The backyard pool is filling!
Hear the kiddies sing
Hello you all
I've just come back
I'm hungry for Sleuth
But only have time for a snack
I'd like to say hi to everyone
how ya doin, how ya been?
I've been just peachy
And I'm glad to be back again.
So y'all come on, knock on my door
send me a PM
You know you're all welcome,
So COME ON IN!
Glad to be back, even if for only an hour and a half.
Any one there?
Crunchy is making
Dolls from back hair
On so many levels,
It's just plain wrong;
Crunchy's walkin' around
In his crimson man thong!
hu is dis crunchy?
im sorry to say..
hes not that kewl
mak him go away.
<3 <3 Ciara
Crunchy is amazing
Really not bad
But i hope he goes to boxers
When he's a dad!
Sara is fun
She makes me giggle.
Screw boxers though,
Loose cloth makes me wiggle.
Ladies n' gents, I give you the one and only Ani Difranco:
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it's part of a pair
there on the bow of Noah's ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its Indian summer breeze
on the day that America
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for it to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky
and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything I've seen so far
so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on
and I'll tell you what, while we're at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every TV
that's been trying to convince me
in some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
is still hanging in the air
and there's ash on our shoes
and there's ash in our hair
and there's a fine silt on every mantle
from hell's kitchen to Brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
so here's a toast to all the folks who live in Palestine
here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. Rushmore
here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of Oklahoma City
just to listen to a young woman's voice
here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream
cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
Jeb said he'd deliver Florida, folks
and boy did he ever
and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 George W. Bush is not president
#2 America is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz I am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
I've got no room for a lie so verbose
I'm looking out over my whole human family
and I'm raising my glass in a toast
here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
I dream of touring like Duke Ellington