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Saint Fu
OK KIDS.

So, back in the day, I had a hobby. It was a mean-spirited and arrogant hobby, because that is how I roll. I would take the lousy poems of dumb kids and write a whole new poem based on the sentiment. Occasionally I'd write a response poem. My poems were better because it was pretty much impossible to be worse, and it was fun, and it was oddly challenging at the same time.

Here is my plan! If you have written a crappy poem or if you see a poem that is so bad it makes you wish your black heart could squeeze out some tears somewhere on the OP/L forum, you post them here, and I will make something new and probably awesome out of them.

Please note that if you post a poem you wrote and call it crappy even though it is not, I will just ignore you because you are an attention whore.

If you post a poem that someone else wrote and call it crappy even though it is not, I will post some kind of defense - angry, eloquent, or both - and then ignore you because you are petty and kind of a jerk.

We're talking about the dregs, here.

OK GET CRACKING.
Gambol
Do you know how much I love you for this?

heart heart heart
Saint Fu
Gambol
Do you know how much I love you for this?

heart heart heart


Almost as much as you ought to. eek
Gambol
Here... the unedited version:

Quote:
Thoughts are dying
in this cold world
I end up taking in
every single word
my letters are torn
my memories few
my heart remains
faithful to you
broken bottles
empty love notes
shameless lying
cross out what I wrote
nevermind
the things I said
nevermind
nevermind==========================================================================================I left that night
went out of the way
it came into sight
and became clear for me
I let it drown me
as the wind blocked
my torn memories
I fell down a cold sidewalk
and watched my hands
hit the floor
This is
what I've
reduced
myself to
This is
what I
got you into
We're both here now
You suffer with me now==========================================================================================
Drying out
and losing faith
Untitled poems
that drift away


AND IN THE SAME THREAD
by a different guy:
Quote:
Broken Tool (Toy)

My life a living heck....many people know the pain i suffer.......people hurt me and i become this way depressed and thrown aside as if i were a used tool that has no longer a purpose to be used....like a child throwing a way a toy that they dont like anymore.....just thrown aside like trash. or hurt so badly that it has no purpose and never will again..........but it wishes it could escape and get away no longer to be broken have a purpose A REASON TO LIVE; TO LOVE; TO CARE.......Plz leave comments if you like my poem.....if you like them ill write more...
Saint Fu
Rush Hour

a reinterpretation of (Thoughtless are dying)

Driving home to you for an hour of miles,
I consider the sun's gentling gold
in rearview -- the idle swoop of flush
that is slowly slinking into the swallow,
the long slow swallow of tonight.

I see that dark throat ahead of me,
and black travel till I find your side,
and slick evening wronging you
before I can arrive, but still.
I'll find my heartless life amid this
if you, beloved, provide the stars
of cars' startling brights.

I'll in turn provide the crawling coil
and find what I can in the chrome snake
to you, beyond the traffic.
dibba dibba doo
Gambol

AND IN THE SAME THREAD
by a different guy:
Quote:
Broken Tool (Toy)

My life a living heck....many people know the pain i suffer.......people hurt me and i become this way depressed and thrown aside as if i were a used tool that has no longer a purpose to be used....like a child throwing a way a toy that they dont like anymore.....just thrown aside like trash. or hurt so badly that it has no purpose and never will again..........but it wishes it could escape and get away no longer to be broken have a purpose A REASON TO LIVE; TO LOVE; TO CARE.......Plz leave comments if you like my poem.....if you like them ill write more...


In the bowels of the ship of heck, I am a complex wreck. A wreck within a
wreck because I like tootsie-roll pops. I dine on shark skeletons, cannons
(sticking from the quilt slits) and all. If you throw people at me, I'll wear
them like toothy scales. I'll pace the deck (not very well) with a stupid
barbie doll for a peg leg. That's the working mom barbie you threw away.
My tri-cornered hat hurts so badly in the rain because it is a bad hat with
no reason to live except for the seagull droppings that break open like an
egg on a sunny day. My looking glass can't get it up to explore a new land!

((I evolve the awful into new awful)) xd
No Cookie Four You
is this crappy
Please tell me what you think.

Puppet

I'm just a little puppet
That's all I am to you
Tangled by my little strings
Having no right or wrong to do

Mother I am leaving
But the strings just don't break
I'm tired of living
A life that you want to take

I can hear the whispers calling
They tell me it's not right
What you do is wrong
This is my birthright

I'm still just a puppet
But what is this wood going to do
The strings that have always hold me
Are about to let go

Nobody can stop me
I'm going to be on my own
The only help that I'll need
Is from God and God alone

I know now that jumping
Is a pleasent way to go
They told me down here
That in heaven I'll see snow
No Cookie Four You
Saint Fu
Rush Hour

a reinterpretation of (Thoughtless are dying)

Driving home to you for an hour of miles,
I consider the sun's gentling gold
in rearview -- the idle swoop of flush
that is slowly slinking into the swallow,
the long slow swallow of tonight.

I see that dark throat ahead of me,
and black travel till I find your side,
and slick evening wronging you
before I can arrive, but still.
I'll find my heartless life amid this
if you, beloved, provide the stars
of cars' startling brights.

I'll in turn provide the crawling coil
and find what I can in the chrome snake
to you, beyond the traffic.
Saint Fu
Gordian Knot
a reinterpretation of Puppet

That tangle was
in the lamb's wool,
was in the doll's pale ringlet
and baby's breath clustered
in bootshadow, and
our mouths had swallowed
too long the puzzle's grope
as playful. If not the answer
if not the solution
then freedom
from this handsy
this crafty uncle's
lazy eye.
I moved quick
and returned to the desert
where nothing lingers.
Vespertine
Where you in the House of Pain? Am I showing my age?

Anyway, we had a lovely little hobby of buying out a bad poem for a handful of gold, and then creating a madlibs style crit of it in the most mean spirited of ways. Wonderful fun, I say.

I miss the days when the intelligentsia were the mongol horde of flame-wielding trolls. c'est la vie.
Saint Fu
I was indeed as my altered self. Jolly fun wot.
Vespertine
Saint Fu
I was indeed as my altered self. Jolly fun wot.


who are you?

that's not fair, what with the name changes and all. how in the bloody hell am i s'posed to keep up with all the evolving pseudonyms and such? I'M ONLY ONE MAN! (half, technically, since gays are second class citizens)
Alchemiholic
TAKEOVER (hostile)
Probably Zero
Vespertine
Saint Fu
I was indeed as my altered self. Jolly fun wot.


who are you?


alterdayshift

She is love. heart heart
Vespertine
zero the last decepticon
Vespertine
Saint Fu
I was indeed as my altered self. Jolly fun wot.


who are you?


alterdayshift

She is love. heart heart


NO s**t?!
heart

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