tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128777562024-02-27T22:14:27.100-08:00The Internet Poetry Anthologyan anthology of poems from the internet masqueradep0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1141295664681017572006-03-02T02:33:00.000-08:002006-03-02T02:34:24.693-08:00dr. Mower<span style="font-style:italic;">by goneril</span><br /><br />i was going to marry my doctor. he only forshortened my legs a bit, the cracking of the bones was the worst piece. I could feel bits of bone flayed off my shins as if through a cheese grater. but now the brace had made me stand up straight, real straight. My neck was just squeezed together a bit, he told me only a few centimeters were shaved off the length. my knees were now leathery and strong, tough to shuffle over the concrete cracks. He liked oranges, that was important. I like to carry a plastic bag with a few oranges because it is lighter then a liter of water. Three was a good number, you had to keep filling it because when it dipped below two my balance was off. He had this yellow ceramic bowl glazed with two cherries on a long twig, and that's where he kept those sweet oranges. His hands smelled liked vaseline stretched before my nose tempting with one of those. He had good veins, too, plump, suckable. I know he wanted me, too, because I see has stethoscope swinging under his neck like a pendulum and then just, just when I taste his breath, my mother flies in on those air skates i want and with her coat tails spread out like these evil wings and stops so short that even her skin has to bounce back to the meat and bones to which it clings. I remember I was so ashamed because I left a wet spot on the white paper of the gurney. My mother snapped, "don't be bashful look dr. mower in eye and thank him, doll" and twirled out on her skates again. I hiccuped and cut my tongue on my third tooth to the right, the vampire one. One taste bud popped, I thought. I was obliged to follow her. Doctor lowered me to the floor from underneath my armpits. He peeled the white paper from off my crotch with a quiet rustle. I tried to twirl out like my mother, but fudged it. He patted my buttocks forward with his that fully cupped one side, "sweet child."<br /><br />My mother was fussing with the nurse about the bill outside. She cawed that she wouldn't pay because I looked like I was patched together with tin foil and was now a runt. I wondered why she didn't tell my doctor that. The nurse clamped together her lips and they were silent as I goofed over. I wanted to tell my mother about this warm itch I had on the gurney with dr. Mower.p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1141014147632018682006-02-26T20:22:00.000-08:002006-02-26T20:22:27.663-08:00Primordial Instincts<span style="font-style:italic;">by <a href="http://www.thomasfortenberry.net/">Thomas Fortenberry</a><br /></span><br /><br />Johnny Weismuller threw Jane<br />across my screen -- or Maureen<br />O’Sullivan; him, Tarzan, whichever --<br />and ripped off her dress<br />as she took the plunge<br />into the crystal clear waters<br />of primordial lust.<br /><br />Some things crystalize in memory<br />like black and white shards of broken glass<br />which are all so clear and shining,<br />but can cut to the bone if you pick them up again.<br /><br />I’ve been falling out of trees all my life --<br />no, wait, I’ve got it backwards,<br />I mean I’ve been climbing trees and falling out<br />of love, but always searching for the next<br />thrill, the next height, the next swing<br />into rapturous adventure.<br /><br />Is there a noble savage<br />lurking in every untamed breast?<br /><br />Doubtful<br />about everything, I try to live up<br />to my recycled name<br />in search of wounds<br />as some sort of stigmatic proof<br />of what? Why? Who cares?<br /><br />Trapped as I was in urban jungles<br />and suburban wastelands, it is no wonder<br />my gymnastics died an early death,<br />so unlike that most famous companion<br />bouncing, rolling, and rub-a-fur grinning<br />Cheetah the chimpanzee<br />who became the oldest living cousin<br />of man in the history of the world.<br /><br />Old monkeys never die,<br />but what about libido?<br /><br />You only have to watch the old apes<br />humping each other with abandon<br />to abandon all hope<br />of normalcy. Is it wrong<br />to hate the origin<br />of things from time to time<br />since everyone is so intent<br />on reminding you what the definitions are<br />for hypocrisy, bigamy, adultery,<br />and on and on the list ever endless<br />in its cruel descent through humiliation<br />until there is nothing left but the monolith<br />rising above the apes bum-bum-bum-bum?<br /><br />I can’t do that, Dave.<br /><br />But 2001 has come and gone and<br />there was neither Y2K nor Apocalypse.<br />Not even a return to the moon.<br />Just more staring at the dirt<br />and wondering how to wetwipe<br />a soul burned on the back burner<br />one procrastination too long.<br /><br />Nothing ever changes<br />your mind about things<br />since things are determined to stay<br />put in memory, unless of course it fails<br />a la Alzheimer’s (What a way to go<br />ruin a good name, right? Sounds like an Elder<br />God out of Lovecraft returning<br />to usurp our place in reality.)<br /><br />Twain had it right: Darwin was wrong.<br />We’re not witnessing the Ascent<br />of Man, but rather the Descent<br />of Man from the Higher Animals.<br />It didn’t take many letters from Satan<br />to figure out the damned<br />human race, but it sure helps<br />that I have known<br />many a flesh-clothed demon.p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1139691534599796422006-02-11T12:58:00.000-08:002006-02-11T12:58:54.633-08:00winter frost<i>by senecablood</i><br /><br />my sadness grew too strong<br />can't control it anymore<br />feel like i don't belong<br />another day i'll not endure<br />this empty life's a waste<br />shattered dreams all is lost<br />hold a gun against my face<br />color red the winter frost<br /><br />no love to leave behind<br />depart the world with no goodbye<br />the only friend i'll find<br />the earth who eats me when i die<br />to never smile again<br />feel the warmth of sun's gold ray<br />time now to end the pain<br />the purpose of my final day<br /><br />tranqulity at last<br />i greet you death with open arms<br />when the moment's past<br />the world can do me no more harm<br />the life i used to love<br />an ember that's long since burnt out<br />i turn my eyes above<br />start the bullet on its route<br /><br />too late to turn away<br />as brains are speckled on the ground<br />in death now i must stay<br />the icy darkness i have found<br />there's no eternal sleep<br />for my mad immortal soul<br />emotions i must keep<br />while i am lowered in the hole<br /><br />the life i chose to take<br />i want it back at any cost<br />down below i am awake<br />up above the winter frost"p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1137975941872432042006-01-22T16:24:00.000-08:002006-01-22T16:26:31.216-08:00p0r3<span style="font-style:italic;">by nruhtra</span><br /><br />the creepy crack head friend of mine<br />the homeless place he calls his thought<br />the silly putty tinker toy<br />the mirror ball reflects below<br />the grazing herd the lemming goat<br />the move toward the moving from<br />the winter home upon the hill<br />the summer shade a caving in<br />the psychotronic talking box<br />the mainstream ninety-two percent<br />the laughing dying culture pop<br />the point of view the bleeding heart<br />the easily digested hurt<br />the famous moldy party hop<br />a fantasy the way it could<br />the shaping things a prostitute<br />a naked mix a magazine<br />a picture of us in a dream<br /><br />ultra/ULTRA get me in there<br />ultra/ULTRA get me outp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1137624122020297042006-01-18T14:42:00.000-08:002006-01-18T14:42:02.073-08:00TonightTONIGHT<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">by tink (tinkerbell.sarah)<br /></span><br />there's a peculiar taste to the air tonight<br />an un-tasteable flavour, defying it's pigeon hole<br />a heat flash of a tingle<br />tha crawls slowly from the back of your jaw<br />it's not quite pleasant<br />but not altogether awful<br />and holds you with<br />the twisted interest level<br />of a bad accident you drive past<br />with deliberately exaggerated caution<br />and cannot<br />will not<br />look away<br /><br />there's a lurking demon in my closet tonight<br />and the crack in the door seems very far away<br />to close or not to close it, that is the question<br />whether t'is nobler in the mind's eye to suffer<br />or a smarter bet to go to sleep<br />with my head under my pillow<br />and forget that I remember<br />the demon's name<br />and that<br />his number is still written down<br />somewhere<br /><br />there's an undercurrent of hope tonight<br />and it's sweeping my feet from under me<br />but it flows so slowly that i can't feel<br />the sand that I've built my life on<br />between my toes<br />as it moves invisible<br />back into the sea<br />from whence it came<br /><br />there's a murmur of waves in the wind tonight<br />and it envelopes me with a maternal kiss<br />to the forehead<br />wishiing me angels on my pillow<br />and the promise of a new day<br />a new day in which<br />i can choose to shine<br />Or hide in the storm clouds<br />no matter the actual weather<br /><br />There's a quiet amusement that's improvng tonight<br />and finding all of the long hidden ticklish spots<br />the laughter isn't quite as boisterous as it once was<br />but the emotion is twice as strong<br />and more than real<br />i think that i might<br />for once<br />get some sleep<br />tonightp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1137172582780840712006-01-13T09:16:00.000-08:002006-01-13T09:16:22.830-08:00Handy DandyHandy dandy, controversy surrounds him<br />He been around the world and back again<br />Something in the moonlight still hounds him<br />Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy<br /><br />Handy dandy, if every bone in his body was broken he would never admit it<br />He got an all girl orchestra and when he says<br />'Strike up the band', they hit it<br />Handy dandy, handy dandy<br /><br />You say, 'What are ya made of?'<br />He says, 'Can you repeat what you said?'<br />You'll say, 'What are you afraid of?'<br />He'll say, 'Nothin' neither 'live nor dead.'<br /><br />Handy dandy, he got a stick in his hand and a pocket full of money<br />He says, 'Darling, tell me the truth, how much time I got?'<br />She says, 'You got all the time in the world, honey.'<br />Handy dandy, Handy dandy<br /><br />He's got that clear crystal fountain<br />He's got that soft silky skin<br />He's got that fortress on the mountain<br />With no doors, no windows, no thieves can break in<br /><br />Handy dandy, sitting with a girl named Nancy in a garden feelin' kind of lazy<br />He says, 'Ya want a gun? I'll give you one.' She says, 'Boy, you talking crazy.'<br />Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy<br />Handy dandy, pour him another brandy<br /><br />Handy dandy, he got a basket of flowers and a bag full of sorrow<br />He finishes his drink, he gets up from the table he says,<br />'Okay, boys, I'll see you tomorrow.'<br />Handy dandy, handy dandy, just like sugar and candy<br />Handy dandy, just like sugar and candy<br /><br />Bob Dylan 1990p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1124317818926360642005-08-17T15:30:00.000-07:002005-08-17T15:30:18.930-07:00I, Anonymous<em>prose poem</em>
<br />
<br />To all the guys who come into the porn shop and hit on the surprisingly young cute girl working behind the counter: Fucking stop it. For eight hours a day, I sit in a room of T&A watching myself progressively lose more and more of whatever it was I liked about porn in the first place. On top of that, I have to deal with the scum of Portland, who, one after another, ask me for a date, phone number, blowjob, WHATEVER. I'm tired of putting up with you people. For godsakes, I have the only pair of clothed tits in the entire room, yet they're all you can seem to stare at. The only 'services' I provide are giving you change so you can jack off in the arcade, and if you were smart, you'd put some of that change in the tip jar. Now eat me. --Anonymousp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1124316462702304282005-08-17T15:07:00.000-07:002005-08-17T15:33:04.696-07:003 part play on mosquitosedge-of-the-world: "it's a maelstrom of mosquitoes up hee-yah in Maine, ayuh"<br /><br />survivalist: "I remember Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes (and 100,000 swamps). But one of the good things about the chronic Ozark summer dry spells... no skeeters. Altho- I'm waitin on rain today; I'll havta irrigate if it dont.<br /><br />Mr. Hardenburg the NERD: its been a real slow year here for skeeters too. not many flies either. except in my apartment, of course. ... going to take the freakin garbage out ...p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1123973064022910142005-08-13T15:43:00.000-07:002005-08-13T15:44:24.026-07:00untitledplace your hand over mine thrice<br />and meet with me after this life.<br /><br />can you translate that into latin?p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1122964584879355592005-08-01T23:36:00.000-07:002005-08-01T23:36:24.896-07:00Last Night I Went Walking ...<em>by the Handsome Family</em>
<br />
<br />last night I went out walking
<br />out on the edge of town
<br />not going no place special
<br />only wandering around
<br />
<br />I came upon a river
<br />I thought about what you said
<br />and couldn't stop it flowing
<br />and running through my headp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1121721719437928482005-07-18T14:21:00.000-07:002005-07-18T14:21:59.466-07:00Halfway to a Threeway<em>by Jim O'Rourke</em>
<br />
<br />Now with you, I've got one
<br />If I could get just one more
<br />Then you'd know what you're in for
<br />You ain't getting any sleep tonight
<br />I hope that you girls don't fight
<br />And I hope that you don't run away
<br />Cause I'm halfway to a threeway
<br />
<br />I tried again and again
<br />To indulge in just one sin
<br />All you have to do is lie there
<br />While I push aside your wheelchair
<br />And I'd do anything it takes
<br />To change your mind and then lock your brakes
<br />So I know that you can't roll away
<br />Cause I'm halfway to a threeway
<br />
<br />Can't wipe the smile off my face
<br />When you strut by in your leg brace
<br />You can't just climb the stairs
<br />And you ain't got any hair
<br />I just can't get you to sit
<br />You and your stupid epileptic fits
<br />And I know that you can't run away
<br />Cause I'm halfway to a three way
<br />
<br />(pretty guitar solo)
<br />
<br />As I lay you down on my bed
<br />It don't matter that you're brain dead
<br />I can get so close to you
<br />Now that you're in a coma
<br />I'll make it sweet for sure
<br />When I pull on your life support
<br />And I know that you just fade away
<br />And I'm halfway to a threeway
<br />
<br />Jim O'Rourke, Halfway to a Threeway
<br />
<br /><a href="http://www2.thewire.co.uk/mp3/halfway.mp3">http://www2.thewire.co.uk/mp3/halfway.mp3</a>p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1117399316272727152005-05-29T13:41:00.000-07:002005-05-29T13:41:56.286-07:00A Woman's Poem<em>by unknown
<br />c. 2005</em>
<br />
<br />He didn't like the casserole
<br />And he didn't like my cake.
<br />My biscuits were too hard...
<br />Not like his mother used to make.
<br />I didn't perk the coffee right
<br />He didn't like the stew,
<br />I didn't mend his socks
<br />The way his mother used to do.
<br />I pondered for an answer
<br />I was looking for a clue.
<br />Then I turned around and smacked him...
<br />Like his Mother used to do.p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116144973275043662005-05-15T01:15:00.000-07:002005-05-15T01:16:13.280-07:00Justice Day<span style="font-style:italic;">by Jim</span><br /> <br />You're the boot.<br />Stomping on the human face forever.<br />You're the eye.<br />Staring down on everyone and ever seeing all.<br />You're the lie.<br />Twisting all our minds into your whoredom.<br /> <br />You are Death.<br />You are war.<br />You are slavery.<br />You're the law.<br />You're the law.<br />You're the law!<br /> <br />When laws spew like vomit from power-drunk tongues<br />And freedom's a lie that the old tell the young<br />Then out of the darkness,<br />The rebels arise<br />And on that day the Outlaw, the Outlaw will ride.<br /> <br />When spies and lies choke out the spirit of life<br />And authority scrapes like a rusted dull knife<br />Then out of despair<br />The heros will soar.<br />On that day the Outlaw, the Outlaw is born.<br /> <br />When "for your own good" is a lock and a chain<br />And "security's” used to enslave hearts and brains<br />Then out of our bondage<br />Rebellion will fly.<br />On that day, the Outlaw, the Outlaw will ride.<br /> <br />(Chorus)<br />Breakdown, breakdown.<br />Fire in the mind.<br />Freedom on the firing line.<br /> <br />When criminals, criminals make all the laws<br />Then anyone breaking them fights a just cause.<br />So don't obey leaders<br />And don't follow rules<br />And the Outlaws, the Outlaws are saviors, not fools.<br /> <br />So crush their damned spycams, rip open your cage<br />Let liberty loose with a howl of wild rage<br />Each tyrant you smash<br />Is a freedom you've won<br />And the Outlaws -- we Outlaws – put power on the run.<br /> <br />(Repeat chorus to fadeout)<br /> <br />----------------------------------------------------------<br /> <br />i'm old. they are trying to put me in prison for the rest of my life. it's up to you young guys, as it always has been. what the fuck happened to people having some balls in this country?p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116016529055288322005-05-13T13:31:00.000-07:002005-05-14T04:12:51.156-07:00nikhil parekhthis is linked to Nikhil Parekh the internet poet. here are two selected stanzas from the site:<br /><br />A true doctor is the one who never forgets to treat<br />people suffering from bizarre affliction beside him;<br />applies the ointment of his love on several bruises<br />oozing blood and pain; even in times when the same<br />patients he had treated before were planning to kill<br />him; poison the milk he gulped for morning breakfast,<br /><br />A true ocean is the one who never forgets its colossal<br />waters; the gigantically swirling waves it generated<br />since times immemorial; even in times when its body<br />shrunk to a mere trickle; the tyranny of pugnacious<br />heat had sucked its frothy spray away,p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015759685290592005-05-13T13:22:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:22:39.690-07:00Wilde Derivations<span style="font-style:italic;">by Andy</span><br />Hooray for Randall,<br />The poesie vandall,<br />More gay than glad,<br />And passing sad,<br />His poetry is so fucking awful that it makes mine look not-half-bad!p0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015322347296302005-05-13T13:15:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:15:22.346-07:00MY ASSLOVE FOR VERA<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />my asslove for vera grows and grows<br />but she wont take the dick in that particular hole<br />i beg and i plead and i offer my love<br />i promise the dick will fit like a glove<br />"just in the pussy! and just in the mouth!"<br />"otherwise youre an unforgivable louse."<br />"ass is for shitting not for the fuck!"<br />with my romanian girlfriend, im shit out of luckp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015290198889962005-05-13T13:14:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:14:50.200-07:00THE CONQUEST OF ROMANIA<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />to attack and crusade is henceforth my goal<br />the conquest of romania, no matter the toll<br />to attack and crusade and capture my girl<br />the prettiest gypsy in all the world<br />she i will conquer and she i will best<br />then she will love me more than the rest<br />to make her my girl to love and obey<br />all of romania will fall one dayp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015255512250272005-05-13T13:13:00.001-07:002005-05-13T13:14:15.513-07:00HOW I WILL FUCK VERA WHEN SHE WILL COME TO AMERICA AND BE MY GIRL<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />how to fuck vera, that's the thing<br />to take her in my arms and give her a ring<br />and make her my girl with a smile on her face<br />and perform sexual acts that would bring her disgrace<br />to fuck and to suck and to kiss and to hug<br />to be the only american she ever dug<br />to fill her pussie with love and spermatazoa<br />for all this and more, to romania i will go-ap0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015224816959372005-05-13T13:13:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:13:44.816-07:00PUSSIE CAT PUSSIE CAT VERA B.<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />pussie cat pussie cat, vera b.<br />come to america, here with me<br />to kiss and to hug and to be vmann's girl<br />forget all the nonsense in the communist world<br />embrace the american way of life<br />free yourself from all that romanian strife<br />so come to america and take many dicks<br />and give american pussies plenty of licks<br />you can be my girlfriend and ill be your man<br />ill make you forget about the globalist planp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015193204057982005-05-13T13:12:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:13:13.206-07:00THE ROMANIAN SQUEEZE BOX<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />my romanian girlfriend tried and true<br />taking the dick is something she would never do<br />to fuck and to suck is not her bag<br />unless the dick belongs to a fag<br />she loves the impotents of milano and bucharest<br />but those with erections she always detests<br />to not take the dick is her lifelong goal<br />but i swear i will have her with my american flag polep0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12877756.post-1116015161047367302005-05-13T13:10:00.000-07:002005-05-13T13:12:41.050-07:00MY ROMANIAN PUSSIE CAT<span style="font-style:italic;">by vigilius haufniensis</span><br />romanian pussie cat vera b.<br />in my arms is where she should be<br />to sit on me lap and envelop my dick<br />to hold me tight and kiss on the lipsp0rn st0rmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10573410824796695047noreply@blogger.com0