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 Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2009 10:31 am
I think I'll share with you guys what I do when I'm in class. Feel free to make your on spots (well, I have no athority to say), because I'll read it..unless it's small, RP fonts..
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Posted: Tue Jan 27, 2009 4:27 pm
You guys want to read my table scraps? Good! here's some.
"When I was a young man (younger then I am ow), I know a woman. Now, she wasn't just any old woman, she was special.
I felt, that whenever she walked across her porch garden, the flowers would simply bow in her grace or so it seemed. I was impressionable, to say the least..."
" I wish I were more John Wayne
and less Morissey
being gruff, being bold
our story would never be told
but I held back
and she could run fast
so I said my goodbye's to the tall green grass
as all of it withered
and all my tears have wilted
like the leaves on our tree"
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 9:07 am
NicGuy Now, she wasn't just any old woman, she was special. I felt, that whenever she walked across her porch garden, the flowers would simply bow in her grace or so it seemed. I was impressionable, to say the least..."
It's kind of unpolished, but whatever.
I really liked the last part, it makes me think of a stream of childhood memories, and I like how the tree was described.
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 10:08 am
That is weird. Similar minds think alike? here's some more unpolished hootinany.
wonder if i could pick up the pace
wandering,waiting 'til the deadline
my eyes-they can't settle on one thing
so I'd much rather write then sing
***
Pick up the peices
to a broken song
your a cliche
to tired to be sung
the world i stay in may be redundant
but it could never be as repugnant
as the life you live
***
bleet bleet bleet
follow the rules like a
Sheep sheep sheep
though the words they speak are all
cheap cheap cheap
I can't afford my own originality
not enough time for
individuality
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 7:42 pm
Indeed. In-deed.
I really like those, especially the third one.
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 8:11 pm
I think they're silly, but that's what I get for writing in between lectures.
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2009 6:35 am
XD I have this ingrained adoration for silly, though.
I can never keep my notes straight--I've got pictures and scribbled poems all over them. XD
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2009 9:45 am
Same here, my Native American stripper friend?
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Sat Jan 31, 2009 2:06 am
Bow chika wow wow. Oo
XD [/spamming]
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2009 6:41 am
Might come up with something today. It's gonna be slow, I just KNOW it.
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2009 5:58 am
I just got some Shel Silverstein! You guys want me to type some poems out?
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2009 6:31 am
XD Go for it! It's been such a long time since I've read him, I don't even remember any specific poem. Oh wait, there was that tub one that disturbed me. But generally I don't remember them. XD
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2009 1:47 pm
Here are some of his works from a light in the attic. I'll put some from where the sidewalk ends when I finish reading the books. All cred goes to him of course.
"Longmobile"
It's the world's longest car, I swear,
It reaches from Beale Street to Washington Square.
And once you get in it
To go where your going,
You simply get out, 'cause your already there.
"Crowded Tub"
There's too many kids in this tub.
There's too many elbows to scrub.
I just washed a behind,
That I'm sure wasn't mine,
There's too many kids in this tub.
"Strange Wind"
What a strange wind it was today,
Whistlin' and whirlin' and scurlin' away
Like a worried old woman with so much to say.
What a strange wind it was today.
What a strange wind it was today,
Cool and clear from sky so grey
And my hat stayed on but my head blew away-
What a strange wind it was today.
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Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2009 8:47 am
That tub one seriously emotionally scarred me as a child. XD
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Phantasm of the Orchestra
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 9:54 am
working hard for no good
the pain is similar to the rock in your sole
you weigh in your problems
like they were boulders
but yelling and complaining
is no way to cleanse the soul.
nipping at your head like blizzard of flies
turn to your books-burn them to cinders
the ashes that remain is all you need
your memories are what keep you breathing
and remind you that you can bleed
like the ink in your veins
you travel too slowly to conquer your own reigns.
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