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rumisong

Sentences that make no sense!

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

i write sense out of nonsense. i see darkness. it is my new light. i see everything in the dark. the light is where one cannot see. the darkness blinds me and the light covers me with nothing but its coolness soothes me. lol


Larsen M. Callirhoe

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rumisong
i write sense out of nonsense. i see darkness. it is my new light. i see everything in the dark. the light is where one cannot see. the darkness blinds me and the light covers me with nothing but its coolness soothes me. lol

 

wow, I missed this one... this is awesome Vic- I would versitize it and say its a poem!

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rumisong

made a hefty sandwich t'other day - the plastic fillings were too much for my eyebrows to just brush off - when will these granules pour? and who will pay for them? once the flavor is determined to be nothing but salt! heave ho- they want so much... cryogenic certainties have made their way out of the sauce- now they fill the pot with replies they were not in want of... and tree top truths are left in the trailer, unedited credits fall to the bottom of this screen...

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rumisong

rumisong wrote:

...

 

made a hefty sandwich t'other day

the plastic fillings were just too much

for my eyebrows to brush off-

so, just when will these granules pour?

and who is going to want

to pay for them? once their flavor

has been determined-

nothing but salt!

heave ho- they want so much

 

cryogenic certainties making their way

out of the sauce, now filling the pot with

replies they were not in want of

 

tree top truths left in the trailer

and my unedited credits falling

to the bottom of the screen

 

the show is not over

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rumisong
pithment discerned

in grivolous fright

grumplets be burned

and friers alight

to hold hungers fraught

so near dungeon's bowel

these lessenings taught

hath loosened the vowel

glib beckonings crave

an easement's descent

for what we once sought

behaves as lament

give ho, and give ho

let us raze in a'scorn

we mustn't let go

this bedeviled old horn

beloved as a chariot

leaves window's light

harken oh plithious

desirous enflight

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rumisong

spankings are not going to green the already perpendicular spaces between knotted pluralism and Frankish columns across the platonic meridian

 

(this post is due to the resolve to write SOMETHING/ANYthing on a computer reboot ;))

Edited by rumisong

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rumisong

Crinkley crutzels would cry out for cream

had not the stroovens gone into the stream

and hivvers and haxes hasten to haul

what pillars and plinkers put bedding to pall

have none to need nor nedder of naught

let living deleaders sling't all their lawt

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Aleksandra

I wrote with my finger on my fingerless hand from bellow the desk in the empty room without a house. I will look at you all beautiful and charming hidden covered with mud and trash from the sky. I would hug the snow black and thirsty just to satisfy my hunger for blood.

I am nobody who I know and you are someone who I don't know, when you buh-bye to me, I wonder, if the bulb was working in your basement on the third floor.

 

Stop writing now, with elbow of your foot. I am sick reading this scrap that comes from the south bellow the south pole.

A bear - eating rats and dancing with the one who has money in the knee-pocket of his swim-suit.

 

Bla-bla --- blabing


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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rumisong

I wrote with my finger

on my fingerless hand

from bellow

the desk in the

empty room

without a house. I will look

at you

all beautiful and charming

hidden covered

with mud and trash from

the sky.

I would hug the snow black

and thirsty just

to satisfy

my hunger for blood.

 

thats some really deep Draculian stuff going on there, mistress-of-macedonia

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tonyv

Love Time/Social Time

 

I don't care what the rats digest in Poland,

nor how they dance the disco in Nepal.

She casts a shadow bigger than Rhode Island

when waiting for that susage stuffer's call.

 

She told me that it's hard to let him go;

he's freshened up and shaves it like a pro.


Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Aleksandra

Tony, this is more ridiculous than mine lol.

 

:D


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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rumisong

if you as meal ink a line of feel

then me as cruel link a pride of tool

 

if you as north drug a verb of fourth

then me as singe hug a tier of hinge

 

if you as sigh form a queue of pie

then me as wane torn a lyre of sane

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rumisong

Its about carnal feet in disguise that we have plundant figs for our celebranitions- were not for squiggs and flornings, our hemp would drink its own christening.

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dedalus

Can I nominate Sarah Palin?


Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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waxwings

Here is the first stanza of a poem I started a while ago and have not finished. It is written in pseodo-English. If you can decypher it (and you should be able to) let me know. The key is that the syntax is that of simple, everyday speech.

 

Kindre groupe ung brachy

upsing ap min glasson

nod vies maspeck

hos gamed duomas.

 

Hey, guys. I am almost clined to spek theses makum more sensity than voter pomses. :icon_cyclops: :mellow:

Edited by waxwings

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waxwings
I wrote with my finger on my fingerless hand from bellow the desk in the empty room without a house. I will look at you all beautiful and charming hidden covered with mud and trash from the sky. I would hug the snow black and thirsty just to satisfy my hunger for blood.

I am nobody who I know and you are someone who I don't know, when you buh-bye to me, I wonder, if the bulb was working in your basement on the third floor.

 

Stop writing now, with elbow of your foot. I am sick reading this scrap that comes from the south bellow the south pole.

A bear - eating rats and dancing with the one who has money in the knee-pocket of his swim-suit.

 

Bla-bla --- blabing

 

This couldly veryous swelyl the syntactically upsiest versination you has crayonned and has tangirible content aswell.

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Aleksandra

While the stone was building a house, I escaped from a house to build a paradise. I locked the door, and I stayed out alone with the cold stone, that has a heart from a clay. I used the stars that are mine, to form the heart in a heart, but the one is just the same - a stone. It was a dry day to cook on wood, I am afraid my house would burn again. I asked some water, but nothing. The one said: here is some wood...Well, I don't need that, so I mix it with tears, to make a dough for HIS heart. Still nothing, he turned in a magic, flying with the clay. I talk and talk, ramble and ramble, eating words on streets, eating sand with my leaves, walking with my ears... All messed up. Stone... stone...stone. Warm as the stone is. Nice to meet u, the dawn said... Well good night, morning. It's time me to dark my light. Well... Stone Stone, I love stones, to break my head, then maybe the cat will be some bird.


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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abstract

intangible masterpieces groink to the laves of calendar.

Twelve muses excuse blue safety goes

black then white left than right.

"Swimmerring seamstresses," he catapulted.

"Markedly radiated forward the joining room,

There's no time fumerary." There's water bloom.

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