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Poems; smock and rock
Topic Started: Apr 8 2006, 09:58 PM (276 Views)
Metal _Mister_Crayola
Member Avatar
I am Mister Pat (Patrica) Crayola
This is a very dramatic poem I wrote. It will probably send you a powerful theme if you understand the language. its basically about a man hallucinating a woman that's very beautiful but isn't there. her beauty that he can't have represents his conscience punishing him for adultry.

HELLO, BIGOT!
Last night in the twilight,
Walking home smelling of cigarettes and rum,
I came upon the umbra of a gorgeous creature in the night,
The sort of sight so enchanting may seem like an erotic hallucination to some
For my heart wanted to woo her and my arms wanted to embrace her,
But my feet were stubborn and were planted firm upon the pavement.
If I wasn’t fantasizing, I may as well have approached the goddamn creature,
To scrutinize this insolent hag who bestowed upon me such lament.
If I was as bold to scorn my violent palpitations, I might have taken her in my clutches,
From then the instinct of my bittersweet heart would solve my merciless dilemma,
If my senses do not betray me, what am I supposed to make of this demonic duchess?
Is she an ally of my conscience or is she a déjà vu of my life’s miserable saga?
If I pursuit another covet, will it be another failed endeavor?
Am I paranoid or have I learned a lesson?
I am bewildered by passions and temptations, will I be a martyr
Or will I be a futile heresy for love’s labors lost that I am unwilling to confess
There was perplexity and furtive lust behind my unwillingness to commit
Is this an allusion to my conscience or an unfortunate coincidence?
This woman is a prophecy of perpetual despair, anguish harvested beneath her tit
Am I to dream all my life who flirts with me only within my conscience?
Is it unorthodox that I vision my fantastic façade only because I’m malevolent?
She dances in the moonlight to the sound of her weeping, like an ecstatic symphony.
Her skin glowed with a radiant luster and eyes so very poignant.
The irony: I could see but not touch, just like watching pornography.
So my next endeavor was to speak, but I was inaudible by the jinx
It felt like a nightmare and I felt like my heart was perforated
Then out of the blue she whispered stone-cold words from her tender larynx,
Words that penetrated me inside, you could say I was self-consciously wounded
(Hello, bigot)
I came across the rendezvous, because she represented my darkness
All the pain I cause was brought by this pitiless vagabond
She interrogates my pompous spirit, antagonizes me conscience
I cannot deplore my own fancies, so I retreated to quickly abscond
I long to discover the imperial beauty
I yearn to reach this mystery maiden
Seeing her in my bed and every public alley
Saying that men are deceivers seems to be her sermon
Last night I met the wandering spiteful siren
Tonight I plan to tame her by announcing I have learned my lesson.
cray: 100, aliens: 0
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Bulbasaur
splooge_happycat.gif
Metal _Mister_Crayola,Apr 13 2006
07:42 PM
This is a very dramatic poem I wrote. It will probably send you a powerful theme if you understand the language. its basically about a man hallucinating a woman that's very beautiful but isn't there. her beauty that he can't have represents his conscience punishing him for adultry.

HELLO, BIGOT!
Last night in the twilight,
Walking home smelling of cigarettes and rum,
I came upon the umbra of a gorgeous creature in the night,
The sort of sight so enchanting may seem like an erotic hallucination to some
For my heart wanted to woo her and my arms wanted to embrace her,
But my feet were stubborn and were planted firm upon the pavement.
If I wasn’t fantasizing, I may as well have approached the goddamn creature,
To scrutinize this insolent hag who bestowed upon me such lament.
If I was as bold to scorn my violent palpitations, I might have taken her in my clutches,
From then the instinct of my bittersweet heart would solve my merciless dilemma,
If my senses do not betray me, what am I supposed to make of this demonic duchess?
Is she an ally of my conscience or is she a déjà vu of my life’s miserable saga?
If I pursuit another covet, will it be another failed endeavor?
Am I paranoid or have I learned a lesson?
I am bewildered by passions and temptations, will I be a martyr
Or will I be a futile heresy for love’s labors lost that I am unwilling to confess
There was perplexity and furtive lust behind my unwillingness to commit
Is this an allusion to my conscience or an unfortunate coincidence?
This woman is a prophecy of perpetual despair, anguish harvested beneath her tit
Am I to dream all my life who flirts with me only within my conscience?
Is it unorthodox that I vision my fantastic façade only because I’m malevolent?
She dances in the moonlight to the sound of her weeping, like an ecstatic symphony.
Her skin glowed with a radiant luster and eyes so very poignant.
The irony: I could see but not touch, just like watching pornography.
So my next endeavor was to speak, but I was inaudible by the jinx
It felt like a nightmare and I felt like my heart was perforated
Then out of the blue she whispered stone-cold words from her tender larynx,
Words that penetrated me inside, you could say I was self-consciously wounded
(Hello, bigot)
I came across the rendezvous, because she represented my darkness
All the pain I cause was brought by this pitiless vagabond
She interrogates my pompous spirit, antagonizes me conscience
I cannot deplore my own fancies, so I retreated to quickly abscond
I long to discover the imperial beauty
I yearn to reach this mystery maiden
Seeing her in my bed and every public alley
Saying that men are deceivers seems to be her sermon
Last night I met the wandering spiteful siren
Tonight I plan to tame her by announcing I have learned my lesson.

Posted Image
Posted ImagePom pom says that shit is too long!
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Metal _Mister_Crayola
Member Avatar
I am Mister Pat (Patrica) Crayola
Bulbasaur,Apr 13 2006
08:52 PM
Metal _Mister_Crayola,Apr 13 2006
07:42 PM
This is a very dramatic poem I wrote. It will probably send you a powerful theme if you understand the language. its basically about a man hallucinating a woman that's very beautiful but isn't there. her beauty that he can't have represents his conscience punishing him for adultry.

HELLO, BIGOT!
Last night in the twilight,
Walking home smelling of cigarettes and rum,
I came upon the umbra of a gorgeous creature in the night,
The sort of sight so enchanting may seem like an erotic hallucination to some
For my heart wanted to woo her and my arms wanted to embrace her,
But my feet were stubborn and were planted firm upon the pavement.
If I wasn’t fantasizing, I may as well have approached the goddamn creature,
To scrutinize this insolent hag who bestowed upon me such lament.
If I was as bold to scorn my violent palpitations, I might have taken her in my clutches,
From then the instinct of my bittersweet heart would solve my merciless dilemma,
If my senses do not betray me, what am I supposed to make of this demonic duchess?
Is she an ally of my conscience or is she a déjà vu of my life’s miserable saga?
If I pursuit another covet, will it be another failed endeavor?
Am I paranoid or have I learned a lesson?
I am bewildered by passions and temptations, will I be a martyr
Or will I be a futile heresy for love’s labors lost that I am unwilling to confess
There was perplexity and furtive lust behind my unwillingness to commit
Is this an allusion to my conscience or an unfortunate coincidence?
This woman is a prophecy of perpetual despair, anguish harvested beneath her tit
Am I to dream all my life who flirts with me only within my conscience?
Is it unorthodox that I vision my fantastic façade only because I’m malevolent?
She dances in the moonlight to the sound of her weeping, like an ecstatic symphony.
Her skin glowed with a radiant luster and eyes so very poignant.
The irony: I could see but not touch, just like watching pornography.
So my next endeavor was to speak, but I was inaudible by the jinx
It felt like a nightmare and I felt like my heart was perforated
Then out of the blue she whispered stone-cold words from her tender larynx,
Words that penetrated me inside, you could say I was self-consciously wounded
(Hello, bigot)
I came across the rendezvous, because she represented my darkness
All the pain I cause was brought by this pitiless vagabond
She interrogates my pompous spirit, antagonizes me conscience
I cannot deplore my own fancies, so I retreated to quickly abscond
I long to discover the imperial beauty
I yearn to reach this mystery maiden
Seeing her in my bed and every public alley
Saying that men are deceivers seems to be her sermon
Last night I met the wandering spiteful siren
Tonight I plan to tame her by announcing I have learned my lesson.

Posted Image
Posted ImagePom pom says that shit is too long!

there once was a bulbasaur
who we used to call neal
but one day he pushed me way too far; for
now he lays in a hospital and he thinks that he is a seal!
cray: 100, aliens: 0
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