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Poet Trees
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Submitted by bare_elf on Sat, 2014-05-31 18:39
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A forest of nonsense
See, see the Short sky
Marvel at its big yellow depths.
Tell me, Jenni do you
Wonder why the pug ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel fuzzy.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your varvel facial growth
That looks like
A moldy cheese.
What's more, it knows
Your potty potting shed
Smells of frog.
Everything under the big Short sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm dung. |
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Comments
Spike Milligan wrote:
A Silly Poem
Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?
It is a night of ethereal pain, a song of sorrow,
wolves vent their cry. The beautiful one
stirs.
Evil shrouds her walking form,
an everlasting wrath.
Her raven hair cascades over
pale and tragic shoulders, and her
full red lips part slightly, to taste the
blood streaming from the
pale flesh beneath
her.
Now a night of new awareness,
I hunger.