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Index »
Music »
Whatever »
Poetry Slam!
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Page: 1, 2 Next |
Proclivities
Location: Paris of the Piedmont Gender:
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Posted:
Feb 23, 2022 - 5:37am |
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O proud left foot, that ventures quick within
Then soon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke.
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from heavenâs yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke â banish now, thy doubt
Verily, I say, âtis what itâs all about
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jul 17, 2021 - 3:02pm |
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manbirdexperiment wrote:
motion
mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo
mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo
mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo
mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo? mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo mo
- motion ——————————————————-
loco, baby...like perpetual...
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Manbird
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender:
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Posted:
Jul 16, 2021 - 2:57pm |
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The maggot The worm The wasp The ant The fly The birth The clot The plug The polk The sweltering scent of yeast The knuckle The neck The numb beast The dumb mackerel child The tears The shy odors The awful smile The hidden milk The small headed one The young body The untouched The plum The shingles that swing The buttery kidneys The blistered thumb The punctured wing The red iodine The soft swollen lips The gapers The pigs The tallowed wicks The whispering axe The women The cattle The shattered hoofs The digging fists The midnight AM radio The weeping clown The nut brown dentures at bedside The whiskey drinkers The fleshy experiments The kirlian photographs The exposure meter The reverse speech The unwanted response The head blow The shame The smell of fixer beneath the red light The salt The slit The sting The stain in the snow that crusted and dried The rise of the poet The slick floe of ice The fuel The words The passion The early sky The taste of wood The opium honey The sweet baguette The prize The disguise The bruise The liquid heart The self penetration The black capsules The journey The urine drinker The hissing asphalt The powdered gums The hardened yellow finger The wrinkled odor The beautiful people The wonderful glass The empty cafeteria The jazz The dying aunt The obese man The cell The sheet The loop The creep The exhausted river The dark fire The kneeling The squeezing The sand in the throat The cherry sticks The saliva glands The moon The rusted hooks The salmon eggs The pushed up grin The lure of the spoon The suffering The infection The half eaten spine The animal teeth The disappearance The elongated titties The puckering trout The vodka The gin The spit The hammer's pulp The shotgunned crap The shovel The dunes The fatigue The belt The staggering horse The needles The twitch The beating The examination The stumbling speech The doctor with strange butterfly hands The empty glass The pump The sugar The starch The steel The copper The brass The white refined metals The smoke in the night The high windows The face in the light The battle The knot The burning sound The entity in window 5 The walking yard The clipboard The organ taster The milking chin The yawning rabbit The stranger's kiss The holy slap of the fuckery hand The orange regret The friable eyes The dark dying sunset The confession The sickened The virus The veins The thick dull crush The green velvet The desiccated brow The surge forward The accident The pity The chemical drain The truth The failure The flush The strangled root The matted flesh The dangling nub The centrifuge The ridiculous pain The range The clef The natural The bow The slur The air-bent notes The painted music The buried harp The drummer's fish tone clap The poetry books The flat pewter cross The cleaving asunder of us all The stones The feathers The pieces of bone in the fingernail jar The tangled vine The Cuban cigars The tremolo neck The red maple cello The swatch of grey hair The old sea-crane The letters from home The suitcase of green cotton lime The oven The loaf The ink The full cup of coffee The dead starling The long twisted candles The waste The despair The shivering webs The slow stir of air
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Manbird
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender:
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Posted:
Jun 4, 2020 - 8:51am |
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Red Birds Bleeding
My wrists were
Once red birds
I flew away
The red birds died
My wrists I bound
In cotton sheets
And baling twine
I flew away
The red birds died
My lips were black
Like ravens eating
Quietly feeding
The night flew down
And ate their wings
The ravens coughed
My charcoal lips
Were speaking
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Isabeau
Location: sou' tex Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 12, 2013 - 4:51pm |
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Lazarus wrote:Counting The Years by Kofi Awoonor (1935-2013) As usual, as in the earlier dreams I came to the whistling shores the voice of the high-domed crab stilled but a chorus remains of the water creatures of earlier times, of the birth time and the dying time, the pity, when we resurrect the travellers the anchorman on our singular boat that will take us home Oh, yes.
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ScottN
Location: Half inch above the K/T boundary Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 12, 2013 - 12:52pm |
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Lazarus wrote:Counting The Years by Kofi Awoonor (1935-2013) As usual, as in the earlier dreams I came to the whistling shores the voice of the high-domed crab stilled but a chorus remains of the water creatures of earlier times, of the birth time and the dying time, the pity, when we resurrect the travellers the anchorman on our singular boat that will take us home.
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Lazarus
Location: Bethany Gender:
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Posted:
Oct 11, 2013 - 8:34pm |
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Counting The Years by Kofi Awoonor (1935-2013) As usual, as in the earlier dreams I came to the whistling shores the voice of the high-domed crab stilled but a chorus remains of the water creatures of earlier times, of the birth time and the dying time, the pity, when we resurrect the travellers the anchorman on our singular boat that will take us home
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Manbird
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender:
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Posted:
Mar 10, 2013 - 4:17pm |
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And I feel now, write a poem, a great love poem that reaches all transparent, opaque or dark hearts... A second! Better, one minute!... Contextualizing! Preparing! And ready... Already!... Impossible find him!
Because I feel writing it and already I'm equal to not reach all the hearts, because already I do not speak of a vital organ, but rather the feelings that are housed in an area of our brain... And some lack of it! And I do not say the statistics of the scientists say... Contextualizing! Preparing! A second! No!, two or three! Better, one minute! Impossible!
Impossible write to you, strangers, a love poem! Impossible to reach all the different "sentimental" minds!
But the craving is superior, and true!, is mine!... So I am sorry: I don't think you, not angry! Only me escrudrinare to spit warm words, for some; children, for others; but for the vast majority, they will be strange?
Strange love poem Me dive as usual, plugging my nose... And among all the networks you find you!
And you are very, very simple and complicated at the same time, because words do not exist for the eyes that do not see you.
But I'm looking for and rebusco inside!, and here! and I only find you...
There are no more than you! Which I held outdoors, as a beam of light.
And it is that you thou which me balance between harsh lands, with your wide tulle.
And is that you alone, are eternal passion of life without pain... and therefore, wandering sweet and vibrant, full inside me!
And is that you just give me the boost always impetuous, and out: the 'I'.
And it is that single, called heart, thou art not more than me... With imagination, you will come out of your background while the merger will take place... For drawing the creation of forms of love.
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(former member)
Location: hotel in Las Vegas Gender:
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Posted:
Jul 5, 2012 - 9:04pm |
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As wise business people say, just follow the Monet... The Rose-Way in Giverny by Virginia Konchan
And in the reticulate distance the cued inertia of Lucifer astounds. Our feet bleed: bouyant, the body at its task. What you wanted was what I wanted—slant of sun to the left, twinkling of civilization elsewise, and the moon (whelp of history) to our backs, all come-hither and dream. Motion understood is philosophy deferred: peace, the felt pathos of space and time. Look, darling, at the establishing shot. It's downright Biblical, this thrown-together vista, world upon world without end.
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(former member)
Location: hotel in Las Vegas Gender:
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Posted:
Jun 18, 2012 - 9:00pm |
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Sand Martins by Eamon Grennan
It lives in Europe, in winding holes in sheer sandy hills. —Linnaeus
On the eastern side of this sandy sea cliff (for September morning warmth and in the lee of prevailing westerlies) a family of sand martins fills salt air with their shrill chatter swooping on stretchwings over where a wide swath of their pueblo has fallen and left just a handful of nests like small sockets of darkness where they cling with shivering wings and quickened shriek then vanish into the mystery their silence leaves in its wake as they slip through chambering vacancies in the cliff face while catching their breath and readying their collective heart for the long autumn haul that will toss them all twitter-talk on auspicious gales south then south again to winter.
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Dec 18, 2009 - 5:15pm |
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Frog you buddy! Frog you and the slime you slid in on! I put a stink bug on your sticky tongue and I hope you smell it in your flowery brain And yet- Your egg...your tadpole...your warts as a result of frogdom make me laugh
and feel normal beside a toad
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:29pm |
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cookinlover wrote:
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cookinlover
Location: Auckland, New Zealand (former Boston native and Atlanta transplant) Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:29pm |
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cookinlover wrote:Some RPeeps post words of wit, others sling a lot of s***, but it`s okay, the point is moot, both types wear a Bozo suit, don`t take offense, if one fits you, `cause I`m including myself, too.
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:25pm |
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cookinlover wrote:Some RPeeps post words of wit, others sling a lot of s***, but it`s okay, the point is moot, both types wear a Bozo suit, don`t take offense, if one fits you, `cause I`m including myself, too.
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:17pm |
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Miles to go before we sleep...
Promises to keep...
Leap
Deep
Seep
Weep
Granted...disclaimers and waviers abound
pound
penny
Do I sound tinny?
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cookinlover
Location: Auckland, New Zealand (former Boston native and Atlanta transplant) Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:14pm |
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Some RPeeps post words of wit, others sling a lot of s***, but it`s okay, the point is moot, both types wear a Bozo suit, don`t take offense, if one fits you, `cause I`m including myself, too.
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Manbird
Location: La Villa Toscana Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 5:10pm |
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What The Angel Said we have no meal we have no shepherd in our field we have no wheel or steel we have no grace no place no abbey no cloister no shelter no peace no war we have no voice no psalm or requiem or mass or grace no anthem no aria no air we have no passion or power no effect no cause we have no town no tower no state we pledge no oath of loyalty we have no roof no floor no exit no welcome we have no gun no harp no children no name no relativity we leave no legacy we have no consistency no pattern no clarity we have no thought we have no fear we have no sin no guilt no joy we have no time we have no skin no earth no void no wind or heat or cloth no feet no headstone no history we have no X no 8 we write no poem we eat no grass we have no age no ghost no past we have no memory no weal no welt no scream no plea no late night apothecary we have no piss or shit or filth or pus we have no wing no flight no I ching we have no language we have no rage we have no heart no faith no unity no division we do not cross we do not stay we do not pray or be or die
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Red_Dragon
Location: Dumbf*ckistan
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 2:02pm |
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dionysius wrote:Definitions of the Word "Kaupmeesian" the word Kane was looking for when he said rosebud instead
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 1:59pm |
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Actually, there was this other thing I was thinking Something about being broke and rich and broken but whole and...yeah, it's pretty cold out but I had a hot lunch Oh, and I saw that video and read that poem and listened to that song... The one that you all sang... It moved me deep inside... I think we still have promise on tour- It'll be a trip...
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oldviolin
Location: esse quam videri Gender:
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Posted:
Jan 26, 2009 - 1:54pm |
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Today, here is all I have to say Have it your way At Burger King Home Of The Whopper Who knew?
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