
The Interactive Poetry Pages
Teen Salon - One
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Poem Number 1373
Why Puget Trousers is the king and you are all pathetic.
Commentary:
schooling upon 243 opptional, methodical mosque-input/current
powerful vaccination, analytically smitten neo-malthusian
practitioners must perish.
reasoning: hippocratic oath in bathroom stall led irritation
within tendons of lake fishermen and my own trouble with the
starch craving scandinavian scene.
that's pretty damn ill.
going to the barber shop to get myself some staples
true story from leadership magazine. exegetical aim. pete rose
is my father, hamblin and kersey, headed to jersey, horses for
mothers that cannot put together a fine assortment of stew.
ambulence driving and off the cuff diving and calenders thriving
for geocentricity when everyone is perfectly aware that the
heliocentric theorum was a minty(mighty) train rolling in.
within the capillaries of exxon and ex-spanish diplomats one will find
if looking is the goal, elders can't abbreviate when sentence
structure reaches a point of contracting mouthwash.
excersice daily and feel like patricia hearst,SLA took my
daughter away.
one day I hope to own a butcher shop and drink my self into
early retirement. Teach the youth of the glories of mental
handicaps and verbal envelopment.
my trophy case is empty and the city has taken my pride, my
libido,and my Marquee Moon tape.
beta in chernobyl with a full notebook and the feeling of having taken the
innocence of many youthful females, smiling, thumbing my way
to missouri.
slow train to hell.
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I know, I know. It's a wonderful poem and I am superior to
everyone. thank you.---puget trousers
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ok i dont get it-madison
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It's a good thing you're your own fan, Puge, because I'll tell you, you haven't many others. Go play near a sewage treatment plant. In the meantime, steamed vegetables don't go away when Jimmy shoves them under the rug.
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listen up, fuckheads. Read my poems. They are better than
everyone else's. I cannot help the fact that I am a better
writer than all of you, I eat stew and consumate marriage.
I dance the inquisition and rival mothers fishing. I am
the alpha and omega, the taster of ortega. I am the dead
kennedys and john coltrane and jesus and ernest hemmingway.
I am better than all of you. Accept that.
---puget trousers
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Puget, you have completely failed as a poet in my eyes. You don't do a damn bit of good at expressing ideas. You almost make a point but then put a random word into it. I don't know how your self-esteem exceeded into conceitedness, but its rather annoying. You have no rythem in your 'poetry' you have no expression you have no structure... you have no poetry. You suck horribly and I wouldn't say so if you weren't being a complete ass and tring to make yourself out to be better then everyone else. So the plebs rise up puget... write poems that aren't riddled with useless junk words put in randomly at your chaotic descretion. There is a point where sureal and vague thoughts turn into the bullshit spatted forth onto paper by a bald guy, with his hands tied behind him in a nice clean white jacket. Poetry is for expression... so start expressing something. Ar? (Ar? Accepts that puget is much better then him, in the vocabulary department expecially.)
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God, Puget, you're STILL around? I would have thought somebody would have knocked you off by now. I've just come back, and I'll post some poetry soon. For those of you that weren't here when I was, I was a regular on here a year or two ago. I'm sure I have poems in the Completed Poems listings. I'll get around to posting some new stuff eventually.
The Dragon Crystal
(also known as Raquel)
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Oh, I also forgot to mention that I'm like Puget Trouser's arch enemy. *Grin*
DC
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Good! Damn dandy! Maybe we'll get some interestin poetry out of it. Ar?
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There's just a lil' too much ego right here. Congrats...you own a theasurus (props to me, i own a dicionary but goodness knows i'm too lazy to actually look anything up) random throwing together of words does not constitute an idea. sometimes you get lucky and it does. Kinda like the theory that if 1000 monkeys typed long enough they could reproduce the entire works of Shakespear. ~Sam
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