Poetry.
Remember this little ditty?
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
So I think this is a pretty good place to bury the body.
Fucking poetry.
If there's one thing that Obama's Inauguration has taught us, it's this:
Poetry. Sucks.
First, though, an apology to my readers who are poets and who have those hideous "here is my poetry" sites:
The Apology
A word, a phrase
From within you they move forward
And push pen upon paper.
And, yet still
No one gives a flying fuck you pompous shit.
See?
Anyone can write this bullshit.
Yeah, I watched the Inauguration even though I'm still a Republican and would pay to see a Sarah Palin porno.
I basically caught Obama fucking up the oath, and then randomly dozed off during his speech.
Then I went to work out.
Awesome pectorals wait for no man.
When I got home, though, one of the guys on Fox News was bitching about the Inauguration.
Yes.
a) Fox TV.
b) A journalist complaining about the Democratic Inauguration.
Thank you, Obama!
Change IS happening!!
Regardless, the Fox News guy was bitching about the poet.
Apparently, MC Hammer wasn't available for the festivities, so they hired some broad to write and read a stupid fucking poem instead.
Can't touch this.
I'm not writing the poem, but here is the link for those interested in reading it.
* pause
Ah, now that the one person who clicked on the link is back, let's continue.
Here's an excerpt:
"All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair."
..um...
The first black President is about to be sworn in, and you're reading shit about some guy changing a fucking tire?
And I have an ancestor on my tongue?!
Jesus H. Christ.
I thought it was just a fucking cold sore.
Hi Grandma!!
While you're in there, can you pick out that strawberry seed stuck in my back molar? You're a dear.
Ugh.
Just curious, but since when could I just open a fucking Thesaurus, write down some random shit, call it fucking poetry and then get invited to read it for the President?
What's next?
If I can draw a goddamn turtle from a matchbook cover without tracing him, do I get to go to the fucking ball, too?
You see...we can all be poets.
You can do it too.
Here...watch how I transform my morning into poetry:
Original text:
I woke up this morning and my goddamn nose was bleeding. Fucking winter. I drank a cup of coffee, took a giant shit that broke the surface of the water, and did the crossword puzzle. I think I have a hemorrhoid or colon cancer because my shit was red. Then I went to work.
Transformed into poetry:
Awaken, I am, and expunge a flood of crimson life.
The days have become cold and dry.
Refreshed I become in the nectar of the Gods
as I sit upon the throne of contentment;
Puzzling.
Concern for my inner being dwells
As the evidence of my movement breaches the surface
And, forlorn, all that I see is red and disturbing.
Then I went to fucking work.
Ooooh. Tough.
Poetry.
Bullshit.
Excuse me, now.
I have to go fix my fucking tire if I'm ever gonna make it to the 2012 ceremony.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Check Out My Long Fellow
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
29 comments:
Poetry. Theater's slightly less gay brother.
(copyright That Blue Yak)
Are you sure Sarah Palin is qualified to do porn?
Sorry - still mad about your Patriots comment the other day.
Mine days are spent in silent awe
of the man who has a disconnected ball
The call him the man, the stud, the midget
I'm pretty sure one day he'll be a blogger widget
His poetry speaks in the language of life
I'm fucking glad I'm not his wife
I heard that Obama hand-picked that lameass poet. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ After his speech, she put us right to sleep at work.
I hate poetry, it’s meanings are lost,
Nor can I read it or write it at all.
And I will never expend the cost
Of one book from the store in the Mall.
However, a Sarah Palin porn flick
Could set into motion
A fierce infatuation with my prick
Followed by a bottle of Calamine Lotion.
Moog, you are a sage. Your fine words brought a tear to my eye, not for the first time.
It wasn't the poetry, perse, it was her utter lack of delivery that angered me.
Oh wait. No one's ever gotten angry over poetry. It's effing poetry.
"Embiggun'" is my new favorite word. But I can't use it now cause I'll always picture that guy.
THANKS A LOT, MOOG.
I'm glad I'm the only one that thought this was boring...and I was an English major in college and wrote some poetry after college. Yeah, you guessed it, I'm a millionaire now. :)
Poetry = sucky
Unless it's a limerick. Are those poems?
I'm sorry I can't tear my eyes away from those atrocious man boobs to finish your entry. Ewwwww....
I only caught a few minutes of that crap, and being the judgmental person I am I assume that the rest of it sucked as much as the thirty seconds I saw...
Jen: YOU MEAN YOU WEREN'T WORKING?!?!
So much for remaking America.
Coffepot: Way better than the 'patching a tire' shit.
On another note: does the calamine thing work? Because I've rubbed this puppy raw.
Chris Wood: I'm an herb used for cooking?
LiLu: You're welcome.
Unfinished Rambler: When I was a kid I visited Robert Frost's Farm here in New Hampshire.
See? You're not the only loser.
Saratoga: OOoh...search on this site for 'limericks.' You'll get a story about my old boss.
Sexual harrassment would never be the same.
Kellie: You know you wanna lick 'em. His nipples are like dinner plates!
Don: It's okay to be judgmental. That's why God made us better than everyone else.
mooooog35, posted the last poetic attempt on NotNormal, linked to here.
LOL, hilarious!
AV
A black man gets inagurated and their reciting poetry talking about a dude doing services for free.
Slavery.
Abe Lincoln would be proud.
You know, my husband has had a few poetry books published. He's awesome.
The inaugeration poem was not. I was bored. It was not interesting imagery. It failed.
Now, get some vaseline on your fissures already. Both the ones in your head and the ones down below. Take photos. Imagery, you see.
I HATE poetry like that....can't stand it.
I remember when we had to decipher what this one meant in high school:
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
When the teacher asked me what I thought about it, I told her I thought it was stupid, she was disgusted with me. Still now at age 31 I have NO IDEA what the hell that poem means.
IT'S TALKING ABOUT A FREAKING CHICKEN FOR GOD'S SAKE!
had to come back to add that I agree with Kellie, that dude's nipples REALLY made me want to barf. I'll have nightmares tonight for sure.
I agree it was a mistake, no one gets post modern poetry except us artists.
AV: Thanks,dude! I see most of your posts there have zero comments, so this should really bring 'em in!
rs27: Abe Lincoln is dead. Thought you should know that.
MI: No..by all means, please.
Then I can repost it and tear it apart.
C'mon. Pleeeease?
Becky: If I want interesting imagery, I'll by "Juggs" magazine.
Paty: Holy fuckshit. What a giant piece of crap that was. I have a red wheelbarrow under my deck.
Here's my poem for it:
The Red Wheelbarrow:
So much depends
upon
You not having a
fucking flat tire.
Now I have to pick
up these
heavy haybales from Halloween
and drag them
to the river behind
my house myself
beside the white
chickens.
Man..everything comes down to those fucking chickens, doesn't it?
Malach: Dude. Drawing pictures of you riding a giant rocket penis does not make you an artist.
Moooooog.
Your boobs are really coming along.
As is your poetry.
Keep up the good work!
You write this AFTER I've dedicated a poem just for you!?
Oh the shame, the shame
Never again...
Next time the "chicken" gets ALL the attention!
Mike: Thanks! Made 'em extra big just for you, fella!
Susan: I lost MYSELF on the poetry shit. Nice to see the one part you DID understand was regarding blood in my stool.
Such a lady.
Fiona: Day late and a dollar short, eh? It's okay, next time you can do a haiku for me.
Why, oh why, did I come back- only to catch a glimpse of those nasty man boobs again!!?
Up comes the breakfast...
There once was a midget of steel
Who wrote about poo with such zeal
Though mighty the blast
That came from his ass
His wiggly, poor chap, a limp peel
THANK YOU!!!
I write myself but I don't throw it at people, in fact most people have no idea I write at all and that is ok by me. :) (funny stuff you had there)
Anyway....
I thought I was the only one wanting to throw something at the TV. Everything about that was WRONG! That poem sucked a$$ and why the hell would anyone pick that depressing as poem for that event?
It was a bad luck LOL that's why they screwed up.
Poetry? I only understand Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein!
As usual this post made me laugh out loud.
My favorite lines were:
"And I have an ancestor on my tongue?!
Jesus H. Christ.
I thought it was just a fucking cold sore.
Hi Grandma!!
While you're in there, can you pick out that strawberry seed stuck in my back molar? You're a dear."
** You are a comedic genius! **
You're a closet poet and have drawers full of little journals..admit it.
There once was a moooooog from Nantucket... :)
I'll continue that poem ...
Who said if you don't like it, then suck it ...
Who's next?
Post a Comment