How about (finish the Robert Frost line with an MTS theme in mind):
Something there is that doesn't love a
Something there is that doesn't love a
MTS poetry meld
- Thread starter heyjude
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black-masked axe murderer?
Yeah, I suck. Where's History? She's good at this!
BTW, my dh looked at this thread. "Wow," he said, "some of those are really good! But yours... yours is so bad it made me laugh." Um... thanks dear!
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Sigh ... I'm just not feeling it today .... wait till I work on my taxes for a while, then I'll be ready. 
This is actually on the poetry SYW from many months ago
I gamble with female form
Paint a lifeless body
Motionless and scarred
I try to make them pretty again
Very much alive
Rotting from the inside
They smell of marriage and television
A smile as their eyes close
I’m weak from the effort,
But its worth it
I gamble with female form
Paint a lifeless body
Motionless and scarred
I try to make them pretty again
Very much alive
Rotting from the inside
They smell of marriage and television
A smile as their eyes close
I’m weak from the effort,
But its worth it
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Too Many Clews
Last night a black sock was found in the cellar.
A call to the continent was overheard by the maid.
A volume of poems was shelved upside down.
We can't tell if that's rust, or blood on the blade.
Lord Thomas went riding and didn't return
Until after dawn, which we all found quite weird.
The Bishop ate luncheon with Adelaide Treacher.
John Morton, the sexton's son, shaved off his beard.
Miss Jeffries was wand'ring the streets in her nightclothes,
All stained a peculiar shade of dark green.
The shotgun is missing from under the stairway.
Out on the moor, some strange men have been seen.
The curate discovered his scarf had been tied
Into a Thugee knot during the sermon.
The horses are nervous when led to the stables.
Nobody knew Lady Mildred spoke German.
Last night a black sock was found in the cellar.
A call to the continent was overheard by the maid.
A volume of poems was shelved upside down.
We can't tell if that's rust, or blood on the blade.
Lord Thomas went riding and didn't return
Until after dawn, which we all found quite weird.
The Bishop ate luncheon with Adelaide Treacher.
John Morton, the sexton's son, shaved off his beard.
Miss Jeffries was wand'ring the streets in her nightclothes,
All stained a peculiar shade of dark green.
The shotgun is missing from under the stairway.
Out on the moor, some strange men have been seen.
The curate discovered his scarf had been tied
Into a Thugee knot during the sermon.
The horses are nervous when led to the stables.
Nobody knew Lady Mildred spoke German.
If you walk alone in the dark too long
The demons will match you stride for stride
If you walk alone in the dark too long
The devil is forever your guide
If you dance alone in the dark too long
The devil he will dance by your side
If you dance alone in the dark too long
a dance down to hell he will in vied
If you follow him into the bone black
If his company you will abide
If you follow him, don’t turn to look back
Or ever in salt you shall reside
The demons will match you stride for stride
If you walk alone in the dark too long
The devil is forever your guide
If you dance alone in the dark too long
The devil he will dance by your side
If you dance alone in the dark too long
a dance down to hell he will in vied
If you follow him into the bone black
If his company you will abide
If you follow him, don’t turn to look back
Or ever in salt you shall reside
Sort of a poem
I touched her
She was nervous
Trembling, sobbing
She didn’t understand
A simple solution
She wept, cried out to god
I hated the whole thing
Violence and crying women are my curse
He had stopped moving
I can’t live without him she cried
Fear filled the air
Bad luck I said, you came home a little early
I live here, how is coming home bad luck
She was quiet now, both forever silenced
Good point
I thought while I cleaned my knife
How can coming home be bad luck?
I touched her
She was nervous
Trembling, sobbing
She didn’t understand
A simple solution
She wept, cried out to god
I hated the whole thing
Violence and crying women are my curse
He had stopped moving
I can’t live without him she cried
Fear filled the air
Bad luck I said, you came home a little early
I live here, how is coming home bad luck
She was quiet now, both forever silenced
Good point
I thought while I cleaned my knife
How can coming home be bad luck?
Based on a True Case Related to Me by Dr. William Bass in 1983
Cause of death, undetermined -
There's not enough left.
Her doggies ran out of kibble.
Her son came to visit,
Away ran the mutts,
Just leaving the bones that they'd nibbled.
A ring has gone missing,
Consumed by a dog,
Of that her poor offspring is sure.
He searches the woods
For the priceless jewel,
In each piece of canine manure.
He checks all the pooh
For acres around,
No ring; he begins to turn bitter.
But he's out there still,
In search of his birthright -
He's the heir of the dog that bit her.
Cause of death, undetermined -
There's not enough left.
Her doggies ran out of kibble.
Her son came to visit,
Away ran the mutts,
Just leaving the bones that they'd nibbled.
A ring has gone missing,
Consumed by a dog,
Of that her poor offspring is sure.
He searches the woods
For the priceless jewel,
In each piece of canine manure.
He checks all the pooh
For acres around,
No ring; he begins to turn bitter.
But he's out there still,
In search of his birthright -
He's the heir of the dog that bit her.
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- Joined
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- Location
- Western New York State
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“Just a sec!” she called. “It’s almost finished!”
She mixed the salad of lettuce and spinach.
She chopped the tomatoes,
cucumbers, and beans,
arranging them neatly on top of the greens.
The eyeballs were hard-boiled, along with the eggs,
She sliced them the same as the strips of fried legs.
Tossed with a dressing of blood and red vinegar,
“Alright,” she said, “who wants salad with dinner?”
She mixed the salad of lettuce and spinach.
She chopped the tomatoes,
cucumbers, and beans,
arranging them neatly on top of the greens.
The eyeballs were hard-boiled, along with the eggs,
She sliced them the same as the strips of fried legs.
Tossed with a dressing of blood and red vinegar,
“Alright,” she said, “who wants salad with dinner?”
We had to write sad limericks for a uni activity, so I'm posting this here for you all:
MURDER
There was ice and snow on the ground,
And blood where the body was found.
Three blows to the head
And the woman was dead
Now there’s cars and police all around.
Short and not very sweet.
MURDER
There was ice and snow on the ground,
And blood where the body was found.
Three blows to the head
And the woman was dead
Now there’s cars and police all around.
Short and not very sweet.
Shallow Grave
Bludgeons and blades, revolvers and rope,
The top of the stairs for carefully placed soap,
Poisons and hypos with way too much dope,
And a rest in a shallow grave.
Except for the hookers, girls all stay away.
The ones that do not rarely see light of day.
Amazing what you can do with barbed wire today!
And then down in a shallow grave.
Taking their pictures for magazine covers,
Tied up and threatened by make-believe lovers.
A tug on a rope and their bodies all hover,
Then get tossed in a shallow grave.
Garrotings and beatings and shootings and cuts;
How dare the head shrinker say that I'm nuts?
I doctored his liquor, the poor dumb old putz.
Then into that old shallow grave!
Bludgeons and blades, revolvers and rope,
The top of the stairs for carefully placed soap,
Poisons and hypos with way too much dope,
And a rest in a shallow grave.
Except for the hookers, girls all stay away.
The ones that do not rarely see light of day.
Amazing what you can do with barbed wire today!
And then down in a shallow grave.
Taking their pictures for magazine covers,
Tied up and threatened by make-believe lovers.
A tug on a rope and their bodies all hover,
Then get tossed in a shallow grave.
Garrotings and beatings and shootings and cuts;
How dare the head shrinker say that I'm nuts?
I doctored his liquor, the poor dumb old putz.
Then into that old shallow grave!
Congratuations, I think you've invented a whole new genre!! I enjoyed this waaaaaay too much.
orchestrated death
stunning symmetry
measured in
vivid scarlet dreams
the knife
closely intimate
like a lover’s thrust
sharp as betrayal
as a shattered heart
we once loved
inseverably
limbs entwined
tasting salty skin
too much salt?
he appreciated irony
and a fine meal
nourishing those
who search for him
(inseverably: "that which can't be cut apart"
)
stunning symmetry
measured in
vivid scarlet dreams
the knife
closely intimate
like a lover’s thrust
sharp as betrayal
as a shattered heart
we once loved
inseverably
limbs entwined
tasting salty skin
too much salt?
he appreciated irony
and a fine meal
nourishing those
who search for him
(inseverably: "that which can't be cut apart"
)
You're all scary in an amazingly talented way.
Anybody going to take a stab at (haha) Good Word's challenge at the top of the page?
Anybody going to take a stab at (haha) Good Word's challenge at the top of the page?
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I would if I understood poetry.
Teena, I think you got it down -- nice and creepy! So much for inseverability, huh?
Teena, I think you got it down -- nice and creepy! So much for inseverability, huh?
Last edited:
Thanx! Poetry is my genre, but this thread is to die for..... Don't know if there is another one in my dessicated brain or not, but now that I've thought "dessicated" I might just hav'ta try again.
Addicting, innit?
OK, a ripped off tongue...in cheek.
If by my will
my own heart kill
and rip it twice asunder
because you lied
and when I pried
found your fateful blunder
turned now to stone
no feelings own
hot tears no longer cried
though still it beats
is lack of heat
murder or suicide?
If by my will
my own heart kill
and rip it twice asunder
because you lied
and when I pried
found your fateful blunder
turned now to stone
no feelings own
hot tears no longer cried
though still it beats
is lack of heat
murder or suicide?
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In honor of the Little Willie poems I read as a child..... hummmm..... probably explains a lot.
Willie hated his next door neighbor
Fed him to an Alligator
Skinned the gator with his knife
Made a purse and shoes for his neighbor's wife
Willie hated his next door neighbor
Fed him to an Alligator
Skinned the gator with his knife
Made a purse and shoes for his neighbor's wife
Real Doll
Rage spurred the first one,
when Lina stepped out on me
caught her kissing, tonguing him
bitch cat in heat.
Chloroform in hand,
high shriek, and nails cutting
into me
head back, and snap
to the side,
sweet eyes slivered in sleep.
My panting stirred her eyelashes
I kept her for a week,
in spite of the flaws,
oil slick bruises spreading,
tongue too fat, encased
by yellow teeth.
With the girls who came after,
though more precious,
and properly stored,
I never felt the same,
that black, sexual, heat.
It's true when they say
first love is the deepest.
Rage spurred the first one,
when Lina stepped out on me
caught her kissing, tonguing him
bitch cat in heat.
Chloroform in hand,
high shriek, and nails cutting
into me
head back, and snap
to the side,
sweet eyes slivered in sleep.
My panting stirred her eyelashes
I kept her for a week,
in spite of the flaws,
oil slick bruises spreading,
tongue too fat, encased
by yellow teeth.
With the girls who came after,
though more precious,
and properly stored,
I never felt the same,
that black, sexual, heat.
It's true when they say
first love is the deepest.
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Hello dearest M/T/Sers,
My earthquake brain is too frazzled to write, so I ended up browsing the boards instead. I can't believe I never saw this thread before!
Just for funsies, I decided to write a poem about us here on the MTS board, so we can bask in the glow of our fabulousness. It's not finished, so please feel free to add on stanzas!
PS I hope you all like it; but if you are in the poem and want me to remove your stanza just PM me and I will happily do so...
My earthquake brain is too frazzled to write, so I ended up browsing the boards instead. I can't believe I never saw this thread before!
Just for funsies, I decided to write a poem about us here on the MTS board, so we can bask in the glow of our fabulousness. It's not finished, so please feel free to add on stanzas!
Hope you enjoy it! I ran out of rhymes before I ran out of people, so please go ahead and chip in with other stanzas about yourself or other lovely MTSers"The MTS Crew", or,
"Do You Really Know What You're Getting Into?"
The MTS crew
Are a fabulous bunch
We don’t post out of turn
Or troll, kick or punch;
But once you’ve been
On these boards for a while
You'll start to recognise
Our inimitable style...
Todd Dubya Bush
Is a real sweet dude
Though all of his characters
Are evil, dead, or crude...
Our lovely Mama Jude
(Vegetarian by day)
By night wields machetes
And wades into the fray...
Kaitie writes of heroes
In the land of the rising sun
And somewhere in her chapters
She plants that smoking gun
And here is the Sleuth
She’s right into mystery,
But cross her MC’s path
And thou shalt be history...
Ken Hoss is in Texas
brewin’ up a Storm
But in poor Kelli’s world
Murder is the norm...
Steamy writes Victorian,
And from respect for the Age,
all her gruesome deaths
Happen off the stage...
And then there’s the one
Who’s so full of “Sass”
Her stories are chilling,
Poignant, kick-ass...
PS I hope you all like it; but if you are in the poem and want me to remove your stanza just PM me and I will happily do so...