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| An Ode To Anhydrous Apertures | Started by: ChristianColucci on Aug 25, '08 19:54 |
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A particularly shifty looking young hoodlum weaves his way down the busy street. With his own personal Everest seconds from realisation, human obstacles are an inconvenience. Weaving draws less suspicion than barging through however. "Precious seconds wasted." he complains to himself. There appears to be a small gathering up ahead and like a shark tuning in to the vibrations of a dying fish he zones in. Without waiting for people to finish their own conversations he coughs rather obnoxiously, demanding attention. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages the circus is about to begin. Come hither. I in my infinite wisdom have decided to compose a Limerick strewn Ode of sorts that does not strictly conform to the standard formula of either. I am but a simple immigrant with little schooling so I do pray forgiveness in advance. Without any further ado I give you Colucci's Iliad(Everest). Dryness and sand are an issue, As is the Bloody Tissue, Causing insatiable itches, For the terrible bitches, Emergency douching, reissue! Most Decisions are made so poorly, Intellectual ejaculate prematurely, Swine will clean the mess, Nazareth will nod yes, Russian fellow no impact surely? Only joshing things are great, But cant keep my face straight, Nightmare scenario A, We face it every day, The giant C's we love to hate. (Yes I am stealing "C's") Even bookies can't compete, With our self confessed "Elite", Nothing even worth a punt, Things stale as old yin's... Mmm bitterness what a treat. The situation could be worse, Could still be in CP's purse, Kidding guys kiss kiss, A "regime" we sorely miss, Please release us from this curse. No fury as a woman scorned, Both menopausal be warned, On eggshells you must walk, Sex now confined to talk, This loss shall be mourned. We all do suffer a costly strife, RE: This natural change in life, Existence not worth living, All taking with no giving, Easily cured by the honest knife, Yes the knife I hold so tightly, Taking life ever so politely, An act both had forgot, Quickly, thrusting, hot, Innuendo? Only very slightly. But alas the job is now done, The witches are dead I have won, Fantasy dreaming, Inside screaming, "This place is no longer fun". Generic exit from the street. |
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Sheds a tear Brilliant. |
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| Reply by: Nub at Aug 25, '08 20:12 | |
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| Goodbye cruel world. | |
| Reply by: ChristianColucci at Aug 25, '08 20:16 | |
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The deepest night The darkest plight The pit inside my soul I clutch it tight And say goodnight And lie down in a hole I love melodrama. |
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| Reply by: HeidiHoels at Aug 25, '08 20:33 | |
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| You obviously have no love for written word as illustrated by such a mediocre rebuttal. Further to this concept of counter poetry, while exciting to the point of dampened knickers can we keep such frivolous pursuits to the "rap battle" establishments in the business district? | |
| Reply by: Yippee-ki-yay at Aug 25, '08 20:46 | |
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Yes, I hate words. All of them, written or otherwise. You have uncovered my shameful prejudice. Good job, you. Rebuttal? If anything, I was cheering the original writer on. Though, do continue to "put me in my place", whatever that means, seeing as how I sleep in an alley behind a dumpster anyhow. |
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| Reply by: HeidiHoels at Aug 25, '08 20:56 | |
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Shade stands up and gives him a standing ovation, clapping wildly before having a work with him after the poetic masterpiece. Excellent. Truly an excellent work of verbal art. I especially liked: No fury as a woman scorned, Both menopausal be warned, On eggshells you must walk, Sex now confined to talk, This loss shall be mourned. |
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| Reply by: Shade at Aug 25, '08 21:35 | |
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