I never want be a hobbit
Where others take what's yours and bob it
Nor to be a Harry Potter
When the wands point to you and lob it
Nor an Alice down a trick hole
Should the Queen crave yours and rob it
Nor a Frankenstein's poor monster
Whom the crowd'd dislike and mob it
I just want to be me you see
And laze about, perhaps snooze a bit
horny girl want you
for sperm-fest
or was it spam-fest?
This disturbs me and
could horny girl be
permanently banned?
(already addressed in the proper forum, but thought I'd write a poem about it)
we have a spammer online....subject title: horny girl want you, and posts in almost every forum. This started yesterday, as far as I know.
CAV & Letty
Yep, a dumb spammer, which I reported to the Moderator and Adm. about 8:05 am today.
BumbleBeeBoogie
Heh heh, me too. Good on us!
Edgar, pardon the interruption to your poetry thread. Anything been done?
Back to poetry (an A2K Haiku):
The moderators
walk a maddening tightrope
to keep us all sane
Not a pleasant job
But someone has to do it.
Glad it is not me.
I saw and read one - Figure she's history by now.
I sip my morning coffee
While somewhere else someone dies
The dead someones now are free
Not so the family left that cries
I refresh cooling coffee
While somewhere else someone births
Whole schools or a whole army
Strange one planet so many Earths
Rock, lttle one, rock;
Soon enough you will learn to walk.
Rock, little one, rock;
Lie content; let the big ones talk.
You will be my little one
When your growing is done:
When you are twenty or thirty nine
You'll remain little baby of mine.
Rock, little one, gently rock.
From the bite-sized
to the mite-sized
the meek are
never weak.
Round and round he goes
Round and round I watch my Maddy run
his daily indoor exercise fun,
through three rooms he happily races
his Indy 500 qualifying paces.
No checkered flag to slow him down,
he just goes around and around,
then comes to a sudden plop
for a nap in his pit stop.
For my 8 month old Bichon Frise puppy, Madison, the world's silliest dog.
BumbleBeeBoogie
Around the little dog
Stealthily I creep.
He's like a little log;
He snores in his sleep.
Though to trick him I contemplate,
He always meets me at the gate.
Spot on a leaf, spot on a bug;
Brown of a seed, gray of a slug;
Spears all in green, full disarray:
A jungle of weeds where my seeds lay.
The night that I was born
Hunters killed the mischievous unicorn
Boiled and then barbecued
Leftovers later were stewed
On the side ears of corn
The night that I was born
The moon chewed and dog-eared
Hung like a balloon an arrow had speared
Bloodied in the early dawn
Pulled down as the devil's spawn
Spread a curse upon the morn
The night that I was born
Spider webs laid in haste
Where the little beasts ran and were chased
Before jewels in the dew
The running sun did spew
Then melted hate that was formed
The night that I was born
Whoa...that was intense, edgar..."The moon chewed and dog-eared"....great image! I'll pass on a poem today, I'm worn out
me too.
