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Female Performer Chat: Poetry (original.or.attributed)
The baby velociraptor lifted head and haunches up to the sky, for mommie had returned from the hunt. Mommie always brought home lots of good kill for him to fill his young belly with.
Today was no exception. As soon as she appeared, good cuts rained down, and the happy baby pounced on the nearest and began to messily devour it.
Mommie was in excellent spirits. She grinned a toothy grin and began to recite -
"Little Bo..."
Instantly the little raptor protege lifted his blood covered muzzle and fixed mommie with a bright, curious eye. He, by the way, was siblingless for a dark and brutal reason. A reason that anyone familiar with the habits of such birds as the cuckoo can already guess. But I digress...
His bright little eye fixed. His sharp little brain whirred. "Bo" he thought. "How deucedly clever."
"Peep" continued mommie "Had gotten separated from her sheik."
"Ah I can see where this is going" thought the little one. His grin widened. He scratched his claws contentedly through the damp jungle soil.
"She was all alone in the jungle."
"She sat down and began to frown"
"For she had lost her tube anti-fungal"
"Nice" thought the babe. He reflected upon how he came to avoid the extremities of the less sophisticated humans he dined... with. The jungle always seemed to dine on them a little first before he got his chance. This made him pout a little.
The mommie was sharp. She sensed his thought process. "No junior." she scolded "Not humans,
hominids. These furry things have a lot more growing to do."
"Yes, yes, yes" sulked back the little one. "So much care for such an insignificant thing."
"The jungle was still"
"Then came a trill"
"Three dozen raptors jumped out"
"And cured her gout."
"Ever so finally......."
She paused long for effect.
"The sheik came by"
"And began to sigh."
"So they jumped out again"
"and left him with a grin."
"On his poor poor fleshless skull,"
"sans anything for kites to pull."
She bowed. The raptor danced around with delight for a little while. But then returned to his meal.
Never was a baby more sure that all was right and good with the world.
Honestly Dudley..if you find all of this by your self....my hat to you!!....you entertain me..thx........ Quote
Honestly Dudley..if you find all of this by your self....my hat to you!!....you entertain me..thx........
YES!!! HATS for DUDLEY!!!! HURAHHHHH!!!!! Quote
Courage
There's no simple explanation
For anything important any of us do
And yea the human tragedy
Consists in the necessity
Of living with the consequences
Under pressure, under pressure.
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, couldn't come at a worse time.
lyrics by the tragically hip 1997 Quote
There's no simple explanation
For anything important any of us do
And yea the human tragedy
Consists in the necessity
Of living with the consequences
Under pressure, under pressure.
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, couldn't come at a worse time.
lyrics by the tragically hip 1997 Quote
Created by:
dudley_do_ride
3/20/11 @ 10:00am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
Honestly Dudley..if you find all of this by your self....my hat to you!!....you entertain me..thx........
Thanks much! Glad it brings a smile to ya. Though I don't know what our shrinks would say...
And by the way, used to be that Red Barchetta was a fav of mine. You had to keep your eye on Rush, they would bring out some pretty creative stuff. My interests have changed now but those guys definately left their mark. Cool.
Quote
Created by:
dudley_do_ride
3/20/11 @ 10:15am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
YES!!! HATS for DUDLEY!!!! HURAHHHHH!!!!!
And look at you, starting some kind of literary(?) movement here and feeding it fast and well.
I wonder what it will be called by historians. Something with a neo and a post I think.
hmmmm Maybe the neoFlirtarian Circle of PostUberAngstRidden Moedairns centered in Sin City with tinges of Mountieism? We'll have to see.
Quote
Created by:
dudley_do_ride
3/20/11 @ 10:32am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
POOR LITTLE ANGELINE - writer unkown
She was sweet sixteen on the village green
Pure and innocent was Angeline
A virgin still never known a thrill
Poor little Angeline
At the village fair the Squire was there
Masturbating on the village sqare
When he chanced to see the dainty knee
Of poor little Angeline
Now the village Squire had but one desire
To be the biggest fucker in the whole damn shire
He had set his heart on the vital part
Of poor little Angeline
As she lifted up her skirt to avoid the dirt
She slipped in a puddle of the Squire's last spurt
At the sight he saw how his cock grew raw
For poor little Angeline
So he raised his hat and said "Miss, your cat
Has been run over and is squashed quite flat
Now my car is in the square and I'll take you there
Oh poor little Angeline
Now the filthy old turd should have got the bird
But she climbed right in without a word
As they drove away you could hear them say
"Poor little Angeline"
They had not gone far when he stopped the car
And took little Angeline into a bar
Where he gave her gin just to make her sin
Poor little Angeline
When he oiled her well he took her to a dell
There to give her bloody fucking hell
And he tried his luck with a low down guck
On poor little Angeline
With a cry of "Rape" he raised his cape
Poor little Angeline had no escape
Now it's time someone came to save the name
Of poor little Angeline
Now the village blacksmith was brave and bold
And he had loved little Angeline for years untold
And he vowed he'd be true whatever they'd do
To poor little Angeline
But sad to say that very same day
The blacksmith had gone to jail to stay
For coming in his pants at the local dance
With poor little Angeline
Now the window of his cell overlooked the dell
Wher the Squire was giving little Angeline hell
And there upon the grass he observed the arse
Of poor little Angeline
Now he got such a start that he let out a fart
And blew the whole bloody jail apart
And he ran like shit lest the Squire should split
His poor little Angeline
When he got to the spot and he saw what was what
He tied the villain's balls in a granny knot
For there upon the grass was the imprint of the arse
Of poor little Angeline
"Oh blacksmith true I love you I do
And I can tell by your trousers that you love me too
Here I am undressed come and do your best"
Cried poor little Angeline
Now it would be wrong here to end this song
For the blacksmith had a cock fully two foot long
And his natural charm was as thick as your arm
Lucky little Angeline
As said before - writer and date of writing is unknown.
Yes but now I have to classify this to understand where it fits in "the movement". Let's see,
maybe neoGothic Graphic Richly Ornamented Realmotif with influences from the Vienna PostPerpetualWankenJedenTagVorVielZwanzigEenchScreenen Circle. Or?
Quote
She was sweet sixteen on the village green
Pure and innocent was Angeline
A virgin still never known a thrill
Poor little Angeline
At the village fair the Squire was there
Masturbating on the village sqare
When he chanced to see the dainty knee
Of poor little Angeline
Now the village Squire had but one desire
To be the biggest fucker in the whole damn shire
He had set his heart on the vital part
Of poor little Angeline
As she lifted up her skirt to avoid the dirt
She slipped in a puddle of the Squire's last spurt
At the sight he saw how his cock grew raw
For poor little Angeline
So he raised his hat and said "Miss, your cat
Has been run over and is squashed quite flat
Now my car is in the square and I'll take you there
Oh poor little Angeline
Now the filthy old turd should have got the bird
But she climbed right in without a word
As they drove away you could hear them say
"Poor little Angeline"
They had not gone far when he stopped the car
And took little Angeline into a bar
Where he gave her gin just to make her sin
Poor little Angeline
When he oiled her well he took her to a dell
There to give her bloody fucking hell
And he tried his luck with a low down guck
On poor little Angeline
With a cry of "Rape" he raised his cape
Poor little Angeline had no escape
Now it's time someone came to save the name
Of poor little Angeline
Now the village blacksmith was brave and bold
And he had loved little Angeline for years untold
And he vowed he'd be true whatever they'd do
To poor little Angeline
But sad to say that very same day
The blacksmith had gone to jail to stay
For coming in his pants at the local dance
With poor little Angeline
Now the window of his cell overlooked the dell
Wher the Squire was giving little Angeline hell
And there upon the grass he observed the arse
Of poor little Angeline
Now he got such a start that he let out a fart
And blew the whole bloody jail apart
And he ran like shit lest the Squire should split
His poor little Angeline
When he got to the spot and he saw what was what
He tied the villain's balls in a granny knot
For there upon the grass was the imprint of the arse
Of poor little Angeline
"Oh blacksmith true I love you I do
And I can tell by your trousers that you love me too
Here I am undressed come and do your best"
Cried poor little Angeline
Now it would be wrong here to end this song
For the blacksmith had a cock fully two foot long
And his natural charm was as thick as your arm
Lucky little Angeline
As said before - writer and date of writing is unknown.
Yes but now I have to classify this to understand where it fits in "the movement". Let's see,
maybe neoGothic Graphic Richly Ornamented Realmotif with influences from the Vienna PostPerpetualWankenJedenTagVorVielZwanzigEenchScreenen Circle. Or?
Quote
Created by:
no.op.roo
3/20/11 @ 10:38am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: the fez on the wall
And look at you, starting some kind of literary(?) movement here and feeding it fast and well.
I wonder what it will be called by historians. Something with a neo and a post I think.
hmmmm Maybe the neoFlirtarian Circle of PostUberAngstRidden Moedairns centered in Sin City with tinges of Mountieism? We'll have to see.
lol *sigh* *leans in and whispers a stream of words into Dudley's ear*
(whisper.whisper) (indecipherable.sounds)
(moans)(tears)(rocking.like.children)
(chin.on.chest)(fond.adieu)
(need.r est)(time.for.you)
(whisper.whisper)(fond.adieu)
i'll be back sweetie.. not sure about the "UBER"angst.. there's bigger problems after all..
*whistling a Duran Duran tune*
Quote
For Grumpnose.. not poetry, but, a form of woven reading for you...
... The Phoenix Valley is often called The Valley of the Sun, but I often called it The Valley of the Dead. Its where things were created by nature to do nothing but kill, or eat the dead; and where people went to die, retirees moved there to spend their last days. Even the trees were designed to kill; trees with thorns longer and sharper than thorns on a rose. They were like nails. All the native trees in the valley were like that. Non-native species werent, and looked oddly out of place. Pretty much all of the plant life had thorns. The Cholla cactus would react to the slight vibration of footsteps on the ground near it, and launch its thorns.
Everything there either stung, bit, or pricked. Scorpions of every imaginable variety were there. It was ironic because the large scorpions, the more intimidating ones, were the most harmless. The small, bright yellow, scorpions were deadly. We would get locusts too; huge swarms that would dominate. They would fly into you when you were outside walking around, like suicide planes, only bugs. We lived in harmony with black widows, who, though widely disliked by most, are the most tolerable of insect house mates. They stay in their corners, and very rarely venture out into sight. So long as you dont stick your hand in their corner and try to grab at them, peace and harmony prevailed. The widows was the lifestyle that, later, I would find most tolerable.
Excerpt from Forward to Circles Amanda 2011 Quote
... The Phoenix Valley is often called The Valley of the Sun, but I often called it The Valley of the Dead. Its where things were created by nature to do nothing but kill, or eat the dead; and where people went to die, retirees moved there to spend their last days. Even the trees were designed to kill; trees with thorns longer and sharper than thorns on a rose. They were like nails. All the native trees in the valley were like that. Non-native species werent, and looked oddly out of place. Pretty much all of the plant life had thorns. The Cholla cactus would react to the slight vibration of footsteps on the ground near it, and launch its thorns.
Everything there either stung, bit, or pricked. Scorpions of every imaginable variety were there. It was ironic because the large scorpions, the more intimidating ones, were the most harmless. The small, bright yellow, scorpions were deadly. We would get locusts too; huge swarms that would dominate. They would fly into you when you were outside walking around, like suicide planes, only bugs. We lived in harmony with black widows, who, though widely disliked by most, are the most tolerable of insect house mates. They stay in their corners, and very rarely venture out into sight. So long as you dont stick your hand in their corner and try to grab at them, peace and harmony prevailed. The widows was the lifestyle that, later, I would find most tolerable.
Excerpt from Forward to Circles Amanda 2011 Quote
Created by:
dudley_do_ride
3/21/11 @ 10:29am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
Johnny 2 Times - Sheila X has nice titties, real nice bazoombas bb.
Sheila X - What?! You are saying dat all I've got are these here?! (grabbing breasts dramatically)
Johnny 2 Times - What? What bb? No, not me bb. You are a mountain of woman, everything fine bb.
Sheila X - Oh so now I'm fat. You lousy, cheap, no good sonnofabitch come in here with your lip and ...
Johnny 2 Times - Geez, what is your problem, what you been smoking bb? I come in here and say some nice tings and you start to aggravate me, stomp all over me bb.
Sheila X - Shut your mouth! I don't want any of your sass.
Johnny 2 Times - Sass? Sass bb? I've been a poirfect gentlemen, a regular Don Amici bb. Could it be, is dere any chance, dat dis is dat particular time, dat difficult time of the month for you bb, could it bb?
Sheila X - Oh that is so fucking typical. You come in here tricked out like Liberace, full of your goddamned self, spewing platitudes and pissing me off... And now you dare, you open that obnoxious mouth and dare, my god your life anin't worth a dime, you dare to suggest it's my fucking period? (steam starts to go out her ears... her face goes redder than a tomato... flecks of spit fly out of her mouth every time she shoots out a word)
Johnny 2 Times - I am shocked, appalled bb, at de implications, de accusations comming out of your mouth, dis here moment bb. I have been nothing but a monument to virtue, a ute wit a golden heart bb.
Sheila X - And you've been chatting up every woman in this place. While you take pussy sips out of that drink. You ever gonna finish that?
Johnny 2 Times - So I'm a floirt, sue me bb. Dis is how I make the populace feel good, so good about demselves bb. And eeeeeexxxxxxcuuuuuusseee me for not being a lush, for drinking responsibly bb. Is dis how I am treated after a long hard day of woik, of working for da man bb? Dat I must worry about how much of dis swill you call a drink goes down my troat every half minute? You are starting to piss me off, I am starting to go apoplectic bb.
***** end of scene ***** I can feel it starting to get out of control and I am working to keep a family rating here, just a family rating here bb.
Quote
(unforgettable.Djvu)
H.
(((harley)))
(baiser)(touche) (un.souffle.chaud)(soupir)
(warm.waters)(fine.white.sand)
(hemingway.drink)(beach.chair)
(quick.kisses)(holding.hands)
Quote
H.
(((harley)))
(baiser)(touche) (un.souffle.chaud)(soupir)
(warm.waters)(fine.white.sand)
(hemingway.drink)(beach.chair)
(quick.kisses)(holding.hands)
Quote
Created by:
dudley_do_ride
3/23/11 @ 2:05am
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: hain't Pochipsie son
Posts: 3,267
It has been a long story... A dramatic story...
There has been intrigue... There has been betrayl...
There has been death... There has been ruin...
And now the climax... when Rhett and Sonja throw open the large doors of Tiara to discover...
discover...
The Glass Menage e Tois
(shatter... tinkle tinkle)
"Son of a bitch!!! Get a torniquet!"
"eehhhhh now ooos that then?"
"Blow out your candles Laura..."
"Arrrrrrrroooooooooooooooooooooo"
"It is the hound... That dreadful hound."
"Forsythe.... Damn all the gods in heaven... Forsythe... He's behind that tree!"
"Ah swear by ahl that ahv known... Ah will nevuh be pooor agayn."
"Eeeeeee's bolted it! What larks!"
If only they can react in time, they can pull victory from the jaws of defeat. In this battle of millions, this struggle against the tide of fate, this last desperate stand by the unworthy, can we not see ourselves and indeed all mankind striving to reach, painfully, all that has been envisioned for our kind...
Yes we must endeavor to persevere!
Quote
*stunned* "Ohhh, look it spins and shines Lakm."
Quote
God Made Me
looking for an insult there's a tickle in my head
seeing it's worth the effort I forgive myself
talks that we had, talks that we had are becoming a blur
if only I could love my neighbor
waiting here for the next time with a bottle in my hand
doing it for the exercise I forget myself
and the face that you had, the face that you had is becoming a blur
but how was I supposed to know that?
because God made me
that's all they told me before
and how about you?
and it's off to work we go now
you can forget about a labour of love
it just won't wash anymore
and we'd love to be good but we'd rather be bad
but how was I supposed to know that?
because God made me
that's all they told me before
and how about you?
because God made people
that was the luck of the draw
we do what we want
yes God made me
that's what they told me before
who knows what they'll say today?
because God made me for his sins
imagine my eyes when I first saw
we can do what we want
how could I know?
how could I know about it?
The Sundays 1992 Quote
looking for an insult there's a tickle in my head
seeing it's worth the effort I forgive myself
talks that we had, talks that we had are becoming a blur
if only I could love my neighbor
waiting here for the next time with a bottle in my hand
doing it for the exercise I forget myself
and the face that you had, the face that you had is becoming a blur
but how was I supposed to know that?
because God made me
that's all they told me before
and how about you?
and it's off to work we go now
you can forget about a labour of love
it just won't wash anymore
and we'd love to be good but we'd rather be bad
but how was I supposed to know that?
because God made me
that's all they told me before
and how about you?
because God made people
that was the luck of the draw
we do what we want
yes God made me
that's what they told me before
who knows what they'll say today?
because God made me for his sins
imagine my eyes when I first saw
we can do what we want
how could I know?
how could I know about it?
The Sundays 1992 Quote
Created by:
lickau
3/24/11 @ 8:10pm
(EST) |UTC - 5:00
Location: Moving slowly but surely somewhere sometime
Posts: 29,285
Poetry in Motion
Lube or Lotion ?
Wankers always wank
Hands on thier crank
Will they learn to type ?
Communication is only hype?
Masturbate with all might
Logged on site day and night
Thier eyes hurt and go blind
Never to see "bobs" or "behind"
Callouses on thier dominate hand ,
Makes them break from FlirtLand
Original Bart
Quote
Lube or Lotion ?
Wankers always wank
Hands on thier crank
Will they learn to type ?
Communication is only hype?
Masturbate with all might
Logged on site day and night
Thier eyes hurt and go blind
Never to see "bobs" or "behind"
Callouses on thier dominate hand ,
Makes them break from FlirtLand
Original Bart
Quote
*giggle* (BartDanse.repeat)
Quote
Okey here we go... this is originally mine (sorry for my English)
Lust full of feeling - between the disheveled sheets, the fire of our love...
Slowly slowly appears on the surface essence of the feelings, with a smile on the eager eyes.
Kisses under the jealous moonlight ,our lips that speak one language... the language of love
That love reflex, which holds me on the heart, between the hidden soul.
Naked warm bodies...thats what we are...two souls who speak in silence.
Flying away with you this night!
A single flight arrivals! In your arms
Travel between your thighs, to sleep on your chest, and to wake up in your lips.
They say we are crazy...
They say that a love like ours is as dangerous as hell itself, but we belong to each other...
We do not know how it will finish, this journey, but is it too late to return back...
Gather your dreams and throw everything behind your back.
Take my hand, do not turn your head back ever, when we are going down the fire of our this cursed love! Quote
Lust full of feeling - between the disheveled sheets, the fire of our love...
Slowly slowly appears on the surface essence of the feelings, with a smile on the eager eyes.
Kisses under the jealous moonlight ,our lips that speak one language... the language of love
That love reflex, which holds me on the heart, between the hidden soul.
Naked warm bodies...thats what we are...two souls who speak in silence.
Flying away with you this night!
A single flight arrivals! In your arms
Travel between your thighs, to sleep on your chest, and to wake up in your lips.
They say we are crazy...
They say that a love like ours is as dangerous as hell itself, but we belong to each other...
We do not know how it will finish, this journey, but is it too late to return back...
Gather your dreams and throw everything behind your back.
Take my hand, do not turn your head back ever, when we are going down the fire of our this cursed love! Quote
I come closer like a shadow
You lay there with your nakedness
I don't dare touch it with hands
Although the desire lighting my fire
You do not even know what's happening with me
Blood boiling through my veins
Between us nothing and everything
I don't dare come closer or leave,
Your breast are swollen as if they call me
They are inviting...
And my heart wants to get out of the chest
Does not like to cry nor sing any song!
Watching your belly... eyes going down...
Where your sweetness begins,
And I don't want any other reward
Only to taste the sweetness of this world!
You sleep alone I suffer alone
As I shiver of endless lust
I want, but I don't wanna open your eyes
Enjoying the beauty of you body continuously
Be so deep inside you
By caressing and kissing your eyes,
But this waiting is killing me
Suffocating me
"Please wake up, you got to see me... please baby"
Quote
You lay there with your nakedness
I don't dare touch it with hands
Although the desire lighting my fire
You do not even know what's happening with me
Blood boiling through my veins
Between us nothing and everything
I don't dare come closer or leave,
Your breast are swollen as if they call me
They are inviting...
And my heart wants to get out of the chest
Does not like to cry nor sing any song!
Watching your belly... eyes going down...
Where your sweetness begins,
And I don't want any other reward
Only to taste the sweetness of this world!
You sleep alone I suffer alone
As I shiver of endless lust
I want, but I don't wanna open your eyes
Enjoying the beauty of you body continuously
Be so deep inside you
By caressing and kissing your eyes,
But this waiting is killing me
Suffocating me
"Please wake up, you got to see me... please baby"
Quote
