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  • Rookie A Zeitgeber (2/13/2007 6:19:00 PM) Post reply
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    Ode to Kim

    Hot rod death poetry

    in the morning hour

    I seek to know you,

    It hurt down inside

    when I found out you lied

    you cant possibly know how I feel,

    So I'll shift into fourth

    release the clutch

    then let go of the wheel,

    Hot rod death poetry in the final hour, goodnight.....

  • Rookie A Zeitgeber (2/13/2007 6:06:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies


    Theres two cats that live in my house

    they shit in a box,

    I have a box of shit in

    my house

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  • Rookie A Zeitgeber (2/13/2007 5:57:00 PM) Post reply


    Remember that time when we were teenagers

    and we rode bareback

    out to the strawberry fields

    and stuffed our faces 'till we were almost sick,

    I recall it was foggy that day

    and when the sun finally broke through

    you turned and laughed and rode away

    as if you were never there to begin with.......

  • Rookie - 0 Points Karen Degnan-foiles (2/11/2007 10:59:00 PM) Post reply

    Endless Valentine

    My love for you is endless
    I say this with all my heart
    Please be my valentine
    For we will never part

  • Rookie - 0 Points Karen Degnan-foiles (2/11/2007 10:57:00 PM) Post reply

    To the Hero's who gave their lives that day...


    I remember I woke to the sound of chaos
    First I thought it was another bombing in Iraq
    Turned off the radio and turned on the news flash
    I couldn't believe there was an attack

    All those people caught in panic and terror
    When the first tower fell, I thought it was an error
    Then the second deflated like a bag of air
    But with the utmost costly despair

    All those people running for their lives
    I couldn't believe it, to see such demise
    Fear and disbelief running rampant
    An un-waking hideous nightmare of time

    The news cut in, and said the pentagon was hit
    Oh my god I thought, could this be it?
    I looked up to the skies as I drove to work
    I hear there's another plane, but it hit the earth

    They said it was headed for the Sears Tower
    I tried calling my husband, there weren't available towers
    I tried calling on my way to work
    My husband worked at the Sears Tower

    I arrived at work, I tried calling again
    What's happening? Why aren't you answering?
    Pacing the floor, tapping the phone
    Come on Honey, pick up the phone

    I felt guilty as hell because of where I sat
    He could have been Bin Laden's target
    When I heard they changed their route
    I rush came over me, and I let it all out

    Those brave souls on that plane made sure
    It would not reach the destination of horror
    Instead took their own lives
    To an certain deadly detour

    We finally spoke, I was overjoyed
    He was as scared as a little boy
    He said panic and hysteria filled the air
    He wanted to be home, it was all that mattered
    He said the train station was packed and scared
    People were jumping the tracks
    They were just looking to be safe
    The building was evacuated just in case

    But once on the train
    He said there was an eerie silence
    Someone had a radio
    That played the news of that day

    A sigh of relief as they drove further away
    No one on that train will forget that day
    They could have been the next to die that day
    And instead they go home and feel safe again

    I never felt so happy about a plane crashing
    But my husband, my life, my everything
    Was not going to die, at least not that day
    I thank the passengers that gave their lives that day

    They knew they would never
    See their families again
    They knew they were traveling
    As a human time bomb that day

    The parents, the wives, the sons and daughters
    Sisters and brothers, friends and lovers
    I pray for the families who lost their loved ones
    I cannot even imagine how they felt

  • Rookie The poet known as kiibaati (2/4/2007 1:07:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    At my cubicle,
    An android in a sea of
    Grey suited robots
    But am not here
    I could be in bed
    With Paris at the local Hilton
    Or a knock out bout
    With George Bush who just
    Lost his mouth guard
    Or in my major Nollywood role
    And Tom Hanks is my body double
    Or I could be acting in a reality show
    And any moment from now
    The makeup lady will come
    And powder my sweat-drenched face
    I could not be having this migraine
    I could not be doing this again
    In my mind.

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  • Rookie Jan Oskar Hansen (1/29/2007 1:08:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Writer.

    Dreamed of Hemingway,
    out hunting gazelles;
    he shot one and bragged
    shamelessly about it when
    sitting by the fireside
    drinking gin.

    But I heard him late at night
    in his tent …crying, he had
    created monster image of
    himself, the tough guy, he
    couldn’t escape.

    Mind, he did in the end,
    his brain splattered
    on wallpaper, an abstract
    pattern of dead thoughts.
    and the unsaid.

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie A Zeitgeber (2/13/2007 6:27:00 PM) Post reply

      That is excellent Jan, I often sit and think about hemmingway and his meticulous records of how many animals he had hunted and killed. Total was 5,000.

  • Rookie Jan Oskar Hansen (1/29/2007 1:07:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Hunting Party

    When hunters have been, in my valley on
    Sundays, they lay out birds and rabbits in
    a row and talk excitedly about the day’s
    kill before dividing the booty...

    NATO troops kill 55 five Taliban
    The TV, news says,

    Corpses are trucked in from near and afar,
    laid in a row for the press to count the dead;
    fleshy, white skinned Danish officers give
    orders to scrawny Afghans in new uniforms,

    A wall of smiles and elastic loyalty between
    them that makes sense; armies come and go,
    but the Afghans will always remain here in
    this mystic, untamed and sand-coloured land

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  • Rookie Wes Thompson (1/22/2007 10:36:00 PM) Post reply

    she calls me
    late at
    we talk in absolutes
    as if forever
    really did last
    she says that
    i am
    and whatever it is
    inside of me
    (some say it feels like butterflies,
    but i don't believe so)
    that she invokes
    feels like
    it's ripping my
    to shreds
    happy shreds

  • Rookie Jan Oskar Hansen (1/14/2007 2:47:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    A smile from you
    Erases the cosmic loneliness
    Of icy stars

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