| Poems and Other Wantnot | ||||||||||
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| Urgh! will you people not listen?!?! I said not to come here, but I suppose that since curiosity killed the cat it'll be a good enough death for you too. Here's my site-in-progress. and since you're here you can help (see below) Horray for yet another poorly designed, yet brilliant(haha)page from me! Here I would like to show you a most wonderous collection of poemetry that I've read/written through the years That having been said, on with the show! Good Dog Nigel Arf, Arf, he goes, a merry sight, Our little hairy friend, Arf, Arf, upon the lampost bright Arfing round the bend. Nice dog! Goo boy, Waggie tail and beg, Clever Nigel, jump for joy Because we're putting you to sleep at three of the clock, Nigel ~J. Lennon *this is one of my most favorite poems :) From the Old Country There once was a tiny, itsy, bitsy goat. He went in the water, but he could not float. He died. Walking-Stick Bird The walking stick Bird, of which few have heard, Does nothing under the sun but walk. It cannot sing, it cannot talk, It seldom eats, it never flies. It walks and walks and walks and walks; It walks on roads and on sidewalks, It walks by bushes, stems and stalks, It walks down railroads, past road signs Past blinking lights and yellow lines, Past supermarkets, skating rinks, Bowling alleys, and golf links, It walks past ladies with mink stoles, Past barbershops with bright pink poles, And miners working in sinkholes; It walks down lanes, through fields of clover, Under underpasses, over Bridges, in and out of doors Round and round and round dance floors; It walks through woods, it walks by streams, and never stops and never dreams, of sitting down to take the air; It walks along a thoroughfare That joins another one somewhere; It walks for weeks and weeks and weeks through hot white deserts, up white peaks, It walks past men with tattooed cheeks And blood-red birds with soup-plate beaks; It walks on far beyond Land's End, Where sand and sky and water blend; It walks past oceans yet uncharted And when it gets back where it started, It looks around, it blinks it's eyes, Then as if taken by surprise, Screams Bloody Murder, crumples up, and dies. FIN ~W. J. Smith *thanks yet again Iliana! As you can see, I have a great need for further poems. If you have any in mind that would work wel please email me a [email protected] i'd be glad to add them. Just please include the author if you read it somewhere, or if you want credit for your poem. Thank you, come again, and have a nice day |
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| This is your brian on crack | ||||||||||
| Other loverly sites to visit... | ||||||||||
| Story Time! | ||||||||||
| The Commentary | ||||||||||
| In honor of the Solitaire Junkie (don't worry, she's not dead or anything gastly) | ||||||||||