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Poetry

#41
MakiSupaStar said:
CheeseMonkey, and UJ, until you've been laid your opinion of man laws hold no weight. You are no more than a couple of kids banging on the doors of a club to which you do not belong to yet. So your kneejerk response is to reject that which rejects you. So you can take your toys home and read pretty poems to each other, but until you realize that the main reason you are writing poetry is to get laid, then you will never have any say on what the man laws are or are not. This is coming from a published poet. With that I leave you with you.



Therefore,

Let me say this




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Now playing: Earth, Wind & Fire - Reasons
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Yet these rules may or may not apply to you yet depending on your standing with Man Law 54.

But hey, if poetry is your bag. I present to you.



but...




So my young poetry-writing emo friends, I part with...



:)
Click to expand...

any male who needs a set of laws to know that he has balls shouldn't be a man in the first place.

I know im a Man and i know that i Got the Danglies too so i say this with all do respect follow your man law 154.(don't be Stupid)
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Now playing: Earth, Wind & Fire - Sing a Song
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#43
unclejam said:
any male who needs a set of laws to know that he has balls shouldn't be a man in the first place.

I know im a Man and i know that i Got the Danglies too so i say this with all do respect follow your man law 154.(don't be Stupid)
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Now playing: Earth, Wind & Fire - Sing a Song
via Invalid Link Removed
Click to expand...

Just because you have them, doesn't mean you're using them. You're failing to see the power of poetry my friend. I can't tell you how many chicks I lured back to my house on the premise of "hearing me read" my poetry. But go ahead, be my guest Mr. seeking-flaccid-love-into-thine-soul. Knock yourself out. :rolleyes:
 
#45
Man Laws are stupid
Cheesemonkey is a REAL man
Maki gets a fail

royal-fail.jpg


see now we are back to poetry...
 
#52
Here's the latest, a little lengthy.

The box says
makes twelve to eighteen
but
I only want
eight.

It does the
math for
me.
One cup of batter,
three fourths of water.
I add milk
for
gusto.

One
large
and
all encompassing
tender
and
loving
would be
enough for
me.

It's four in the morning,
one in L.A.
I call and she answers.

“Can I make just one giant pancake?”

“I'm in bed.”

With some man,
the girl on the T.V.
Wants to be.
It's a teenage
movie,
One girl uses the
word sporadic.
Seldom,
the irony
of
high school oppression
and million
dollar
films
get to me.

She drives
in platforms.
In my flip flops
I am just as disconnected from
the road.
She parks
and
butter burns.

I call a fellow east coaster.
“Can I make one giant pancake?”

“Well, you could
I did it once,
It didn't turn out so good,
is your skillet big enough?
Make sure the heat is on medium,
Aunt Jemimah usually says medium low?
I'm assuming you're using Aunt Jemimah, no?”

I settled on
Two skillets
two pancakes.

One was burnt and overstayed
her welcome.
And the other had just enough
fluff.
 

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