I Graze in the Morning Light

[babybottomfeeder]

I grow up and look in a closet at morning,
There are a few things in there

Not a fun or interesting moment,
to do a good deliver-road.

bbf

[Linna Heartbooger]

I voted maybe.

[JazFusion]

Three demerits.

[babybottomfeeder]

Three demerits.

? You don't like my poetry?

How do you decide I get three demerits?

[Ananda]

Three demerits.

? You don't like my poetry?

How do you decide I get three demerits?

Maybe it is like finger snaps? She is a jazz fan after all. They are hepcats and do things smoothly. So it is like a beatnik celebration. Hooray! Because, I do not see how anyone could not love that poem.

[Linna Heartbooger]

Because, I do not see how anyone could not love that poem.

Well, I don't understand it!!

bbf, the first two lines are interesting, and I think I -almost- understand the connections, and maybe a hint of a connection to the title...
(I'm sure I'm also "reading in" my own meanings, too.)

But the last line is so jarring to me!
(but I dunno, maybe it's supposed to be jarring?)

[Ananda]

Because, I do not see how anyone could not love that poem.

Well, I don't understand it!!

I would think that was the point.

[JazFusion]

Three demerits.

? You don't like my poetry?

How do you decide I get three demerits?

The title reminds me of cows. And one time I ate a cheeseburger at Jack In The Box and got salmonella. I'm better now, but your title offends me and reminds me of this horrible memory.

The first line doesn't even explain much. The phrase "I grow up" implies that you have grown up, quite literally, in a matter of minutes. That's impossible. Sometimes writers exaggerate things, but this is just ridiculous. Do you even know how to write?

Thirdly, your avatar has always angered me. Plecos are most certainly not bottom feeders. They might swim around and eat on the bottom of rivers, but they have suckers for mouths! They can eat anywhere they want. They choose to do so on the bottom because that's where all the food settles. I'm offended. Have you ever even owned a Pleco before?

Other than that, I thought it was pretty good.

[babybottomfeeder]

Three demerits.

? You don't like my poetry?

How do you decide I get three demerits?

The title reminds me of cows. And one time I ate a cheeseburger at Jack In The Box and got salmonella. I'm better now, but your title offends me and reminds me of this horrible memory.

The first line doesn't even explain much. The phrase "I grow up" implies that you have grown up, quite literally, in a matter of minutes. That's impossible. Sometimes writers exaggerate things, but this is just ridiculous. Do you even know how to write?

Thirdly, your avatar has always angered me. Plecos are most certainly not bottom feeders. They might swim around and eat on the bottom of rivers, but they have suckers for mouths! They can eat anywhere they want. They choose to do so on the bottom because that's where all the food settles. I'm offended. Have you ever even owned a Pleco before?

Other than that, I thought it was pretty good.

This is so much flops and tailsism. You got sap and salt in the sacred vault of your sensibilities on fun and quirky rockabilly ways. I can't tell whether you are really offended or are being a fun puncher but really just a rock biter. Please remove this post, it doesn't add anything to the inventory of life.

Furthermore, I did not realize that the natural habitat of a "Plecos" involved glass for them to laterally exist at some other point besides the bottom.

The previous statement was sarcasm by the way, learn how to properly use it please.

I would never say anything about your avatar as that would be a direct attack on you and all that you hold deer (sacred dear). Never mention my avatar again please, in the concrete or abstract. It is a Cymbal for change, for the awakening of the weary dreamers from their slumbering ways. Take a few steps back and stop trolling for compliments please.

Finally, let me state that I have a much better imagination than you. I can take a liter of thoughts and stretch them into a galaxy of new stories of galgamated fantasy. Don't try and tread on the one that throws the spears in the furnace young lady. I make it possible for so many constituted laws of art to go on in my own life. When is the last time someone stopped to thank you for your contribution to the living tome of human imagination? Can you underhead how important it is to live in a world of freedom from life's heaviness? Do you know what true understanding of your own goals of the active recombination of thoughts of thoughts can lead to?

Whistle a tune and get back to me

Pleas erase your previous post.

[DukkhaWaynhim]

^ I enjoyment-enhanced my reading of this post by faux-randomly fapping a mini-bongo and Shatner-izing.

[babybottomfeeder]

^ I enjoyment-enhanced my reading of this post by faux-randomly fapping a mini-bongo and Shatner-izing.

Poetry is the life of man's nature - babybottomfeeder 2012

[A White Gold Wedding Band]

I like the way you write a poem babybottomfeeder! You seem to have a strong understanding of word play for the sake of structural choice, which would make meaning less important? The word placements create an abstract painting with improper usage and grammar. I like it! I could be wrong about your intention . Sorry if I have overstepped and put words in your mouth.

Have you ever read Elliot? Because I see passing resemblances.


HYSTERIA

by: T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved
in her laughter and being part of it, until her
teeth were only accidental stars with a talent
for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps,
inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally
in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by
the ripple of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter
with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading
a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: "If the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden,
if the lady and gentleman wish to take their
tea in the garden ..." I decided that if the
shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of
the fragments of the afternoon might be collected,
and I concentrated my attention with careful
subtlety to this end.

[MellowCat]

I grow up and look in a closet at morning,
There are a few things in there

I think this is a subtle yet articulate expression of INTENSE feeling. With few words you were able to express the world-weary feeling of sluggishly pulling oneself out of bed and in the half-awake state of mind and wondering, "What is the point of it all? Should I wear my good, clean clothes or lounge around the house in the clothes I've been living with ALL WEEK?? I'm not going anywhere anyway. I'm not seeing anyone. And what should I eat eggs for breakfast? But they have so many carbs, it will ruin my diet. But I am too poor to buy anything other than eggs at the moment" or "But aren't they unfertilized embryos? WEIRD!" Which is then followed with solemn silence at the realization that you have no one to talk to but yourself. That's when you bid farewell to the offering of a productive day and fall back into bed.

Not a fun or interesting moment,
to do a good deliver-road.

There is nothing nourishing or fulfilling in life, it seems. Not anymore. Everything good is in the past, and even the morning has passed. There is nothing to be accomplished. All of the candied days have melted in the start of the day, now the sticky mess is being devoured by an infestation of greedy ants. On a pessimistic day, that's all society is in the end, anyway. On an optimistic day, society is still that way. Hoards of biting ants. Picking up the dredges of your broken life, taking what's yours because what is yours is theirs.

Your happiness doesn't belong to you. Your happiness depends on the acceptance of the people around you, because without the acceptance of our kind, we are isolated and alone... and unhappy. If you can manage to secure the approval of others then you have not found friends so much as you've found other sinful and lonely animals that keep you around just to lick their wounds in return. It's a facade, feeding each other's egos and soothing the wounds of low self-esteem by masking it with "friendship." Love is selfish.

So, instead of getting out of bed and suffering through the monotony of daily routines and rituals, stay in bed. Avoid the shallow thrills that the world provides because the moment is only fleeting, quickly replaced by regret, lust, addiction, apathy, etc.. You can't do any good for the world, you are only one person. And there would be no point anyway, not when the people you foolishly come to care for will die, the people you help will die, the strangers you smile at will die, your family and friends... they too shall pass. The evil dictators and the abusive fathers and the starving children, they shall all die. And after you die, the world will continue to be cruel.

I would like to add that I don't personally believe any of this. Not on a normal day. Most of the time I think very positively but I try to keep a realistic viewpoint on the happenings around us. Even so, I feel like your poem was articulately expressed as I just described. Anyone can sympathize with these emotions on any bad day. It can be unavoidable at times. But it takes courage to admit this. And it takes genius to say it so well with so few words. For this I applaud you and hope to see more of your work in the future! Best wishes!

[JazFusion]

This is so much flops and tailsism. You got sap and salt in the sacred vault of your sensibilities on fun and quirky rockabilly ways. I can't tell whether you are really offended or are being a fun puncher but really just a rock biter. Please remove this post, it doesn't add anything to the inventory of life.

Furthermore, I did not realize that the natural habitat of a "Plecos" involved glass for them to laterally exist at some other point besides the bottom.

The previous statement was sarcasm by the way, learn how to properly use it please.

I would never say anything about your avatar as that would be a direct attack on you and all that you hold deer (sacred dear). Never mention my avatar again please, in the concrete or abstract. It is a Cymbal for change, for the awakening of the weary dreamers from their slumbering ways. Take a few steps back and stop trolling for compliments please.

Finally, let me state that I have a much better imagination than you. I can take a liter of thoughts and stretch them into a galaxy of new stories of galgamated fantasy. Don't try and tread on the one that throws the spears in the furnace young lady. I make it possible for so many constituted laws of art to go on in my own life. When is the last time someone stopped to thank you for your contribution to the living tome of human imagination? Can you underhead how important it is to live in a world of freedom from life's heaviness? Do you know what true understanding of your own goals of the active recombination of thoughts of thoughts can lead to?

Whistle a tune and get back to me

Pleas erase your previous post.

You're funny.

[babybottomfeeder]

This is so much flops and tailsism. You got sap and salt in the sacred vault of your sensibilities on fun and quirky rockabilly ways. I can't tell whether you are really offended or are being a fun puncher but really just a rock biter. Please remove this post, it doesn't add anything to the inventory of life.

Furthermore, I did not realize that the natural habitat of a "Plecos" involved glass for them to laterally exist at some other point besides the bottom.

The previous statement was sarcasm by the way, learn how to properly use it please.

I would never say anything about your avatar as that would be a direct attack on you and all that you hold deer (sacred dear). Never mention my avatar again please, in the concrete or abstract. It is a Cymbal for change, for the awakening of the weary dreamers from their slumbering ways. Take a few steps back and stop trolling for compliments please.

Finally, let me state that I have a much better imagination than you. I can take a liter of thoughts and stretch them into a galaxy of new stories of galgamated fantasy. Don't try and tread on the one that throws the spears in the furnace young lady. I make it possible for so many constituted laws of art to go on in my own life. When is the last time someone stopped to thank you for your contribution to the living tome of human imagination? Can you underhead how important it is to live in a world of freedom from life's heaviness? Do you know what true understanding of your own goals of the active recombination of thoughts of thoughts can lead to?

Whistle a tune and get back to me

Pleas erase your previous post.

You're funny.

Mod Edit: BottomFeeder no. Let's be nice. Also every time you make a 2-line poem please put it in a thread with your other poems instead of creating a topic for everything.

Maybe call it "BottomFeeder's Playpen" or "Aquarium" or something.

Thanks,
LF

[Ananda]

Beebs has all us ladies intrigued. Just need deer and zormie to post now.

[sgt.null]

it just doesn't end does it.

i tried warning all of you...

gonna need a bigger boat...

[babybottomfeeder]

Songwriters: ROSE, W. AXL / CARROLL, BRIAN / MANTIA, BRYAN KEI / SCATURRO, PETER JOSEPH

Do you recall the night
That very, very special night
Do you remember a girl (that very,special girl)
Well to the old and to the new
We redeacate this song to you

Oh what a night, too love you dear
Oh what a night, too hold you near
Oh what a night, too squeeze you dear,
That's why I love you so.

Oh what a night, too love you dear
Oh what a night, too hold you dear
Oh what a night, too kiss you dear,
That's why I love you so
I won't forget all those things you have told to me
Things in my heart won't let me forget your love

Oh what a night, too love you dear
Oh what a night, too hold you near
Oh what a night, too squeeze you dear
That's why I love you so.

Oh what a night, too love you dear
Oh what a night, too want you dear
Oh what a night too kiss you dear
That's why I love you so.

One more night
Can I walk you home one more night
I wanna make love to you one more night
I love you baby
I want you baby
I need you baby
I love you baby.... one more night

[sgt.null]

here be dragons?

one ring to bind, one bottom feeder to disrupt,
and i wish we could set phasers on that level.
to level the playing field. in the immortal words
of mr. harris...

Spring was never waiting for us, girl
It ran one step ahead
As we followed in the dance
Between the parted pages
And were pressed in love's hot, fevered iron
Like a striped pair of pants

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again, oh no

I recall the yellow cotton dress
Foaming like a wave
On the ground around your knees
The birds like tender babies in your hands
And the old men playing checkers, by the trees

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again, oh no

There will be another song for me
For I will sing it
There will be another dream for me
Someone will bring it
I will drink the wine while it is warm
And never let you catch me looking at the sun
And after all the loves of my life
After all the loves of my life, you'll still be the one
I will take my life into my hands and I will use it
I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it
I will have the things that I desire
And my passion flow like rivers through the sky
And after all the loves of my life
Oh, after all the loves of my life
I'll be thinking of you and wondering why

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh no, oh no, no, no, oh no

[babybottomfeeder]

here be dragons?

one ring to bind, one bottom feeder to disrupt,
and i wish we could set phasers on that level.
to level the playing field. in the immortal words
of mr. harris...

Spring was never waiting for us, girl
It ran one step ahead
As we followed in the dance
Between the parted pages
And were pressed in love's hot, fevered iron
Like a striped pair of pants

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again, oh no

I recall the yellow cotton dress
Foaming like a wave
On the ground around your knees
The birds like tender babies in your hands
And the old men playing checkers, by the trees

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again, oh no

There will be another song for me
For I will sing it
There will be another dream for me
Someone will bring it
I will drink the wine while it is warm
And never let you catch me looking at the sun
And after all the loves of my life
After all the loves of my life, you'll still be the one
I will take my life into my hands and I will use it
I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it
I will have the things that I desire
And my passion flow like rivers through the sky
And after all the loves of my life
Oh, after all the loves of my life
I'll be thinking of you and wondering why

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh no, oh no, no, no, oh no

A Stomp around Beaten Bushes

The crinkled old man set out his stool

Cool! Cried the 14 year old skater, looking at his wares.

Bears! Cried his little sister

Mister! Can we buy those bears and this stuff?!

Enough! Cried the old man and pointed a knife at the youths.

Booths! Go to other booths, get out of my light!

Right! Said the sister, with bored features.

Creatures! Yelled the brother, as monsters crept up to the three.

Flee! Said the monsters, who were likely ghost ghouls.

Fools! Yelled the old man slashing their throats.

Gloats! Said the same man upon finishing the deed.

Plead?! Asked the sister to the brother on behalf of the toys.

NOISE! Honked the boy's loud screamer with a disturbing display.

Away! cried the old man with stool in hand.

Planned! Said the children to the toys and stuff and things, for children know the just and honest ways of known displaced wishes, golden books and glowing rings.

by: bbf 2012

for Ananda
influenced by Sgt. Null

Dear Null,

Obtuse thinking is not always the straight path to friendship.

Thanks for the thoughts,

bbf