Bad Poetry Contest

The United Squates of Asquarica

wgoconnel — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 00:34:51 GMT

I had pledged allegiance to the square of the United Squates of Asquarica.

And to never to divide my love 'cause a severed Union seemed so unfairica.

But had I known that our universe's triangles made the utmost economy

Then divide the squares so jollilly I must, and make republican and democrat primaries.

Re: or that "uses" cheese

waltz n capsize — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 18:53:00 GMT

no, no. i mean this:

you thought of it FIRST. proof is right here on bad poems fray. i'll testify in court.

w n c

Bad poetry...necessary for developing mature prose?

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 16:51:30 GMT

Whatever one might think of bad poetry it must be considered a useful exercise to jostle one from the superfluous, yet necessary, euphony of youth onto the stabilized prosody which maturity calls for.

I must say that I don't particularly admire myself for not having shaken myself clear of the ecstatic bestial rhythms I've often found myself feeling as a youth, and less so, as an adult.

However, and this brings up and compromises so much for me James Joyce’s "Ulysses," but as a child I admired the poetic prose of the novel but now find it puerile and condescending. Could it be that James Joyce was pandering to the youthful audience by invoking the Vico-like idea that the young think poetically whereas the old have shed their rythmic ways so much as snakes sheds their own skin?

I'm of the emphatic opinion that, yes, what I say is correct, which is perhaps as immature and stupid as anything I could possibly say. Yes, music/poetry is quite like mathematics, the more one inundates oneself with these pernicious influences as a youth, the more out of control one becomes. It's really not until one is older that one might deign to have anything to do with music or mathematics, and that is only to play the pied piper to the much more energetic and ecstatic youth which need to be controlled lest they put old folks to their graves early.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Food for thought? Or more fodder to be chopped up and fed back to me? I can never know, but I'm quite sure I'll be insulted or something. Well I don't care Slate! do your worst if you haven't done insidiously so - or are already doing so.

Anyway fighting bad poetry is just stunting people's growth like so much algebra and whatnot.

I don't want to enter this one

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 11:20:03 GMT

It isn't formatted for the new Fray. DISREGARD. I posted another crappy poem for consideration. Sorry. I just want to make sure that I do bad.

or that "uses" cheese

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 06:24:33 GMT

or that "uses" cheese, I mean

Re: If you were a microbe...

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 06:23:00 GMT

"how does the united states of w go connel grab ya?"

Like a female transvestite in a lesbian bar?

Anway thanks. I think it would be hilarious if some snack food company that used cheese sued me. Wow.

Re: If you were a microbe...

waltz n capsize — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 05:15:56 GMT

holy sh*t.

this is funny!

this is my favorite. but dammit, if frito-lays introduces a new snack food "whaley cheese honey bees" you have a BIG law suit on your hands. how does the united states of w go connel grab ya?

w n c

If you were a microbe...

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 04:58:14 GMT

If you were a microbe of the ilk that aided the digestion of a whale's mother's milk,

Then I'd call you Jonah except if you latched onto any bees,

And tried to escape on one as it flew from under the baby whale's teeth.

And If milk got on the bees, and you made the bees' wings cheesy until they couldn't flap, then

I'll bet bees wouldn't make honey, and people would get stung as they sucked cheese off the bees' bodies.

"normal people"

wgoconnel — Sun, 12 Aug 2007 00:02:01 GMT

normal people should have been on the top

lamentations of an atheist

wgoconnel — Sat, 11 Aug 2007 22:47:01 GMT

Sing Muse,

I’m an atheist; normal hate me.

You see,

Look at those who actually excel

In a world where mausoleums for high prices sell.

These sheep would rather grovel

To their magic gods on the altars of stately hovels

When it’s dangerous for anyone to believe in what big men

Say to do.

I won’t pimp for their sky-fairy;

I’m not star-struck by their vapid

Astral Fu-Man Chus.