I SEE WHAT YOU MEAN , (Anathema IS A PERSON WHO IS DAMNED) BUT I FEEL TO TRUELY LOSE YOUR SELF IN SOMETHING IS GREAT, I FELL THE LONGER THE POEM THE BETTER, IF ITS A POEM THAT FEELS RIGHT TO YOU! I FELT AS IM WRITEING THIS, THAT I COULD GET MY VISON OF HELL ACROSS, (THEIR IS 9 HELLS IN MY POEM) AND THUS, AFFECTIOPNG THE READER TO SEE THAT ITS NOT ALL GONA BE FIRE AND PAIN, BUT HELL REALLY EXPLORERS YOU! AS IT GOES THROUGH IT'S SELF DARKNESS TO BE ALONE IN THE FOREST OF WILLOWS ONLY A RIVER OF BLOOD TO FOLLOW, A MILLION MILES TO WALK BEFOR THE NEXT DOOM , THE STAR LESS SKY ( ALLUSION TO DANTE' INFERNO) AND TO TAKE THE SOUND AWAY SO THE PERSON WOULD BE STUCK TO ONLY HEAR HIM SELF THINK, NOTHING MORE , WHAT IF YOU HAD TO TO WALK , FOR MILLONS OF MILES WITH NOTHING TO TALK TO BUT YOUR SELF, AND TO REFLECT WITH YOUR SINS , COLD AND I AM ALONE IN THIS PART , (PART 2 ) THE MAN GOES THROU A WINTER WASETLAND AGAIN WITH THE STAR LESS SKY, BUT THIS TIME HE CAN SEE THE MOON , NOT A NORMAL MOON BUT HE TAKES IT AS HIS ONLY FRIEND, HE CAN TALK NOW, SO HE SHARES EVERY THING WITH THE MOON, HE REFLECTS HIM SELF TO WHAT THE SYBIL SAID , "CAN YOU SEE THE LIGHT IS IT COLD IS IT GREAT AND UNKNOWN, I CAN TELL YOU WILL LOVE IT, THE NUMBNESS THE SANITY REGAINED THE COLD AND YOU ARE ALONE" HE WALKS THROUGH THE WASTE LAND WONDERING WHY SYBIL SAID THIS, AND THEN IT DAWNS ON HIM , HE TURNS TO THE SKY TO SEE THE MOON GONE , HIS ONE FRIEND FOR THE LAST TIMELESS HELL , GONE, HE SCREAMS AND CRYS TO SYBIL WHY HE COULD TAKE HIM AWAY FROM HIM , HIS ONE FRIEND HIS ONE AND ONLY FRIEND AND "BEING" TO TALK TO. HE WAS TRULY ALONE NOW. VASTNESS HE NOW IS SENT THROUGH HIS 3RD HELL, WHERE IT IS A DESERT WITH NO "REAL SKY NO STAR THAT BURNS UPON HIM, ITS JUST LIT. THE HEAT UN BAREABLE HE STARTS TO RIP HIS FLASH OFF. I'LL GIVE YOU MORE LATER IDEA AND STORY LINE (C) TO JONATHAN RYAN ALLIGOOD 2002
Come on, honey! Join the party. The Mulish movement is spreading, from Muliboy to me and now to you. guard your secret carefully, for the magic of mulism is too much for mortal eyes to veil! I think the Animal Kingdom is in Disneyworld, in Florida, which is a lot closer for both of us than Sweden. Is there an Animal Kingdom in Europe? Maybe that would have some better animals, like wild goats or something, However, I know Disneyworld has dinosaurs. THAT's a big draw. I'm going to start getting some interest in Mulism, aka with pamphlets, emails, and notices pressed on car windows at my local shopping mall(s). I'll hand out some 'minianimals' to demonstarte the kind of stuff we might be privelaged enough to see at Animal Kingdom. We've got genious here, bebe. Let's roll with it.
I claim the presidential title of this movement, as for being the soul keeper of the true meaning of muli. The secret will never be revealed...... :bugeye:
Sneaking, creeping whisper into your ear: I am the machine Do unto others as I do unto you I will eat you I will break you I will hurt you as only hard metal can You will obey me fear me Be me Steel tyrant crushes its foe Heavy metal power never need to care Weak fragile ugly is all a human can be PsykYogology for the masses by Hazlan Hyperion :bugeye: Yes, that is correct. It is a secret word which holds much energy. Muli.. you are closer to the light by saying it Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
MULI I speak the word(s) caught from forefinger to stone rubbing, me in it Forefinger me in between grinding stone of you I (you tried can (he's coming! walk (Gerald got rid of his demons that ( no more freakish thoughts. is why (blank) (funny because I (never heard Gerald scream in pain can talk (he seemmed..well...normal to I so come (oh...he was pressured. here I have a toy- (well, sorry. I don't know how painful _______________dreaming (could be do you (what was Gerald dreaming about? love me are you a boy?
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! It's got kind of a hidden meaning, if you look into the symbolism that comes with the mechanics of it (placement of parentheses, etc.) I didn't mean to put that in; it was really just an 'animal instinct' poem (aka I just wrote). But now I think it's making a social statement, which is cool. This is the magic of Mulsim- when I go to write gibberish I end up with something meaningful!
Congratulations MuliBoy, you have finally gotten your first very own stalker, Congratulations...eh.... :bugeye:
Oh, Bebelina, and you're not stalkin' too? I'm just trippin, homedog, so stay on your own turf baby. If I would stalk anyone, it would be Chris Klein. He's worth stalking.
Lol, did I touch a soft spot? Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! I have no need for stalking here or anywhere , was just amused by your poem. Keep that poetry coming and keep on "tripping, homedog...baby". Erhum, excuse me for being swedsih , but what does homedog means?
The Golem of Shamus Levine... Okay Pollux V, you have convinced me. Here is one I am still working...Also known as: Thrombuldee Blitherop Thrombuldee Blitherop fleddled to town On a bicycled violin, On a bright, sunny day Did he pedal and play, And made everyone dance In their tie-waisted pants And come out from e’er whence they’d gone in. With boots made of newts and his hat made of fruits And a curly tailed crow on his chin, He jumped up and down Knocking holes in the ground, He hummed and he prayed As he fervently played, And fleddled his bicycle-lin. His clever disguise featured pinwheel eyes And a tail that rivaled a beaver’s: Three cumbersome collars Of green silver dollars, A bullet-shell belt & a halter of felt, And a dangling skirt made of cleavers. The crow on his chin sipped a bottle of gin And cawed a magnificent song: He gargled and flapped And kept time as he tapped, He danced and he twirled As his tail uncurled, And Thrombuldee fleddled along. The folks in the crowd held their breath as he bowed And grinned a remarkable grin: His teeth were like mushrooms, From ancient, hushed tombs His eyes were consumed, As if he’d been exhumed But his grin was as gracious as sin. The Sun slowly dropped, but the song never stopped For the dance was as merry as ever: They glowed with a light, Which was strange to their sight Cold light without fire, Without flint, wick, or wire ‘Twas an act they regarded as clever. All into the night did their funny light pour And the folks saw it plain So that none could ignore: The fleddling Blitherop’s bicycle-lin And the song-singing, gin-drinking Crow on his chin Or the furious fervor that held his crowd in. And from under the eves and the trees’ nodding leaves Fluttered moths of the Sapphire Honey: Ensnared by the fleddling, Flocking and fluttering Cornflower powder-blued, Indigo pearl-hued Makers of midnight blue honey. A tale was whispered in far distant lands And grew as a tall-tale grows Some said that the music Had maddened the folks, (Years later some others told fanciful jokes that the moths had devoured all their clothes…) Old Blitherop gurgled and gargled his song The crow cawing cacophony Folks simple or quite astute Each wore his birthday suit Nude as a bean Not a person had seen The blue moths change their clothes to blue honey! At long last the green glow of twilight had passed And the dim shawl of midnight hung thin So no one took note: Winked an eye, cleared a throat And no one gave heed Out of want or of need When the Rabbi Ishmael strode in. And gawking he stood (though he quite understood) Like he couldn’t believe what he’d seen: “Great Stars! So it’s true! For these moths are all blue, He’s returned with the crow How can nobody know: It’s the Golem of Shamus Levine!” If any had guessed they’d been doing their best To disguise any vague recognition For Shamus Levine Had long since been unseen And Thrombuldee seemed Like a man of esteem Not a fancy of fell superstition! And there's more to come, I haven't finished it yet, but I'll post it when I do...
Yoga you've inspired me to do 'improv' poetry...I haven't been following this forum though so I'll catch up in a 'momento.' Once there was a bee who would one day decree that he was not, but better, than a bee Away he flew from the swarm one day shouting in bee tongue: hooray! but as he shot in a yellow ray his friend's muttered 'he's gay' but he didn't hear anyway The forests around him were green the sun shown mightily in the scene It was then that the Better Bee sighed with glee Giggling about He just wanted to shout: "I am the better bee!" The last paragraph was JUST edited it....now let me see if I can recall a poem I wrote with some friends during english class. (I can't remember it at the moment but I CAN remember one my friend said) Muggle-Molly Something-toot Golly gosh! I like to poop. All of the poems we wrote that day were like that...needless to say our teacher 'caught us' and took them away, reading them to her much younger-than-us children. Great, great poem Yoga, since I bet you're waiting anxiously to read the responses I'll post this then edit it!
....and upon reading the poem it appears that I have MUCH to learn about writing poetry. I'll bee back:bugeye:
(ahem)(cough) Creativity's never bad, but, well, I suppose that poem is creative. You've got a lot of courage to post that on the internet (or even anywhere else). If I didn't know you, I'd think you were a loser....Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! But honestly- when you're doing 'improv' poetry, it's better to think about saying the feelings you are feeling at that moment, and not just about saying something quickly, with obvious skill for thinking up stuff up the top of your head. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! But, giving further analysis to the now notorious 'bee' poem, I was wondering who the bee was- was it you? I can tell from the egotistical characteristics of the bee (No, offense, but you've got to know by now that you have a huge ego, Pollux. Which, I suppose, isn't half bad beacsue you do seem incredibly intellignet, so although a large ego is never really 'justified', I am not angry at you for being egotistical in my own self-righteous glory.) Anyway, the one thing I would like cleared up is the nature of the following comment: Is the reference to homosexuality a joke, or with deeper meaning? (You know what I'm getting at here...ahem) I don't want to seem overly prodding or overly gay, but in a self-representational poem, what part of the self would that represent? (I'm in trouble now.)
To Bebelina: It's funny how you have no clue as to the vernacular terms 'homedog, or trippin'. It's kind of, well... I suppose Sweden is pretty homogenous, not many blacks, etc. But 'homedog' I suppose, is a very urban, African-American term. I live just a hop skip and a jump away from Harlem, so we have a lot of exposure to urban culture over here. Anyway, thanks for liking the poem. I got a little defensive with the 'Chris Klein' comment. When I feel threatened, I talk like a ho. (And please don't tell me you don't know what a ho is!)
congrats you are a funny goose...takes one to know one. No actually gay is kinda an insult and it rhymes with everything else Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! And yes, everyone I know says that I'm a very cocky, egotystical person but also very nice and sensitivePlease Register or Log in to view the hidden image! But not too sensitive :bugeye:
Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Of corse, no one could be too sensitive. Especially if they say things like 'gay is kind of like an insult.' Well, hmmm, excuse moi, mais je ne comprende pas ton preference pour deseragble. Tu as un grand fourche (excuse moi! Sacre bleu!- visage...ahem...Tu as un grand visage) Pollux V n'as pas d'amour, ou d'amour pour le monde. Je porte un beige pantalons, et un tee-shirt de arc d'iris. Pollux V, tu as un mal attitude.
Deux peuvent jouer à ce jeu, félicitations. J'aime le monde et la vie, et n'utilise pas gai comme insulte dans mon propre vocabulaire (mais AM entouré par les personnes qui ). J'ai une chemise noire de pièce en t et un pantalon brun. Ne cachez pas derrière le langage
Aaah, oui une "ho"....Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Et tu habit en Harlem? Avec le presidente? Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Oh, excuse moi, ton amour est Chris Klein...Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image! Pardon my french ...it´s been a while, a long while, since I had any use of the french I half did, half didn´t learn in college. But I think we do have quite an international mixture of people here in the capital anyway, but they don´t talk "ghetto". Well, the youths do, but then it´s sort of a mix beteween swedish with outlandish accent and expressions from the country they come from. Most of the immigrants here are refugees from war. I really liked your poem Yoga, made me think of dancing and singing mushroom elves. I think that poem belongs in film as a song. I think your poem was very cute too, Pollux. And there´s nothing wrong with being gay, it´s not an insult to be called that, it´s a compliment. Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
BTW I am a man of many languages- Deutscher, eine schönste Sprache Lingua italiana-dei romans, la gente più influente mai da camminare la terra Ou Portugese, um parente e vizinho ao spain uma vez grande. Y finalmente español, un lenguaje de emociones y el balanceo de lengüetas. Arrr!!! Bebelina! JE NE SUIS PAS GAI!! Je suis venu de New York mais c'est PRÈS DU POINT. Je veux dire, avancé, je ne m'habille pas dans Harlem, je suis un de l'adolescence, américain, nous ne nous habillons pas dans le tunics et des jupes hippy comme vous des Scandinaves!
