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Nasty

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  4. Last post wins

    in Last Post Wins (formerly Spam Stables)

    Posted

    Eat up:

    You need your strength

    Go to school; you've got to be brave

    Chase those vampires back into their caves

              and stay strong: this world needs you 

     

    Beat up:

    Anyone who offends you

    Do it now; you might not get another chance to

    Besides--they deserve it, almost as much as you do

    So beat up.

    Throw your body into the gears of this machine, that

    Spits you out terrified of human beings, but

    It's only love--I think it's what you need

    So throw your body into the gears of this terrifying machine

     

    Drink yourself ill (on more than one occasion)

    Buy a puppy (even though you'll outlive its lifespan)

    And watch its life disintegrate in your hands

              But stay calm: it might help you

     

    --Foot Ox

    • Like 1

  7. Last post wins

    in Last Post Wins (formerly Spam Stables)

    Posted

    I almost owned @Fawkes to take over LPW but his sheer shrewdness and affinity for madness duped me in the end. I was utterly  o w n e d. Sadly he has since departed after I resoundingly stole out from under his nose the last post on the 2200th page--USING ENTIRELY FAIR TACTICS--earning myself like thirty-five bucks I think? That of which I spent on what I endearingly call 'welfare beer.' Ever since then, Fawkes has been fighting back a crippling onset of depression in his hidey-hole. 

     

    Nothing can fill the void, however < : I not a single drop of welfare beer could staunch the flow of my tears over the absence of the ABSOLUTE MADMAN.

    • Like 1

  19. Last post wins

    in Last Post Wins (formerly Spam Stables)

    Posted

    Examination at the Womb-Door by Ted Hughes

    Who owns those scrawny little feet?    Death.
    Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face?    Death.
    Who owns these still-working lungs?    Death.
    Who owns this utility coat of muscles?    Death.
    Who owns these unspeakable guts?    Death.
    Who owns these questionable brains?    Death.
    All this messy blood?    Death.
    These minimum-efficiency eyes?    Death.
    This wicked little tongue?    Death.
    This occasional wakefulness?    Death.

    Given, stolen, or held pending trial?
    Held.

    Who owns the whole rainy, stony earth?    Death.
    Who owns all of space?    Death.

    Who is stronger than hope?    Death.
    Who is stronger than the will?    Death.
    Stronger than love?    Death.
    Stronger than life?    Death.

    But who is stronger than Death?
                              Me, evidently.
    Pass, Crow.

     

     

    why can't my paper be on this poem instead?

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