[x]

Hard at Work (drunk poem)I hired a man from the yellow pages
to cut my lawn, as I've simply no time
to do it myself. But he came over
dressed as a policeman, and told me
I had been bad. Oh my, and then...
...nevermind. No more shall I call
Men - Hard at Work, again.

Thank god my lawn is gated;
the neighbors, what would they think?

To a believer.Fancy me a fool?
Some sort of ass or mule?
You've got to be kidding,
when you say an invisible force will do its bidding.
In the winter you give children toys;
but your clergy bugger little boys.
But oh wait there's more,
funny ones, they bang their heads against the floor.
Blow up buildings for something they read in a book,
wonder how cunning was the writer,
bloody clever crook.

They're all the same,
innocent people they blame.
Aren't you a bit too old,
to believe the madness you are told?
This weird obsession,
of believing in one.
Look at the Greeks,
they had many- now that was fun.

Every time they open their mouth,
even more nonsense th

Sophie and Phillip's pesterlog-- CheckeredFlynn [CF] started pestering SharpShooter [SS] at 10:08 --

[10:08] CF: Hey Phil :3

[10:09] SS: umm..yeah..hi. (:

[10:09] CF: Watcha doin? o:

[10:09] CF: As in, you know. Besides being all cool and shit c:

[10:09] CF: Have you reached the God tier yet?

[10:09] SS: nah..

[10:09] SS: I'm just here taking a break from a troll's still buggin' me about that shit

[10:09] SS: like, how I'm all going to be powerful and stuff

[10:09] CF: You WILL!

[10:10] CF: Dude, I'm a fucking Mage of Blood!

[10:10] CF: what can be more fucking stronger than that?!

[10:10] SS: You did got your self killed in that un-cool, sleeping, rock bed ri

1Z Listu do Zjednoczonych Krain.
"[...] Pokonaliśmy Niszczyciela dzięki Poświęconej. Osiem krain kiedyś oddzielnych teraz się zjednoczyły. Woda, Morze, Światła, Mrok, Ogień, Wiatr, Czas no i epicentrum Wiara. Cykl ten zakończył się ze śmiercią Adhary Poświęconej i Sana z Ahmalem którzy byli Niszczycielami. To daje nam nowy cykl. Cykl Talizmanu Mocy. [...]"
Plac ćwiczebny Akademii Jeźdźców Smoków był prawie pusty. Na środku areny stała dziewczyna miała zamknięte oczy. Jej czarne włosy z grana

COLLAB POEM 3I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: It's raining, oh it is indeed
You@All: MY LOVELY STEED,
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: I think i am in great need
You@All: OF HORSE FEED
I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: On seeds
I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: That bleed
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: I am filled with need
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: of feed
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: and seeds
I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: On your bleed
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: and your indeed
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: full of feed
You@All: and weeds
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: and bead
I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: With greed
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: i need
You@All: to plead
TACOSAUCE THE GREAT@All: with greed
I BE ZORA LOLOL@All: That we'd
You@A

Goodnight, CthulhuSing a song of madness,
An Old One never dies.
Four and twenty Shoggoths
Baked in a pie.

When the pie burst open,
The guests began to scream.
Wasn't that a wicked dish,
To complete Dagon's scheme?

Lord Cthulhu sleeps in R'leyh,
And sees us in our dreams;
Nyarlathotep babbles in the dark,
And feeds upon our screams.

The cliff-ghasts now are flying free,
Hunting for fresh meat;
And if they catch you dreaming,
Your doom will be complete.

Pome to MortBlurble and blargle!
The fungle's like marble...
The flustig is blowing,
And such is the way,
Of stating your case,
When reason holds sway...
It's not that I'm jaznick,
Or terribly garblous...
Or wanting a chat,
or something quite farblous....
So whenever your fungle
is open to air,
and your blushniks are blushing...
Without any fears...
A short danggly missive,
portraying, your wishes...
will suffice to inform me,
(oh it's just so delicious!)
Of when you're on, netwise..
so both of us, (gleebly)
can verily cheerably,
greet appositely,
and nothing unsightly
shall mar the endeavour
when gaily, together,
We'll mingle our rhymes....

The reason that students must learn history"Sir! Why should I learn history?"

I gave him a clout with my knuckles.

"Oh! Why are you hitting my head?"

Again, I gave him a clout with my knuckles.

"Shit! Why are you hitting my head? Why should I learn history?"

The student protests again. I put out this splendid answer.

"If you did not remember that you hit, When I hit you again, Could you avoid?"

PeoplePeople jump, dance, and fly.
They can be happy or they can cry.

They have pets like dogs and cats,
And dress them up in funny hats.

They learn and think,
And eat and drink.

At night they make theaters ring,
When they act, dance, and sing.

Then they go home and sleep,
By counting many little sheep.

OnCe UpOn A mOtHeRfUcKiN tImE OnCe UpOn A mOtHeRfUcKiN tImE tHeRe WaS a LiTtLe MoThErFuCkEr.

ThAt GrEw Up SuRrOuNdEd By OtHeR lItTlE mOtHeRfUcKeRs.

tHeSe OtHeR lItTlE mOtHeRfUcKeRs WeNt OuTsIdE tO pLaY a KiCkAsS mOtHeRfUcKiN gAmE.

tHe MoThErFuCkErS fOuNd A bUnCh Of SqUaRe ShApEd MoThErFuCkIn MiRaClEs.

ThAn EvErY mOtHeRfUcKeR dIeD bEcAuSe ThE mIrAcLeS wErE tOo MoThErFuCkIn AmAzInG.

tHe EnD.

hOnK :0)

Off TopicIt all started when I was 13 years,
7 months, 2 weeks,
4 days, 6 hours,
12 minutes & 14 seconds old.

Wait, now that I think about it,
now it would be 15 seconds.
16. 17. 18. 19.
20. 21. 22. 24.
Crap, forgot 23.

Shoot,
Where was I? I lost track...
I think I was at 20-something...
Wait, wait, wait, hang on.
What story was I telling again?

Got What's Coming To YouYou broke my heart,
Ripped it to shreads,
Threw the remaining pieces on the ground,
Then stomped on it with evil joy,
Cackling as your foot squished it,
A twinkle in your eyes,
That screamed happiness,
And without any care at all,
Ran off to your new boyfriend,
Leaving me behind with a broken heart,
But that doesn't matter as of now,
Because I'm happier than I ever was with you,
Now that I've found a girl that likes me,
For the real me unlike you,
Who wanted me to be a different person,
And now I can laugh at you,
Because your boyfriend did to you,
What you did to me,
And I'm in his debt,
As I asked him to do it,
Sorry babe but you got what w

To Be a Writer“Mother!” I say
Triumphant,
At 12 standing ten feet tall,
Above my Mother,
Who expects the answer to her question soon.
“I!”
A dramatic pause.
How very detective novel of me.
“I am going to be a writer!”
Mother laughs,
No doubt because she is proud,
My daughter,
The writer,
She thinks,
Imagines tonguing the sentence out to her friends.
No doubt she thinks I’m brilliant.
Oh how devilishly smart of me,
To already know exactly what I will do!
“Writing is a good hobby.”
Yes! Is is isn’t it! Just brilli-
Wait, sorry?
Come again?
“You can’t build a career on that.”
She concludes.
Indignant,
And more than a little bit hurt,
I spit “why not” at her,
In a tone which I assume will make her flinch.
I am heart broken that she does not.
“Well,” Here she begins to wash the dishes,
because the matter is soon to be ended.
“It’s doubtful that you’ll be good enough.”

LampOnly the porcelain shards lying around the shade
Offered that this was more than just
A typical garbage day. The workers were too absorbed
In their regrets and shames to study the interesting aspects
Of the disposal,
And the children went back to their ball game.
So the event passed and history’s library listed it as
“Nonexistent,” but life was wrong: the lamp
Was chauffeured across town, its final destination the dump,
Where it sat beside a rotting banana peel and gleamed in the sunlight.

“That pleasant shiny thing,” the birds cawed,
Never thinking that their well-know distraction
Was an elegant ancient covered

Don't you dareRoses are red
I really don't care
Lay a finger on my love
And you'll go flying through the air

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No matter what time of day or night it was, Harriet was to be determined to annoy Smati. Or at least, it seemed that way sometimes. Sure she knew there was something important going on with the other saints, but Smati actually had some important intelligence for Harriet this time. Stuff that REALLY couldn’t wait until tomorrow, no matter what the elf at the door said. And so, she’d rather unceremoniously let herself into a meeting of the saints. She was quiet about it, Harriet was going to be mad enough with her barging in like this. Quietly melding with the shadows, the were moved around the room until she was behind the dro

Ambrosio in HellDarkness, darker than the darkest night, deeper than the depths of the ocean was nothing and everything. Darkness was, and reigned. Darkness was Ambrosio’s every conscious notion. Eternity had come and gone, or so it seemed, and still He languished. His tormentors had left him only after six days and seven nights, He knew the passage of time only from the Demons that did attend him. In the day the demons touch burned like fire. In the night, their rotten limbs froze him to the core. For those long days and nights they had tortured him to his limits and beyond, pulling, stretching, twisting, and morphing his malleable Soul so that

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From the Cat

by ~kuroinami, Mar 22, 2008, 7:22:03 PM
Literature / Poetry / Humor / Free Verse

String up my brother and box his stupid ears
Why does this make me feel so wonderful?
No more will I suffer at his unfeeling feet

He must never say I am the perfect feline companion
Nip him always
And cough up a hairball on his nose

Crazy little boy pounced

From the Catby ~kuroinami

Literature / Poetry / Humor / Free Verse

©2008-2013 ~kuroinami

This is a little poetry that appeared on the refrigerator one day. It was obviously from the cat to my brother. I don't think he's noticed it yet. Sometimes I wonder which of them is smarter.

By the way, you can see my brother at

The cat does not have a dA account.

~eldestmuse May 20, 2008

I think the commentary was funnier than the poem XD

Not that the poem was bad. The commentary was just that awesome.

Reply

~kuroinami May 20, 2008 Hobbyist Writer

*giggles* Well thank you. I'm glad that you enjoyed my little bit of humor

Reply

*TakJak Apr 10, 2008 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

That's cute. And awesome. And adorable.

lol~

Reply

~kuroinami Apr 11, 2008 Hobbyist Writer

Hehe, glad you liked it^^

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