The Cellar - Poems- Not your own.

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- - Poems- Not your own. (http://cellar.org/showthread.php?t=16916)

Brianna made me think of this one:

If

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn't a lie,
Life would be delight,--
But things couldn't go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn't be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I'd be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn't be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,--
Yet they'd all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn't be we.

--e.e. cummings

Wondered if anyone remembered this. Sure you can google it but I really wanted to know if anyone remembers.

Dark and lonely on the summer night.
Kill my landlord, kill my landlord.
Watchdog barking - Do he bite?
Kill my landlord, kill my landlord.
Slip in his window,
Break his neck!
Then his house
I start to wreck!
Got no reason
What the heck!
Kill my landlord, kill my landlord
C-I-L-L
My landlord.

I have no idea.
Not a scooby as we say.

It's powerful.
And seems to ring a bell.
But I see it more as a lyric than a poem.
Shows what I know.

:)

I keep giggling. I've been going down a memory lane.

But it's actually a pome, not a lyric. Well, sort of actually. ;)

I like "not a scooby."

Here sometimes W33D is called 'scooby snacks.'

Mr Robinson Wrote that, bitch!

My Dad is Mr Robinson. As is my bro.
I think I might have recognised it.

I stand corrected. It was Tyrone Green

Couldn't understand a word.
Even knowing what he was saying.

Can I get a grant for studying American before I come on my US Road Trip?

Here's the transcript:

http://snltranscripts.jt.org/81/81aprose.phtml

Yes jim, Tyrone Green. When I first remembered it I was thinking it was a Garrett Morris skit. It's been that long ago! But we used to quote it and laugh our asses off. C-I-L-L...

Thanks for the video!

What made me think of it was you writing about your New Jersey accent and I remembered Piscopo's "You from Joisey? I'm from Joisey" bit, and my thoughts went from there.

But OMG Mr Robinson's Neighborhood. "My wife left me today. I'm so glad the bitch is gone."

Funny, funny, funny man.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Sundae (Post 803259)

Couldn't understand a word.
Even knowing what he was saying.

Can I get a grant for studying American before I come on my US Road Trip?

You can come to work with me. Crash course. ;)

Circus Love
by Paul Gilmartin

“Last call,” announced the barkeep
and then their eyes did meet.
Betty the Bearded Lady
and Tom the Four-inch Freak.
Tom lowered his voice and made a pass,
“What’re you doin’ later?”
Betty thought as she stroked her beard,
“Nothin’ sweet potater.”
People pointed, jokes were made,
but it fell on four deaf ears.
Tom thrust his tiny shoulders back,
and ignored the painful jeers.
“Betty,” he said, “The world can be
such a cruel, unfeeling place.”
She said, “I know my little punkin’,”
and kissed his tiny face.
She carried him through the parking lot,
to the woods that lay beyond.
Never before had either felt
such an instant common bond.
“Betty,” he said, gazing down at his tiny platform shoe,
“Tonight I would like nothing more
than to make sweet love to you.”
She said, “I’m a virgin.”
He said, “So am I.”
She said, “Don’t you think that’s weird?”
He said, “Not really, I’m four inches tall
and, you know, you’ve got the beard.”
She pressed him tight against her bosom,
he inhaled her perfumed air.
He covered her neck with tiny hickies,
and stroked her facial hair.
The moonlight danced off his cowboy hat,
she giggled and she swayed.
She undid his tiny rhinestone belt.
A cricket looked away.
She set him down, unzipped her dress,
still tipsy from the booze.
She tripped pulling off her panties,
and crushed him with her shoes.

Bearded Betty never married.
Her mistake sure took its toll.
She still owns that pair of shoes,
and Tom’s still in her sole.

:DYou're welcome.:D

Joo evah see Freaks? (Tod Browning)

I have no new poems to contribute.
I need to start looking again.

According to the world at large I had enough favourite poems to last a lifetime and make me a literary snob; who has a favourite poem, let alone many?!
Here I learned the answer. Even more. Ta.

Quote:

Originally Posted by infinite monkey (Post 803236)

Pensive Pam.

Crossing The Bar

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.