a place to post and comment on poetry

Archive for November, 2010

You're going down mikey

Have fun dude.

And please take down my picture you stole
before you leave.


Tom Bishop

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OT: An NSP that sells bandwidth blocks

Not sure how unique it is, but first I’ve seen.

See:       http://www.shared-secrets.com

An NSP that sells blocks of Gigs for various prices.
Pretty reasonable.

The more you buy, the less per Gig, of course.
Starts at 2.99 for 2 gig.  For 6.99 my account says
I have 16 Gig (should be 12 unless Robb is just being nice,
and he seems to be).

If you only used it for text, a few Gig would last for months?
…all year??  Depends if you killfile dockery and me.

I currently have my full standard allotment of 8 connections,
all frantically downloading nicely.

Tom Bishop

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The Awakening -I


        At the instant the sun aligns itself
        perfectly with the blinds in the window
        like a stream of straw-golden bullets
        each touching the next one lightly
        light dissects the somnambulist’s eye
        like a scream in a distorted perspective
        of a girl       of a bridge     of a distant country
        of a smell of brown hair and pining
        pinned against the yellow
        the inexplicably yellow
        grit of pines in heat
        released by the mid June madness
        let loose upon the blue
        lust falling in love with itself
        the echo                the sound       the familiar reflection
        flowing with the marrow
        mirrored in the flash of morrow’s flesh
        fingers clutching
        the overpass over a platform
        the locomotive’s ashen breath
        squeezing through cracks between the boards
        like the long fingernails of the ungrateful
        dead moments brought back to life
        by a wheeled wail of a going away
        so long so long         so long
        the receding rails reflected in the corridors
        whose walls come together in the end
        at the point where existence seems pointless
        the dying stagger through their vacant fates    
        unwilling to give up their ghosts
        they cling to the cold steel poles
        whereupon their last chance is hanging
        they desire to circle the sun
        like pit bulls whose fangs are clenched upon the pain
        as they are whirled about and by their master
        it is not they who break        it is the chain
        the double helix doomed to fail by time
        from the moment the comet sperm speared
        the Earth’s immaculate ovum
        and the first farrowing rain fell upon the parched the broken
        sundial of death


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Hey mikey, Dylan Thomas was a sickly neurotic kook, and a drunk

Why not make Dylan Thomas gay-sex humiliation pictures, mikey.

That might be fun for you.

And it would be legal, since he’s a public figure.

Tom Bishop

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Bloom: first draft. ~ Bindi.


How you liked to lean
your delicate head
on warm glass, face tilted
and blossoming in the morning sun,
while whispering your contentment
through the clear silica.

I conversed with you.
Me, about the weather, you
nodding in your window box
your murmuring acquiescence as loud
as the lifting wind.

We chatted through summer,
often well past mid-day, savouring
the season but avoiding the subject
of time.

Now, as your face grows ragged, torn
by the growing soliloquy of winter rain,
I’ll soon be alone

and the drumming
will be a meagre substitute
for your gentle conversation.


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Edelweiss: first draft. ~ Bindi.


You are so small
and pale
your snowflake petals
still wreathed with winter rime.

How do you grow
hinter flower
wedged in a crevice
of frigid earth
forever to bear
this ceaseless wind?

Yet, there you blossom,
and seem so steady,
so serene.


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Why I was right on Guantanamo Bay

I am a liberal democrat. I supported the actions of my government
who kidnapped people from far away countries that were vaguely
suspected or turned in by their neighbours as ‘terrorism suspects’
or who were just members of a foreign religious party my governement
didn’t like.

Now, 4 years later, many of them are still imprisoned without trial
and being tortured on a daily basis. That did, however, not change
my opinion on the matter. I will explain to you why.

First of all, I couldn’t have possibly known that a buch of powerhungry
neocons would start to torture people. I mean, I really thought Bush and
Cheney were nice and decent guys, because tha’s what it said in the papers.

Second, I think torture is ok as long as it protects us from evil.

The procedure of kidnapping people from others countries that belong to
a religious party one doesn’t like is entirely correct and in line with
the Geneva conventions. They’re enemy combatants! Rumsfeld is right,
they’re evil people! Evil people don’t need a trial. You don’t need
evidence when its clear that people are evil.

Therefore, as a shining beacon of human intellect, I can do no more than
conclude that my position on Guantanamo Bay stands unchallenged. We need
to torture people to secure our freedoms. Only by fighting the witches,
er, the terrorists we can be what we truly are: heroes that defend the
right to be better than everyone else and more free.

Joshua P.Hill

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$100 reward honestly offered

To at least the first person that emails me with
any AVI or WMV that (from mikey)
that contains my face  picture that he
stole and used on the other pictures he
and others post links to.

Under no conditions would I hit them myself
 at this point.   Like as if.

I hope it goes without saying how stupid I think these harassments are.

I have quite amiable conversations here, but from mikey I get nothing but a ghetto-moron trying to pick a fight.

And the /poetry/ fans cheer him on.

Not funny to me and truly sorry to people here
for poetry. (although killfiles work)

Not necessary, since I have most of what I need now,
but it would be great to have more of his theft in hand.


Tom Bishop

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The Road to the Apiary

                THE ROAD TO THE APIARY

                I remember us, father, in the summer of sixty nine,
                the rough, rut-scarred road to the apiary,
                miles out of town, my arms locked fast about
                your indomitable strength, the engine’s thrum,
                the rush caught in your cotton shirt, tassels of dust astern,
                the fields, ripe with the yellow blur of rape, the sky
                higher than anything a boy could imagine, the wind
                trapped in my mouth, the stifled question. — It took
                these thirty years to get to the sweet: we have arrived!
                the bees are coming back again, the dust
                at last has settled down. Look – it’s us,
                us in the summer of sixty nine
                on the road to the apiary.


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klaw will get the $100

Even though they only sent a simplistic
animated gif, and not a sexual defamation or
movie as requested, I’ll honor it..

The reward is still offered for sexual defamation usages.

A movie file or other depiction of a sexually defaming
nature, using my picture.


Tom Bishop

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