Bad Poetry (NOT Written by me)(I Swear)

[Bmichael]

December Fourth Ever since the day we met you've always been on my mind From your enchanting smile, those big blue eyes and your nature that's always been kind You've taken me to a place in my life that I thought could never exist And the moment was truly perfected when you sealed it with your kiss We've been together a long time in both good times and bad Even though some times were uneasy it's been the best six months I've ever had My love for you grows every day and I'll be yours until the end of time I'd like to think that I'm very lucky because a catch like you is hard to find Contributed by: [e-mail] <Helen Sawatzky>

[Carol T]

"it's been the best six months I've ever had"

Yep, a lifetime.

[Marilyn]

Oh, c'mon, Bmichael --- you know you love it and we know you wrote it!

And yes, 6 whole, entire, long-lasting months, who'da thunk?

[Bmichael]

Ha!

I only wish I could be so deep!

[Bmichael]

The Man Stood Leaning...

The man stood leaning against the subway car doors all calm and collected. He got off at the next stop, a reason for his arrogance. The doors closed and we were off, myself, the train and the people. Of course, how could I say we when I didn't know a single soul. The man at the door was gone before I knew it, and so is the man sitting right in front of me. Dark shades, Buggs Bunny on his chest, a walkman, running shoes and a bag. The kind of bag that could hold a portable computer. He is as gone as the other. I don't know a thing about him. Is he human or is he animal? Shaved head. I still don't know. I look closer at him with quick glimpses. A change in pose, but he fades away. A little pudgy. Fades away. Quiet. But so is everyone else, everyone who is alone, but all together on the train. No one makes eye contact, no one communicates communication. Sometimes I wish something crazy would happen on the train, something exciting but non-threatening. Something that would provoke communication. Shades don't help, neither does a walkman. Maybe I do know that guy. Maybe he's that guy who is afraid to make eye contact? Maybe he fears communication and eliminates it from his vocabulary by drowning out the sounds words make? A loud horn. His shades are up, he looks around. Maybe he just thinks he's cool, but can't communicate it well. I suppose what's up doc is not long hand. A simple mistake, logically reasonable. He's eating his shades. I have no problem with people who choose to put things in their mouths, but when I hear the contact between teeth and thing I begin to feel like a fly on the wall moments away from throwing up. Trying to make an exit but the doors are closed and we are in motion, the train is still moving. Some more loud horns and rhetoric over the P.A.. The shades are back on, the man is in business. He taps his foot to the clack of the train, no, to the beat of the music. I don't like him.


Contributed by:
Andre Russell
<[e-mail]>

[Westerly_2]

Whoa! A polluted stream of self-consciousness. where do you find this stuff?

[Bmichael]

A polluted stream of self- consciousness? Well said!

And I thought it was just crap. :-)

[Carol T]

Sounds like it was written for an English class by someone who is failing the class. ;-D

Flies can't throw up, can they?

[Bmichael]

I dedicate this gem to M...payback for not taking us to Italy!

Lament of the Baby Bird

Mommy gave me one last worm,
And pushed me from the nest.
I flapped me widdle wings
As hard as I could,
And fell down on me chest.
I see the kitty coming now,
He's ready to digest.
So I'll see you in heaven, mommy,
I know you did your best.


Contributed by:
[e-mail]

[Marilyn]

Whew! Sounds like MY mother! And truly terrible. Grazie!

Widdle M.