Writings

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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

Crap :/


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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evs
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Re: Writings

Unread post by evs »

still strict. that was petty good actually.. even tho you killed her again.


~ plaid ~
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RW
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Re: Writings

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Changed

You say I changed.
You used to keep me company for hours
Talking about anything and everything
You have become so quiet

You say I changed.
You used to be with me in the evenings
Drowning out the blare of bad sitcoms
You made me a little less alone

You say I changed.
You used to be smart and funny
Making me look at things a little differently
You made me think

You say I changed.
You used to be kind and caring
Embracing with warmth and understanding
You made me feel loved

You say I changed.
You used to have a soul
Dancing with me in the darkness of space
You made me find myself

I say you changed.


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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Richard Kuklinski
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Re: Writings

Unread post by Richard Kuklinski »

Having spending the day in Universal with the missus we decided to check out Cattlemans Steakhouse. After being seated the fiasco began. To begin with we were made to wait at least ten minutes before someone bothered to take our drinks order. After receiving drinks our waitress decided to make an appearance and took our order. We both ordered the striplion steak, after which the waitress rattled off a list of sides (neglecting to mention that all these were extra). The steak was pricey enough to begin with, coming with a choce of fries, baked potatoe or rice, but everything else was extra, I mean who the hell serves steak without veg or salad. Even the pepper sauce was $3.95 extra. We decided to get a side of sauteed onions which cost $3.95 also, at this stage I at last came to the realisation that these people were most definately taking the p#ss. After receiving the steaks, which were ok at best, we discovered that our fries had been microwaved and must have been cooked at least an hour ago, I would have got more enjoyment from chewing on one of their napkins but decided not to incase I got charged extra for it. When the entire ordeal was over the waitress handed us our check after about 5 minutes of trying to push deserts on us. To our suprise we seen that an 18% gratuity had been added to the bottom of the check. Considering there was only two of us I found this pretty damn cheeky of them considering the rubbish service and substandard meal. In all we paid $75 for 2 sodas, 2 steaks and 1 side of onions (and we didn't even get salad or sauce with that)

I appologise for the long winded review, but if it saves even one person from the ordeal we went through then it will be worth it.


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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

Postponed.


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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RW
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Re: Writings

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The Monster

They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder
Which brought me to a man who's older
One little problem to say the least
Everyone claims this man's a beast!
So I must take a look and see what's here
Is he a monster that I need fear...?

Whenever I'm sad and feeling too down
He spams me with pics of an evil faced clown!
In poetry wars, the guy's such a cheater
He fudges his lines with the wonkiest meter
He makes me laugh heartily with his wit and his charm
Will that stitch in my side cause me much harm?
I get messages in the morning but wait here's the catch
They're just silly drawings in his bad chicken scratch
I can write him when I'm having a terrible day
But that bastard seems to know all the right things to say!
He does bring me roses but they're covered in thorns
I bet he sings in the shower while washing his horns

When I give it some thought, I think they are right
His care and attention have been such a fright!
I'm afraid I must tell you, I'm trapped so you know
I can't bring myself to tell this monster to go
It's too late for me! You must run for the hills!
Laughter's his weapon and he's racking up kills.


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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evs
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Re: Writings

Unread post by evs »

Edit.


~ plaid ~
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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

The Memory

The memory of the bank is deep
All those letters he must keep
A lurker's life he chose to lead
And always waits to plant a seed
But when he does, he must know
He only seeds his hate to grow


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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evs
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Re: Writings

Unread post by evs »

banks speak, river grows
an iceberg drifting slowly
the tip is waiting


~ plaid ~
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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

Lovely Haiku!


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?
"I am sir," he said
"Who will you blame for your fear
Once that beast is dead?"


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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asal
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Re: Writings

Unread post by asal »

http://libcom.org/blog/xulizhi-foxconn-suicide-poetry

Xu Lizhi was a migrant worker, in China. He committed suicide. Foxconn is a Taiwanese electronics manufacturing company. He submitted the poetry for his company newspaper (link at the bottom of this post so you can read about him).

《我就那样站着入睡》
"I Fall Asleep, Just Standing Like That"

眼前的纸张微微发黄
The paper before my eyes fades yellow

我用钢笔在上面凿下深浅不一的黑
With a steel pen I chisel on it uneven black

里面盛满打工的词汇
Full of working words

车间,流水线,机台,上岗证,加班,薪水……
Workshop, assembly line, machine, work card, overtime, wages...

我被它们治得服服贴贴
They've trained me to become docile

我不会呐喊,不会反抗
Don't know how to shout or rebel

不会控诉,不会埋怨
How to complain or denounce

只默默地承受着疲惫
Only how to silently suffer exhaustion

驻足时光之初
When I first set foot in this place

我只盼望每月十号那张灰色的薪资单
I hoped only for that grey pay slip on the tenth of each month

赐我以迟到的安慰
To grant me some belated solace

为此我必须磨去棱角,磨去语言
For this I had to grind away my corners, grind away my words

拒绝旷工,拒绝病假,拒绝事假
Refuse to skip work, refuse sick leave, refuse leave for private reasons

拒绝迟到,拒绝早退
Refuse to be late, refuse to leave early

流水线旁我站立如铁,双手如飞
By the assembly line I stood straight like iron, hands like flight,

多少白天,多少黑夜
How many days, how many nights

我就那样,站着入睡
Did I - just like that - standing fall asleep?

-- 20 August 2011

http://www.businessweek.com/articles/20 ... ctory-life
Before he took his life in late September, 24-year-old Xu Lizhi was a regular contributor of poetry to Foxconn People, the internal newspaper at his sprawling factory complex in Shenzhen. Only after he died did his writing find a wider audience, as factory friends collected his poems for publication in the Shenzhen News.

Like millions of other young Chinese, Xu left his home in rural Guangdong province in 2010 to find work in the big city; he had been working intermittently on Foxconn (2317:TT)’s electronics assembly line for four years.

Following a series of 14 suicides in 2010, the Taiwanese manufacturing giant installed safety nets to prevent workers from jumping off dormitory roofs at its Shenzhen plant. It tried to improve life for its workers: The company raised basic wages and installed basketball courts and Olympic-size swimming pools for recreation. Worker suicides declined but did not disappear


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asal
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Re: Writings

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:mad: so's your mother uncle.


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asal
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Re: Writings

Unread post by asal »

You see the wing
You don’t see the scaffold for the feathers
I’ve got a lonely little zebra
At the top of the bluff
Some of that lichen holds fast
When you jump
And you’re alone
You have a fast journey
Straight down
And you think
I wonder how the feathers are held to the scaffold?
And the zebra is fine all by itself


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evs
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Re: Writings

Unread post by evs »

Xu Lizhi poem and story is so heartbreaking..


~ plaid ~
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RW
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Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

Men Who Fucked Mud

Before the invention of jiggly things
Like Jell-O and silicon flashlights,
Men would have relations with mud.
It was yielding and made them feel dirty
Like the pigs they pretended not to be
As they wore their suits and ties.
Some clung to the earth even after
Wives had come and children were born.
Eventually their mucky minstrations
Dried up like the most appealing of puddles.
The grittiness was all but washed away.
Their muddy masturbations but a memory,
The cold, wet dirt still caked on their minds
Causing their balls to shrink inside them
And their tips to ooze a slimy smile.
Still, when rain beads on windows
And streams rush though gutters on the eves
You'll see even the oldest of men smiling at the sky
As they fondly remember their mud laying days


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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RW
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Joined: 28 Dec 2013, 21:09

Re: Writings

Unread post by RW »

RW wrote:The Monster

They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder
Which brought me to a man who's older
One little problem to say the least
Everyone claims this man's a beast!
So I must take a look and see what's here
Is he a monster that I need fear...?

Whenever I'm sad and feeling too down
He spams me with pics of an evil faced clown!
In poetry wars, the guy's such a cheater
He fudges his lines with the wonkiest meter
He makes me laugh heartily with his wit and his charm
Will that stitch in my side cause me much harm?
I get messages in the morning but wait here's the catch
They're just silly drawings in his bad chicken scratch
I can write him when I'm having a terrible day
But that bastard seems to know all the right things to say!
He does bring me roses but they're covered in thorns
I bet he sings in the shower while washing his horns

When I give it some thought, I think they are right
His care and attention have been such a fright!
I'm afraid I must tell you, I'm trapped so you know
I can't bring myself to tell this monster to go
It's too late for me! You must run for the hills!
Laughter's his weapon and he's racking up kills.
I still like this one :)


Just call me Little Miss Robinson.
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InkedAngel
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Joined: 10 Nov 2011, 06:16

Re: Writings

Unread post by InkedAngel »

Lemniscate


I remember the day you walked past me....for the first time...
My heart did the only thing it knew to do...
Begin that ancient cadence of thunder, rattling every shadow of my peace and demanding my attention in it's life's flight.
I heeded its notice and could have wept if I hadn't been so reeling...
Reeling from the beautiful you I had met in my dreams.....the man behind the boyish frame who grew with me.
You never knew, til now....
I knew you...before I met you.

In lemniscate, time does not exist
The lilt of words unspoken resist
Bodies whither, age claims defeat
Souls of waging, bitter weep

But...in lemniscate....adagio beat
Filling spaces once thought deplete
Breathless blending of thought and need
Weaving souls in one they bleed

In lemniscate...

I knew you...before I met you...
But oh....the day...we met...

Inky


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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asal
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Re: Writings

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Get in on it.
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InkedAngel
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Re: Writings

Unread post by InkedAngel »

The symbol for lemniscate is actually the figure 8. The symbol for infinity.


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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InkedAngel
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Re: Writings

Unread post by InkedAngel »

The Angel's Kiss


The witch procured her potion
With tenderness and ease

She prayed upon the moon goddess for that she wished appeased

She called upon her blackest dragon and spit upon the myre
To bring the pale and tender flesh of the angel she desired

She wove her words of lust and lash and clawed her aching skin
Her mouth a quivering slant to taste the beauty of her sin

The dragon crept upon the angel and whispered in her ear
He spoke of souls unencumbered
And circled as she grew near

He wrapped her in the timeless breath of heat within his bowel
And told of pleasures beyond her mind that soon he could endow

The angel fell upon her knees for never had she so lust
Waves of blood boiling hot and wet within her thighs did thrust

She clutched her sheath of heavens grace
Wings wrapping the demon tight

His teeth sank deep unto her breast
Her thighs did bind him tight

She howled unto the thunder that rolled across the land
For now she saw the demon was the figure of a man

No space between heaven and hell, the witch was full of joy
For now her beast had brought to her the lust of all her ploy

The angel limp in the witch's arms, she bent to kiss her lips
Her fingers gently probing the sweetest honey with their tips

Her lips met the angel's. Her heart was frozen cold
For in her raging wild desire, she forgot what ancients told

Beware the one desire of most
The beauty of your sin
For in the innocence of your kiss
Knowledge will surely win

The angel's eyes flared to life and burned a fiery red...
She wasn't just an angel...
But the darkness that you fed...


~Inky


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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evs
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Re: Writings

Unread post by evs »

InkedAngel wrote:The Angel's Kiss


The witch procured her potion
With tenderness and ease

She prayed upon the moon goddess for that she wished appeased

She called upon her blackest dragon and spit upon the myre
To bring the pale and tender flesh of the angel she desired

She wove her words of lust and lash and clawed her aching skin
Her mouth a quivering slant to taste the beauty of her sin

The dragon crept upon the angel and whispered in her ear
He spoke of souls unencumbered
And circled as she grew near

He wrapped her in the timeless breath of heat within his bowel
And told of pleasures beyond her mind that soon he could endow

The angel fell upon her knees for never had she so lust
Waves of blood boiling hot and wet within her thighs did thrust

She clutched her sheath of heavens grace
Wings wrapping the demon tight

His teeth sank deep unto her breast
Her thighs did bind him tight

She howled unto the thunder that rolled across the land
For now she saw the demon was the figure of a man

No space between heaven and hell, the witch was full of joy
For now her beast had brought to her the lust of all her ploy

The angel limp in the witch's arms, she bent to kiss her lips
Her fingers gently probing the sweetest honey with their tips

Her lips met the angel's. Her heart was frozen cold
For in her raging wild desire, she forgot what ancients told

Beware the one desire of most
The beauty of your sin
For in the innocence of your kiss
Knowledge will surely win

The angel's eyes flared to life and burned a fiery red...
She wasn't just an angel...
But the darkness that you fed...


~Inky
*goosebumps*................. :cry:


~ plaid ~
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Phil O Bat
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Re: Writings

Unread post by Phil O Bat »

SKYWAY RACERS

Two ballerinas ride the skyway
So graceful and so fair.
Racing along an unseen highway
Suspended in the air.

Brilliantly they glitter with hues
Pleasing to our sight
Rising above all woes and rues--
Pure freedom in flight!

They streak the blue with flawless grace
Each a masterpiece work of art
Each an aerodynamic ace
Like Cupid’s arrow to my heart.

On a transparent lane they run
Slicing to shred the skies
Cutting between earth and sun--
Blue and red dragonflies.

***
1980

I started to write poetry in 1969, when I was in high school. But since my first suicide attempt, in 1984, I've been unable to write a poem.


"Fun Fact: Penguins can actually fly

if you throw them hard enough.

Just like children." (Caelan Rondeau) :eviled:
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InkedAngel
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Unread post by InkedAngel »

That's beautiful Phil. Love it.


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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Lochdubh
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Re: Writings

Unread post by Lochdubh »

Glad to see you on the mend, Inks.


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asal
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Re: Writings

Unread post by asal »

Richard/RDL wrote:
asal wrote: :mad: so's your mother uncle.
This is the writings thread, not the insults thread.

Please keep on topic.
This is the writings thread, not the criticism thread.

Please keep on topic.


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Harrison
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Re: Writings

Unread post by Harrison »

Well Done.


So it goes.
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asal
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Re: Writings

Unread post by asal »

^That's a whelpy.


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InkedAngel
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Re: Writings

Unread post by InkedAngel »

Instruments of War

Pity not the imperfections placed upon by the Deity
For they are mere instruments of strength upon which Empires are built
Who in their self glorifying right ordained them none the like?
When each hurdle merely different than the last in their accomplishment meant only that soul fought longer, harder, more brave than the you...before the knew?
The you with absorbed ego and magic quill of definition by which you judge all others.
Peel back bare bones and expose the root of life sitting in wonder at which I'll keep.
Fear....your definitions dear, that cold immobilizing rush of being left....alone. Uninvited. Outside the wherewithal within.
And given the chance to change suit, would you change and begin again?
On the one, the soul an accolade of power...
The other not twice as nice with darkness in secret places.
And to breath this euphoric release within the palm of His hand
To pray upon His alter in hopes of keeping safe.


~Inky


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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InkedAngel
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Re: Writings

Unread post by InkedAngel »

Setting Sails

They drew from each other power like ships from the wind. Filling their sails and moving from swell to swell. Catching knots and pulling them in with each momentous gust. Moving them along each other in silken groans and shudders where horizons were endless and eternity never seemed far away.

On occasion the sun scorched and singed. They settled in their coast with reflection and heat casting smolders in paper pasts billowing up their masts and flames danced giving homage to the devils and setting them in their sin.
The snarl and creak of their souls sharing the swirls of damnation and swallowing them whole til the clouds came...
Casting shadows upon silk liquid and drenching them in heavens rain ....
Tied one to the other...they glide on black glass counting constellations back to Orion's belt.
And when dawn cracked the lazy sky there they were, .....still together....
Reminded that eternity was not so far away...

~Inky

P.s. good mornin guys!


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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