Follow this link to read some of Julia A. Moore, AKA "The Sweet Singer of Michigan":Julia Moore is definitely right up there with the worst of the worst that managed to actually get into print and sell books. To quote from the reviewers: "The Sweet Singer's verse is concerned to a large extent with total abstinence and violent death -- the great Chicago fire, the railway disaster of Ashtabula, the Civil War, the yellow fever epidemic in the South. She sings death by drowning, by smallpox, by fits, accidents by lightning-stroke and sleigh. "Julia is worse than a Gatling gun," wrote Bill Nye; "I have counted twenty-one killed and nine wounded, in the small volume she has given to the public." She also greatly relishes normal infant mortality, especially in cases where the little victim possesses blue eyes and curling golden hair; but in her celebrations of the centenary of American independence she strikes the sterner Kipling note more than once. "
http://www.wmich.edu/english/txt/Moore/
Mark Twain, among others, found her stuff hysterically bad.
I wouldlike to award Bob a ribbon for using the word Logorrhea. Thank you, Bob.
:'(
Sniffle....
sniffle...
Wahhhhhhhhhhh.
There once was a duck from nantucket........
Yeah yeah, and Vikings were peaceful explorers. Wink
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
I had a bad love,
I mean I loved him, bad...
But he didn't notice.
Man it made me sad.
It was torture. Torture and more.
To be ignored, by the man you adore.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
He was a senior guy.
I was a freshman.
He made me want to die.
He had red hair
Like the sun did rise.
He was gorgeous, he nearly hurt my eyes.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
Everyday, up the sun came .
Everyday the sun did rise.
Then bus came, just the same.
I was the first pick up, surprise
I had to wait for the sixth stop
Where my heart did drop.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
He had a brother.
They shared a seat
With each other
I looked at my feet.
Every day, just the same.
Ever knowing, he didn't know my name.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
I've been married.
Since 1982.
Happily married.
So what can I do?
But explain bad love, and how
That bad love, even hurts right now.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
A year of sorrow, rejection, pain
A year of feeling, like I'd go insane.
A year of trying, to speak and fail,
A year of being wan and pale....
I but have to say here, there was irony,
Cause the guy I married, felt that way about me....
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It hurts. It hurts so
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
Like a slug. From a chainmail glove.
Bad Love
*guitar rip*
It can make you bleed. Just from the need.
Bad. Love.
*guitar rip*
You'll get your wish for more Turn Coat tonight at 2AM EST!
Also, you people are demented. :D
There are no weasels
Like toe weasels
Like no weasels
I know.
They find the scent
of toe jam so appealing.
The shoe vents
send them squealing.
Their teeth rents
send you to the ceiling.
They bite onto your toe.
They fight over your toe.
-- take it away, Ms Duck!
While it's easy to write mediocre poetry, writing bad stuff is much harder. Finding just the right pretentious term, forcing rhymes, inappropriate subject matter, incongruity, and insipid meter are difficult to bundle up into one work.
Angel Relic brag to me a curse
my quixotic verse made him gag
"Duck you hag, youve wrote worse
Then Kemmler with purse and in drag"
You know what?
Ducks are cool. 8)
You people are all Sick™. Which explains why I'm uncannily comfortable here.
Bravo! Bravo! *throws Piotr a rose*
Ode to a Dead Jalopy?
angel relic fights
against his writers block
damnit, got nothing. ;)
True evil, this is
To make all things haiku
Beware, Mooseburger!
(ugh, poetry. I feel dirty. :-[ )
in response to all this text speek, (wich i dont understand at all
((Blaze))
thank you Blaze
thats really sweet
no-way on earth
can I compete
My wit is stale
it's such a crime
I just can't write
in witty rhyme
there twas a lass with slash wheels
she hunted the stunted without appeals
she took out her axe
and with many whacks
made her keels into fine cannibal meals
;D
Stephan's Feast is Boxing Day
When all the cats come to play
In boxes left from Christmas stash
While humans wish they'd asked for cash.
It makes me want to curse and spit,
that a man can stand and hit
another with a rattan yard
and think it's fun to hit him hard.
And yet, the same male folk
get a boo-boo and whine and choke
and if a splinter they should take
can wake the dead with the fuss they make.
If writing seems to be a chore,
You should go and scrub a floor,
If your genius is in a quandry,
I suggest you do the laundry.
Cannot find the right bon mot?
chuck some chickens in a pot.
Is that wording still unclear?
Go and wash the Frigidaire.
If your writing you might shirk
come and do some nice housework.
If that doesn't prick your muse
get another, she's too obtuse.
"There once was a man from Madras"
when posting on a forum
one should choose an approproate thread
to spend their waking hours
and the ones they should have been in bed
they should choose a likely picture
they should choose their name with care
they should avoid adding personal details
if theyre not up for a scare
they should post with gay abandon
they should post with literary might
they should post with wit and wisdom
they should never post with spite
and when the day arises
that their posting time is done
they should check their posting status
to see how well theyve done
are they casual conversationalist
are they posty mc posterpants
are they posting more than neurovore
are they ever? not a chance!
I present, a brief lament for my favorite beverage:
Alack a day
Oh, woe is me
For Knudsen changed
Their recipe...