

We Are SoWe are so caught up in categories, cut up and cauterised Compartmentalised and conceptualised,We Are So
Cast in concrete, concerned with creating Correct constructions that correlate cleverly And clearly with classifications
We are so guiltless in grouping, granting gravitas to gender and and with grating gratuitous guile gilding those generally gorgeous sexual gourmands with grievous, garrulous good-speak such as gender-queer, gay and gender dysphoric.
We are so proud of precision, perfecting the process of placing people in proper, pedantic places and proclaiming


Perfection is a ProcessTransfigured by transgression, These times now seem a dream, Strange and transientPerfection is a Process
This strange interplay, fluid and free Of God and Goddess intertwined Was taken from me
Replaced by some new master switching transgressive for transcendent Scribing new sutras to a lusty buddha
New enlightenment in the call of sweat And the caress of burning leather Rutting, bathing in your own flesh
Each touch a panacea for a Goddess lost Each word shivering with enlightenment released Each act, an epiphany ablaze within


the violence starts againThe violence starts again, And I am blind although I see Through the vast interceding gulf I reach across my hand My hope for you, my little lost How I would hold you, build for you A fortress, a tower strong and tall And keep you safe from everything The violence starts again, And I cannot keep you safe,the violence starts again
Lost in the infinate gulfs of space Lost in the pitiless grasp of time We're torn apart once more The violence starts again.


phlegmatic humourI often am gripped by a humour phlegmatic, And sometimes I grant this can be problematic, When scholarship pulses a most urgent need Yet still from a cage of malaise can't be freed What finer pleasure than soft sleep can there be When dreams are enchanted with visions of thee Sweet Morpheus rests ever close to my frame For this torporous state he's surely to blame Why for the sad waking world should I care When sleep finds me warm in the arms of a bear?phlegmatic humour


Song of myself1. I am here, in the now. I see all; I am the blade of grass, lost in a flowing meadow of grain. I am drift in the sea and sing this song of myself.Song of myself
The world passes by, a freight train on the tracks to nowhere, never stopping to admire the roses, never turning back to reflect upon the past.
I am the passenger, the man waiting, in a tattered grey hat, plaid overcoat and scuffed loafers. The train arrives but I do not get on. 2. Different colored souls surround me, some black like the blackest wood on a chilly December night, others bright as the drops of morning mountain de
The Escapist
Devious Comments
Wow! You really are a brilliant poet, aren't you?
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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Dragons unite, we have work to do!
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Do you ever wonder whether sometimes, lying there at night, the Queen pulls the covers right up to her chin and calls out to her husband "Look, Philip! I'm a stamp!"
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Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
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life is like a pie...it hurts just for a second...
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Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
It's like internet masturbating.
You get that little thrill of pleasure when you see you have a new comment - then you realise that you gave that pleasure to yourself.
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Do you ever wonder whether sometimes, lying there at night, the Queen pulls the covers right up to her chin and calls out to her husband "Look, Philip! I'm a stamp!"
Isn't life grand?
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Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
I know you.
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Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
--
Dragons unite, we have work to do!
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
--
Dragons unite, we have work to do!
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
--
Do you ever wonder whether sometimes, lying there at night, the Queen pulls the covers right up to her chin and calls out to her husband "Look, Philip! I'm a stamp!"
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
Between a set of asterisks.
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Do you ever wonder whether sometimes, lying there at night, the Queen pulls the covers right up to her chin and calls out to her husband "Look, Philip! I'm a stamp!"
--
Iambic Pentameter? Knock that shit off!
If I rhyme on more time, I think I'll puke -cough-!
- Klunk
Keep your eye out on the 22nd of July, because then it's Actual Pi Day (22/7).
I don't even know how I run across these things.
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Do you ever wonder whether sometimes, lying there at night, the Queen pulls the covers right up to her chin and calls out to her husband "Look, Philip! I'm a stamp!"
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