Hi, i’m andrew. I’ve been a poet since about last week… and now for your pleasure, i’m going to contribute poems for you guys twice a week. Feel free to contribute or express your own opinions.
Stewie
Your eyes are like fire,
Dazzling, Deep, and Dirty,
Rawr.
But I must pace myself because fire burns.
Just like my heart… for you.
Your lips are moist when you lick them,
The saliva dripping down your chin,
Together, we’d make beautiful kin.
Our lives are like hemp.
Ow! My love hits me.
Across my sexy knee,
I love you forever…
And leave you never…
-Andy
The inspiration for this one, was this kid in my math class said he was more Cyrano de Bergerac than i was… so i wrote him a love poem to prove to him that i was super sensitive.
lol i feel like putting i think the only poem ive ever written.
What is this feeling
it sticks like something lodged in your throat
Worse than insomnia
Everlasting sadness that doesnt disserpear
Why wont it leave me?
My soul is in pain over something so trivial
I long to feel it
The way the eyesight goes blurry
The mouth starts to twinge
And then
All the sadness and emotions are free
I long for that moment
The End, sorry if its alittle sad.
Trev
one little
two little
three little unicycles
four little
five little
six little unicycles
seven little
eight little
nine little unicycles
the circus must be in town
Ok guys, I’m not sure if you’re ready for this but I also write poems on my spare time…unfortunatly these poems do not appeal to the mass public…
but they’re not as bad a Vogon poems lol!
Murde, are your poems in french cause i know Mont. is like half-half, and since french is the language of love… i would love some french love poems. I think my next poem will be french with an english translation… and so c’mon, share…
I’ll try to come up with a french one if you want.
But for the time being I’ve got a really juicy one in the working…
Yeah but if you provided a transaltation then it wouldn’t sound as pretty and it wouldn’t ryme.
Alright Wormington, (sorry about the lack of accents, i’ll just put all of the passe compose to infinitif for any -er verbs for the rhyming part)
18 Juin.
Aujourd’hui c’est ta fete,
J’espere que vous n’a pas d’inquiete.
Ma fete est pendant l’Aout,
J’espere d’avoir une nouveau cou,
Mais ceci n’est pas tout.
J’aimerai avoir une phoque,
J’aimerai avoir un grand coq,
Est ceci un choc?
Votre pere est un homme merveilleux,
J’espere que votre fete est… tres… joyeux.
While I won’t translate this… it pretty well talks about someone’s birthday. And it’s funny.
Haiku Restroom Graffiti
When taking a crap
The wise man always checks first
The paper supply.
if I had an armadillo
I wouldn’t use it as a pillow
it’s unpleasent for the head
use it as a foot-rest instead
All this is if the armadillo is dead
If he was your pet before,
you should’ve kept him fed
animals’ve got needs you cant ignore
let them out of the house too long
and you’ll find him dead at your door
I don’t like dead things so I sing this song
and hopefully Mellick’ll follow me along!
ARMADILLO, NOT A PILLOW!
ARMADILLO, ISIN’T DEAD!
AREN’T WE HAPPY
HE WAS SLEEPING!
SO HE WON’T BE A FOOT-REST INSTEAD!!!
WE’RE HAPPY! CAUSE HE WAS A VERY GOOD FRIEND.
I’M VERY SORRY ARNY GUY IT’LL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!
YAY! Arny’s alive!
Nice poem Murde, here’s a love poem for Jen.
Jungle Love.
J-J-J-Jungle Love,
It makes me mad, it makes me craaaaazy.
You’re as beautiful as a dove,
Or maybe a daisy.
My heart is running like a wolf,
Chasing down it’s prey.
This ain’t no time for golf,
You’re as beautiful as Georgian Bay.
I can climb thing pretty well,
(Just ask Mandi).
I just hope I can reach you on your pedestal,
Because i’m sure you taste like candy.
Or if not candy then something smooth,
Like apple juice or Pepsi.
My heart for you is like epilespsy,
And i’m changing in a telephone booth.
Cause with you i’m like Superman,
I’d do anything, I’ll prove to you I can.
You’re like a drug, i hope they never ban.
Jen, I’m your biggest fan.
-Andy Mellick. (super star)
right there my brotha…it touches me right there…
good stuff, good stuff…I’ll see if I can come up with an actual good poem tommorow…tha one was made up on the spot…
no no no… i really like your Armidillo one, it was super fun to sing!
Po et tree
Ahem… A poem, about something, but I haven’t decided what it is yet:
I miss you darling,
Like the rain misses the stream.
I need you,
Like a geek needs his Slashdot.
I will never be complete without you,
I can only be complete with you.
I want to be your man,
And we can raise our kids together,
In a nice little house iin the country.
I know you want kids…
I’m sure I can have them, someday.
No, wait! Don’t leave!
The doctor said I’ll be fine!
All my equipment will work!
There’s no permanent damage!
I swear to God I’ll never try another suicide mount again!
She left.
With a flip of the finger…
I feel sad…
Simpsons are on tho…
That will cheer me up…
But I need ice for the groin first…
Whoa Nick, that was super.
The Beach (dun dun dun)
Nikki and Peter sittin’ at the beach,
Each had dug their little niche.
They made their chairs out of sand,
And listened to a travelling band.
But when the band left,
They opened their eyes.
It was like theft,
A MILLION BARE UPPER THIGHS!!!
Everyone was naked including the life guard,
Their skin becoming red… and then charred.
Not a single one worrying about the sun,
Everyone was naked except for one.
His name was Andrew and he wore tights,
And he was flying almost seven kites.
He let them go to pick up the chicks,
He litterally threw himself into the mix.
He had his skill and did it with care,
He did his pose and looked like a doll
And asking: “Have you seen my beach-ball?
I last saw it over there.”
That was his line,
That’s all he had.
Andrew was fine,
Oh Boy he was bad.
Peter was angry cause Nikki stared,
Nikki got up… would she dare!
She walked up to Andrew and said “Movies. Now. Let’s go.”
But Andrew’s like: “Phh, no.”
-Andrew Mellick
BUUUURN! NIKKI BUUUURN!
It’s just short of seven,
This ain’t no heaven.
It’s almost dinner,
That’s right… not supper!
I can’t say that i follow soccer,
Had no pin-up in my locker.
But tonight i’m for Greece,
I’ll have no peace.
What if some Italians come over,
They start a fight? I’ll knock em’ over.
Like a dove, they’ll cry,
I won’t even have to try.
I’ll kick they’ll kiesta,
While at the fiesta.
I got my mojo,
Go Greece go.
-Andrew Mellick
Sporks.
Yeah, sporks are for dorks
Gotta make you’re mind up man!
what’s it gonna be?
spoon or fork?
Yo man what’s the deal?
can’t you see what’s wrong?
this problems real!
these things don’t get along!
They’re like black an blue
You gotta stay true
to what is right
two things aren’t always alright
when they’re together
it ain’t always for the better
I like my utentils apart
It’s crazy to make one two
it’s like kung fu
with a can of lards
farts and martial arts!
So people people!
make up your minds!
use spoons for soop
and forks for rinds!
Sing it with me! SPORKS FOR DORKS!
SPORKS FOR DORKS!
WE DON’T NO DUMB UTENTILS!
WE DON’T NEED NO WORD CONTRAPTIONS!
I SING THIS WITH THE VOICE!!
THE VOICE OF ABSTRACTION!!!
GOD, GIVE US FREEDOM OF CHOICE!!!
OOOOhhhh YEEEEEEAH!
~Owen
I’m starting to think that you’re a better poet than I am… i tip my helmet to you man, cause you’re so super. You’re like a blade of grass. Standing out as the only one not cut. Fresh as a gentle breeze, you sway in the wind but never break. You gather your thoughts like roots and water and you use them to make yourself more beautiful than ever. Your words are like the sound of wind when you stand with your face to it, mystical…
I’ll try to one up you tomorrow.