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Instant thoughts. (add yours if you like)

Does Pearl Jam inspire you? Post your poetry/prose and your personal music links here.

Instant thoughts. (add yours if you like)

Postby chadwick » Fri Oct 12, 2007 12:18 am

Drink me apple-tree and peanuts with pine-apple
Stand on a merry-go-round
Hold tools like a chainsaw is a cell-phone
Bring me a bucket of horse vomit please
This is for flowers, your flowers kill me
A grand mound eats my noise
Divide this atlas, take the water out
A camera will watch us become the gasoline they want
Why am I here throwing bowling balls at hummingbirds
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby Being Enlightened » Sat Oct 13, 2007 11:01 am

Sometimes those pesky bowling pins, spread their wings and fly like the wind.
Mmmm, horse vomit, get me the Comet, yeah, yeah, I'm on it, I'm on it.
Cemetary recycling bins, take all back to where all begins.
Doe-eyed drone, skin and bone, calling the esteemed Dr. Clone.
High and mighty superstars, showing off their crashing cars.
Crying, bleeding, tourtured walls, feel the falls, deaf to the calls.
Cat calls from the lunch line, Meow Mix at dinner time.
She feels no pain, thinks not of capital gain, she just waxes after she wanes.
Bend your ever-altrering mind, always just a step behind.
Sockeye Salmon hooked on junk, filthy punk, glass of milk please:double dunk.
"Right!" said Fred. Thought he was too sexy, now he’s dead.
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
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Postby justam » Sat Oct 13, 2007 11:46 am

Being Enlightened wrote:Sometimes those pesky bowling pins, spread their wings and fly like the wind.
Mmmm, horse vomit, get me the Comet, yeah, yeah, I'm on it, I'm on it.
Cemetary recycling bins, take all back to where all begins.
Doe-eyed drone, skin and bone, calling the esteemed Dr. Clone.
High and mighty superstars, showing off their crashing cars.
Crying, bleeding, tourtured walls, feel the falls, deaf to the calls.
Cat calls from the lunch line, Meow Mix at dinner time.
She feels no pain, thinks not of capital gain, she just waxes after she wanes.
Bend your ever-altrering mind, always just a step behind.
Sockeye Salmon hooked on junk, filthy punk, glass of milk please:double dunk.
"Right!" said Fred. Thought he was too sexy, now he’s dead.


wow :)

This moves well! :D
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Love is still the best state to live in.
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Postby chadwick » Sat Oct 13, 2007 1:57 pm

Being Enlightened wrote:Sometimes those pesky bowling pins, spread their wings and fly like the wind.
Mmmm, horse vomit, get me the Comet, yeah, yeah, I'm on it, I'm on it.
Cemetary recycling bins, take all back to where all begins.
Doe-eyed drone, skin and bone, calling the esteemed Dr. Clone.
High and mighty superstars, showing off their crashing cars.
Crying, bleeding, tourtured walls, feel the falls, deaf to the calls.
Cat calls from the lunch line, Meow Mix at dinner time.
She feels no pain, thinks not of capital gain, she just waxes after she wanes.
Bend your ever-altrering mind, always just a step behind.
Sockeye Salmon hooked on junk, filthy punk, glass of milk please:double dunk.
"Right!" said Fred. Thought he was too sexy, now he’s dead.


nicely composed.
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby chadwick » Sat Oct 13, 2007 2:31 pm

have yourself a ray of sun for tomorrow
never bring her gray clouds, but only candy
my apple trees taste like watered down salmon plasma
let the lioness drink your blood, mine is bunk

i do know where my chewing gum is now
i thought i had it with me, nope it wasn't
the computer desk has been chewing my gum
for the past 18 hours

spent the night in a seat, not a chair, nor a bed
it was so very comfortable for the owls hooting at me
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby chadwick » Tue Oct 16, 2007 10:12 am

Salmon rain down on me like these wet trees.
Once I remember being a fish.
Maybe this is why I am in this stormy fishery.
I now eat pink-meat, well, I always have eaten pink.
So was I a cannibal when I was a global swimmer? - (Probably).
Tomorrow, I do know this river, this creek, and this field we are traveling,
will bloom open our open highway of open life.
Be more than you are if you are.
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby chadwick » Thu Oct 18, 2007 7:28 pm

rainy wind phone dead calls
work tonight, no it doesn't seem to be
another night another coinless time-card
bring me some numbers
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby chadwick » Wed Oct 31, 2007 11:20 am

Old dying highways are for sale.
Buy 2 get 1 free.
Use coupons to buy the yellow & white lines.
If snorting these lines, go easy does it.
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby FinsburyParkCarrots » Wed Oct 31, 2007 11:28 am

Gotta soundcheck in an hour
better jump right in the shower
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Postby chadwick » Wed Oct 31, 2007 11:36 am

he used a cd as a frisbee
he used a frisbee as a cd

a large party, stereo & summer were cranked up loudly
darkness had fallen upon rural roads of gravel & corn fields
trees & picnic tables played cards
fire-pit-beer-keg-dancers were warm shadows
limp bizkit speakers bounce until eject button pushing time

he used a cd as a frisbee
he used a frisbee as a cd
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Postby chadwick » Thu Nov 08, 2007 6:05 am

Why do you and your side-kick have to rain on the dudes parade?
He's writing well and showing a lady he cares alot about his feelings.
Maybe you might wanna try this sometime if it's humanly possible for you.
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Location: up my ass

Postby chadwick » Sat Nov 10, 2007 9:18 am

Opening a closed window, I look around
What do I see
I see an empty tree, lonesome bird cries out
Living in time, sharing this time
A little in time
for poetry through the ceiling.
ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"this kinda thread reminds me of those people who set fire to their own genitals for attention" ~ dunkman



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Location: up my ass

Postby Jeanie » Sat Nov 10, 2007 10:18 am

I might be pissed and this is all a little bit hard for me, but carry on. :)
NOPE!!!

*~You're IT Bert!~*

Hold on to the thread
The currents will shift
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Postby catefrances » Sat Nov 10, 2007 10:27 am

standing at the back door
feeling the breeze on my skin
i manage a lopsided smile
perhaps its the wine dulling my brain
perhaps its the extreme late hour
i dont know
so many thoughts cloud my judgement
and i struggle to make sense of any of them
i called his number again but an disembodied voice said
this number is out of service...please try again...
i dont want to call again, i want to hear his voice NOW
i dont want to hear his excuse cause im thinking
the only acceptable one for his silence, is death.
Now what we have to understand is that this comes from an extremely clever and skillful program, that has manipulated us into ways of thinking that may be contrary to our own interests, but beneficial to the interests of the powers that be... beneficial to the interests of those who control our lives, and tax us until we have hardly a penny left to spend, take our money, and plough it into the creation of huge, armed bureaucracies, which exist to oppress us. We live in a society today where we may not make decisions, to explore our own consciousness. If I am not sovereign over my own consciousness, then I am sovereign over nothing.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhRQ3jEGz4c&feature=related
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Postby whispering hands » Sat Nov 10, 2007 4:50 pm

secondary thoughts become primary emotions
handouts are always welcome from the greedy and desolate
when the desolate hunt they bear the arms of their victims
victims make up the waves that break onto shores of the treasured.

things never seem to work them selves out when left to the hand of the mind in control.. why wonder when you can always just assume? why ask if the answer is what one already knew it to be? oh well.. just a thought..
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