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**OFFICIAL RANDOM THOUGHTS POEMS AND RAMBLINGS THREAD**
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2015-09-21 at 4:43 AM UTCThis thread will be designed for us to post the aforementioned relative writings in the thread title.
Whether it's a sploo-esque nonsensical memoir, an elegant bit of poetic pleasure to tickle our fancies, or an epiphany that suddenly came to you during the morning beer shit; please feel free to share the cringiest, pointless, most meaningless thoughts your sordid mind can produce.
Stimulant-fueled pages of mish-mash-hosh-posh to single-word posts are all welcome. Just let your heart go. Feedback is encouraged but not required. :D
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2015-09-21 at 2:53 PM UTCHere's a nice poem for your thread mQ.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
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2015-09-21 at 6 PM UTCNot bad not bad. I will counter with:
Some have spoken of the end times to be dark
Some say beautiful.
From what I've been known to remark
I'm apt to believe it indeed will be dark.
But if were to happen thrice,
I'd want both beauty, night, and strange
To speak of how peculiarity
Doth make my day
And brings hilarity. -
2015-09-21 at 6:12 PM UTCNo matter how many pancakes you put in a doghouse a motorcycle still doesn't have doors.The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2015-09-21 at 6:40 PM UTCif cotton candy tasted like ossuposums people wouldn't eat them as muchThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2015-09-21 at 6:47 PM UTC
if cotton candy tasted like ossuposums people wouldn't eat them as much
If more kids came out like you people wouldn't let them live as much.The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2015-09-21 at 6:49 PM UTCI'm a gremlin felt out nightless and dealt out weightless, tasteless, grateful for nothing but the something within my apelist, shattered horizon, cries and lies raisins and reasons becoming the season I never was once outright convicted of treason the seasoning on this grapefruit is atrocious. Gross bitch. Don't look at me in the eye when I'm skull fucking your apple pie treasure trove sea stove we know my knee grows out of control like happenstance personified and milk maid fairies go on and cry silly boy silly goat billy goat gruff living under your bridge acting all tough but the truth is you're soft like a tissue and if we were one I would certainly miss you.
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2015-09-21 at 6:54 PM UTC
Not bad not bad. I will counter with:
Some have spoken of the end times to be dark
Some say beautiful.
From what I've been known to remark
I'm apt to believe it indeed will be dark.
But if were to happen thrice,
I'd want both beauty, night, and strange
To speak of how peculiarity
Doth make my day
And brings hilarity.
As i laid my head to rest
A sense of dread, I was aghast
A shadow that was cast
Of ghosts and monster of the past
Enveloped me at last.
Before I could ask why
I knew my time was nigh
The darkness stark and wry
It comes for you and I
Dang. -
2015-09-21 at 7:04 PM UTCquiet rodent
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2015-09-21 at 7:08 PM UTC
quiet rodent
HA -
2015-09-21 at 7:17 PM UTC
HA
again i'll say it again, quiet rodent -
2015-09-21 at 7:20 PM UTC
again i'll say it again, quiet rodent
Or what? -
2015-09-21 at 7:41 PM UTC
As i laid my head to rest
A sense of dread, I was aghast
A shadow that was cast
Of ghosts and monster of the past
Enveloped me at last.
Before I could ask why
I knew my time was nigh
The darkness stark and wry
It comes for you and I
Dang.
I am consumed by vague entities; breaching my skin, hating, burrowing, digging, reaching.
Cry I do but they hear not, they persist with no remorse, a twisted a passion
Pain is one thing, misery is another
I long for, long for my mother; her warmth, her love, the opposite of these devious creatures encompassing my being
Will I find a way?
Will they eat me from the inside out?
I lay my head down, close my eyes, sigh heavily and consider
I am not meant to be, I am meant to do, but what I do, was never meant for me. -
2015-09-21 at 7:54 PM UTC
I am consumed by vague entities; breaching my skin, hating, burrowing, digging, reaching.
Cry I do but they hear not, they persist with no remorse, a twisted a passion
Pain is one thing, misery is another
I long for, long for my mother; her warmth, her love, the opposite of these devious creatures encompassing my being
Will I find a way?
Will they eat me from the inside out?
I lay my head down, close my eyes, sigh heavily and consider
I am not meant to be, I am meant to do, but what I do, was never meant for me.
That last sentence was bootyfool. I'll BRB with another poem, if i can think of something that is. -
2015-09-21 at 8:01 PM UTC
That last sentence was bootyfool. I'll BRB with another poem, if i can think of something that is.
Take your time cutie pie. -
2015-09-21 at 9:12 PM UTCI love sad poems so i made up another one.
Empty rooms and picture frames
Haunting memories are what remains
A solution that once seemed so strange
Has since absolved me of my pains.
But i'd consider myself blessed
If somehow unexplained
I could hold you once again
And see what i have left
Inside this cage they call a chest -
2015-09-21 at 9:17 PM UTCPlumbuses. Everyone has a plumbus in their home. First, they take the dinglebop, and they smooth it out with a bunch of schleem. The schleem is then repurposed for later batches. They take the dinglebop, and they push it through the grumbo, where the fleeb is rubbed against it. It's important that the fleeb is rubbed because the fleeb has all of the fleeb juice. Then a schlami shows up, and he rubs it and spits on it. They cut the fleeb. There's several hizards in the way. The blamfs rub against the chumbles. And the ploobis and grumbo are shaved away. That leaves you with a regular, old plumbus
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2015-09-22 at 1:51 AM UTCwhy do we need a thread like this? I pretty much do this all over the entire website.
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2015-09-22 at 1:55 AM UTCNo one appreciates my poems of epic sadness and creative genius but mQ. fine... FINE You don't even deserve to enjoy them, i'll have your guts for garters.
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2015-09-22 at 2:58 AM UTCSophie they aight
