theJABBERwockyEXPERIMENT
Experimental writing, art poetry site, presenting dada, surrealist material, irrational rant, rumour and ridicule ...for oh yea and oh yea/did he gradely speek his speek/and in paraliptics did he spoke his speek/in a way way and roundybouty way/and for all those who could understood his overstanding/which was mandy/upon them did he fall his flood of good/and upon those whom missed his bandwagon/which included the philipsteins/and the christmaslights...
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Fetch, You Feverish Fidgit, And Bring To Me All Of Your Maladjusted.
"Poetry must be made by all and not by one." Lautreamont.
Poem Six.
Your skin glows suckle
and across it blossoms wild Scatterskate
like the Dockadilly
in hopeful spring
As you leave the room
my heart follows your gallish voice
and leaps like the Liffy Barbtooth
when you call my name
Then
as evening
upon it's great windspan wingspun
comes falling
I am greatly comforted by your cute
buttoned up buttondown
that I carry into the scanglebeams
and hold there tenderly next to my buttus
And
as the scrapelines from my badly
shoemold fall
I wait outside for your secret
flinch, so that we may
codangle together
bonypart
to bonypart
each reaching out in search of
a magnificent flimsey
each reaching out in search of
the mythical plucker of love
This poem assisted by:
Love Poem Generator. (Link here and make your own.)