(pictured: me irl)
The Laissez F side
Staying non-right was alright
Had second hands, mods pounced for cold bans
So then we moved to Rhizzone land
A young goon, rockin the cold proof, yo douche
No need to pay, postin for free like young Jews
And let’s start it like this son, trollin with this one
And drat son, riling up libs for fun
on the forums was where i spend most of my days
chilling out, posting, relaxing all cool
chatting bout pomo and the frankfurt school
when a couple of identity politickers, they were up to no good
started making trouble in my neighbourhood
i got in one drama war and the mods got scared
they said, you're moving to the rhizzone so we can clear the air
In Laissez's faire the poppies blow
Between the upvotes, row on row,
That mark our posts; and in the sky
The threads, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the bans below.
We are the Bored. Short days ago
We lived, felt jokes, saw catvids glow,
Laughed at diapers, and now we sigh,
In Laissez's faire.
Take up our quarrel with the trans:
To you from flailing hands we throw
The keyboard; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who cry
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Laissez's faire
littlegreenpills posted:In Laissez's faire the poppies blow
Between the upvotes, row on row,
That mark our posts; and in the sky
The threads, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the bans below.
We are the Bored. Short days ago
We lived, felt jokes, saw catvids glow,
Laughed at diapers, and now we sigh,
In Laissez's faire.
Take up our quarrel with the trans:
To you from flailing hands we throw
The keyboard; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who cry
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Laissez's faire
flanders fields is the worst ww1 poem
Break of Day in the Trenches
The darkness crumbles away
It is the same old druid Time as ever,
Only a live thing leaps my hand,
A queer sardonic rat,
As I pull the parapet's poppy
To stick behind my ear.
Droll rat, they would shoot you if they knew
Your cosmopolitan sympathies,
Now you have touched this English hand
You will do the same to a German
Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure
To cross the sleeping green between.
It seems you inwardly grin as you pass
Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes,
Less chanced than you for life,
Bonds to the whims of murder,
Sprawled in the bowels of the earth,
The torn fields of France.
What do you see in our eyes
At the shrieking iron and flame
Hurled through still heavens?
What quaver -what heart aghast?
Poppies whose roots are in men's veins
Drop, and are ever dropping;
But mine in my ear is safe,
Just a little white with the dust.
aerdil posted:isaac rosenberg has a less jingoistic and more accurate poppy poem
Break of Day in the Trenches
The darkness crumbles away
It is the same old druid Time as ever,
Only a live thing leaps my hand,
A queer sardonic rat,
As I pull the parapet's poppy
To stick behind my ear.
Droll rat, they would shoot you if they knew
Your cosmopolitan sympathies,
Now you have touched this English hand
You will do the same to a German
Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure
To cross the sleeping green between.
It seems you inwardly grin as you pass
Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes,
Less chanced than you for life,
Bonds to the whims of murder,
Sprawled in the bowels of the earth,
The torn fields of France.
What do you see in our eyes
At the shrieking iron and flame
Hurled through still heavens?
What quaver -what heart aghast?
Poppies whose roots are in men's veins
Drop, and are ever dropping;
But mine in my ear is safe,
Just a little white with the dust.
weird al is white, skeeter is blue
that's not a parody poem, so fuck YOU
The darkness crumbles away
It is the same old forum times as ever,
Only a live poster leaps my hand,
A queer sardonic lurker,
As I pull the post's poppy
To stick behind my cisman's ear.
Droll lurker, they would shoot you if they knew
Your cosmopolitan sympathies,
Now you have touched this rhizzonite hand
You will do the same to a wddper
Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure
To cross the sleeping SomethingAwful between.
It seems you inwardly grin as you pass
Glazed eyes, withered limbs, haughty shutins,
Less chanced than you for life,
Bonds to the whims of trolling,
Sprawled in the bowels of the basement,
The cum-splattered walls of maternal houses.
What do you see in our eyes
At the shrieking insults and flames
Hurled through still forums?
What quaver -what heart aghast?
Poppies whose roots are in manchildren's veins
Drop, and are ever dropping;
But mine in my ear is safe,
Just a little white with the ejaculate.
The cum-splattered walls of maternal houses.
ha, i like your poem
His servers break down daily though;
He will not see me posting here
To trade upvotes with Mister Crow.
The spying feds must think me queer
To download the Goatse man's rear
I'll post it in a shitty thread
And into its abyss we'll peer
The forum's looking rather dead
With nothing that I haven't read.
I don't have a clue why the beep
I don't log out and go to bed.
My friend says I should check out "Veep",
But I have more dung for this heap,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep...
(With a lady again)
Edited by commodiusvicus ()
That Joey made and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for posting, do you?
It goes like this: the Qu'ran, the Hadith
Cis scum poke fun at diaper pics
Tpaine's avatar screaming "OHNONONONEHHH"
oh no no nehhhh
oh no no nehhhh
oh no no nehhhh
oh no no
no no no
nehhh
Smells the old familiar warning
He needs to sit upon a porcelain throne.
At the Taco Bell he likes
When he came in, they went on strike
But they're not unionized at Chimichanga Zone
Now he's leafing thru Ecrits,
While expellin' many shits,
They can tell on seismometers in Japan
"Tsunami coming inland?"
"Iya, sassoku Baby Finland"
Nothing gets his guts a-movin like Lacan
Tom is taking of business, every day
Taking care of business, a la boo-tay,
Taking care of business, his plumber's called Dave,
Taking care of business, he's unusually brave