引用自 Bayaz First of the Magi：

I think we can all agree poetry sucks

nope, poetry is cool.

"Babels of blocks to the high heavens tow’ring,
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flow’ring,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.

Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable by nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor, that rots in the sun.

Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and scrambling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.

Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal,
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the burden of Pluto’s red rune.

Tall tow’rs and pyramids ivy’d and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber’d streets;
Bleak broken bridges o’er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick tide retreats.

Belfries that blackly against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac’d,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the waste!"

The Cats By H.P. Lovecraft

"For Christ's sake stick it up your ass."
-T.S. Eliot.

Young Simba: I don't know who I am.

Old Mufasa: Remember `who you are. You are my sun and the one true king.

引用自 salamander：

引用自 Bayaz First of the Magi：

I think we can all agree poetry sucks

nope, poetry is cool.

"Babels of blocks to the high heavens tow’ring,
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flow’ring,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.

Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable by nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor, that rots in the sun.

Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and scrambling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.

Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal,
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the burden of Pluto’s red rune.

Tall tow’rs and pyramids ivy’d and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber’d streets;
Bleak broken bridges o’er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick tide retreats.

Belfries that blackly against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac’d,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the waste!"

The Cats By H.P. Lovecraft

Oh, I know all about Lovecraft's cats...

'The Rats in the Walls'; what was Delapore's favorite cat's name again? I have a feeling it wasn't originally "Black Tom"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rats_in_the_Walls

引用自 Rain't：

Oh, I know all about Lovecraft's cats...

'The Rats in the Walls'; what was Delapore's favorite cat's name again? I have a feeling it wasn't originally "Black Tom"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rats_in_the_Walls

yes, i know. lovecraft was a deeply mentally ill racist, this is not news to me. i still enjoy his works and poetry while simultaneously recognising he was not a good person.

引用自 salamander：

引用自 Rain't：

Oh, I know all about Lovecraft's cats...

'The Rats in the Walls'; what was Delapore's favorite cat's name again? I have a feeling it wasn't originally "Black Tom"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rats_in_the_Walls

yes, i know. lovecraft was a deeply mentally ill racist, this is not news to me. i still enjoy his works and poetry while simultaneously recognising he was not a good person.

A good person, you all going to die for your sins.

引用自 talemore：

引用自 salamander：

yes, i know. lovecraft was a deeply mentally ill racist, this is not news to me. i still enjoy his works and poetry while simultaneously recognising he was not a good person.

A good person, you all going to die for your sins.

well golly i hope so, otherwise whats this whole "life" thing been all about?

remember the poem with the men who tried to tear down the wall to rescue the girl trapped behind it, only to die twice before finding out there was nothing there? that one was pretty good. otherwise, a dream within a dream and all that. i liked poe's prose more but the poetry wasn't bad either.

"You lay in the bed,
an arm full of tubes,
a mind full of drugs,
but still thinking.

You see the figure
enter the quiet room
and you lift your arm
and focus your mind.

You ask the doctor,
if it can be arranged,
that your last day
not be your worst day."

Request by Thomas Ligotti

And ever, as the story drained
The wells of fancy dry,
And faintly strove that weary one
To put the subject by,
“The rest next time -” “It is next time!”
The happy voices cry.

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out –
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Some poems are fine,
Others are poo.

Roses are blue
Violets are red
I gotta go to the bathroom

everything's blue in this world. the deepest shade of mushroom blue. all fuzzy, spilling out of my head.

"Everybody get up, it's time to slam now
We got a real jam goin' down
Welcome to the Space Jam (Space Jam, Jam)
Here's your chance, do your dance at the Space Jam, alright (alright, alright)"

Shut Up And Jam Gaiden by Charles "The Chuckster" Barkley, bringer of the chaos dunk

Sometimes I keep forgetting that T-Pain could actually sing well without autotune. But I think he is the exception and not the rule.