Life is like Mad Libs
You choose to experience
Orange poop or Blue love
by mandingo of flarptongongle
I would fuck myself.
However, my dick's too short.
So I bang your wife.
Merry Christmas! ;-)
by Anonymous Poet
ha ha ha ha ha,
hee hee hee ha hee hee
ho ho ha fuck you
by frenchy
Live life like light lice.
I do not know what that means.
You figure it out.
Is life meaningless?
You must give meaning to it.
Hero or villain.
I flop my dick out.
Wave it all around and shout,
"I'm a perv, no doubt!"
Eating Christmas ham.
Would Jesus have approved it?
He's a Jew, you know.
by df, in the season spirit! of North Pole, lending a hand
if i understand
right there is a believer
in the meaningless
ness of life here and
here there is one who believes
this life is temporary
by vhs
ah but might as well
"enjoy it" whilst we still have
time to do so and
maybe leave this world
a better place than we left
it, oba dee, oba da
by vhs
Write or die? Bullshit!
Everyone dies. Leaving.
Words behind their mind.
by Mork of Boulder
i've been stuck on this
haruki murikami
guy for quite some time
why, i have no clue
i guess i like weird writers
and need to catch up
that's why I'm glad you're back dpf
by vhs
what i find troubling
is there's so much to read out
there in my genre
sci fi to say the
least, i am not sure if i will
get the iceberg tip!
by vhs
no i'm glad i did
it was very amusing
it's called comedy
by vhs
I bet that you wish
that you had not taken the
time to read all that
by Anonymous Poet
Hyperbolic junk
went clunk in the function trunk.
I'll go be a monk.
Edgar Allen Poe and I had been out drinking and partaking in various substances all night long... we were in his Porsche which is not a good car to go out hogging in. So, he went home (not too far away) to get his Mustang. We were taking these real porkers back to Ed's country cottage and we'd been smoking some opium and who knows what else... Edgar tries to roll a joint while driving and he loses control of the car, breaks through a barb-wire fence and we're speeding through this field at I'd guess 70 mph. And we're heading for this huge fucking oak, and I thought we were all goners, but then I yelled, "Poe! A tree!"
by Anonymous Poe-it
i feel like life is
this game people play before
we all pass away
and when it is done
and over, the game is done
no more playing, peace?
by vhs
tomorrow never comes
because tomorrow is the
day always ahead
by vhs
today is the day.
or maybe it's yesterday.
but not tomorrow.
by tomorrow is too late
let the lone wolf pine
I suppose like a clique does
then leave and relief
or wonder well what?
what happened to so and so
stories are social...
by vhs
i take myself way
too seriously at times which
is why "break glass for
custard pie in emergency"
thank God i like custard
by vhs
if the excesses
of the past are a problem
all you need to do
is add your ingredients
to the stew
by vhs
When was the last time
you went outside to breathe air
instead of to shop?
by DF
Anger in excess
overwhelms serenity
and kills all beauty.
by DF of On a wave. Forever.
Bad Haiku was once
entertaining, funny even.
Alas, no longer.
by frenchy
coffee coffee coffee
seems to be the blood and
bones of many a mind
from the fast food joint
to the convenience store
to the truck stop
to the boutique selling
to upscale hipsters on the nod
and tourists
john clellon holmes
he didn't expire
he just had to GO
by vhs
but i can't focus
on just the dark side because
it's not the whole scene
not the whole picture
mistakes, triumphs, births, noys
a breath of fresh air
and demon spirits
taking the form of youth and
a King of Kings
I gotta believe
by vhs of something called spacehog
it feels like that those
folks who survived the hope and
excess of xxx
get more toned down but
I wish today's gen knew what is
being lost with all
their twitter twatter
by vhs
why do these great minds
decide to give in to some
moment of weakness
and just leave as their
epitaph a few tortured words
on line or on page?
by vhs of :(
if i were to end
my existence like hunter
or ernest before
I became a name
would i become a legend
if I blew my brains
out after a few books?
or what if I didn't do that
and decided life is
worth living? why do they
kill themselves, isn't suicide
a fucking cliche?
by vhs
style is style, I like
letting it out shouting out
freestyle fun, floating
by vhs
what if I actually do
fucking keel over and die?
that'll give you one less
person to fuck around with huh?
by vhs
Ronald McDonald
and the Hamburglar affair.
Tabloid scandal sleaze.
by Darth Gaydar
Give thanks to Jesus!
Twenty plus centuries past.
Christ the King was born!
Shout it from the rooftops or get wrapped up in your Christmas wrapping.
"Hey, Santa, pass us that bottle will ya' ?" -- Jethro Tull
by Anonymous Poet
Slow down a little.
Or hand a sign on your neck:
All fucked up on meth.
(Or coffee and Dunkin Donuts, same thing really.)
Food anti-culture.
Hot dogs and cheap Budweiser.
Bloated belly belch.
Ah, what have we here.
While pig's away, sheep will play.
I work way to much!
So, VHS, on a serious note and all bullshit and fuckoffery aside. You seem like you're easily angered by low-lifes and assholes and I just hope you take care of yourself because, well, we don't want you keeling over on us. Ppl who get so pissed off at things tend to have hypertension. Just take care of yourself is all I'm saying. I was having that problem myself, but mostly from overwork and not eating right. (Back to the food culture thingy.) Relax, laugh, enjoy life. Regardless of how bad you think things may be, you can still get out for some fresh air. Do it now. The internet can suck the life out of you if you let it.... Okay, more work coming in. F. Big F.
by DF
Smoke. Smoke smoke, smoke smoke Smoke smoke, smoke-smoke-smoke, smoke. Smoke. Smoke smoke, smoke smoke. Dope.
by frenchy
team so and so
versus team such and such and
i don't wanna play
werewolfs and vampeers
and wtf happened to
the masquerade? shit
replaced by the worm
sparkly vampires and lycans
but ain't that fans
fantasy lovers all
woof woof and bite bite
and mine's methodist
by vhs
unto me you got
the cd and the vinyl
recording spirit flesh
by vhs
because some of the
haiku is actually "good"
before facebook whores
took over the net
and don't know no bettah and
twitter about facebook
by vhs of look mah i took a dump!
you have the same god
damned contempt for poetry
I do food culture
we're fucking people
who showed up here over the
years and I can ask
you who are "evil"
who the fuck are you, if you
are you are, so shut
the zen up and add
your own crap to this so called
badhaiku.com site
by vhs
What the fuck happened?
Where is all the poetry?
Aren't you all poets?
I'm not inspired.
I think I'll take a big poop.
And then I'll eat it.
Yummy yum yum yum.
Juicy brown poop in my tum.
Recycling food.
by Anonymous Poet
I'm wanting "the past"
to come back as a big well
appreciation
for irony and
how that can go along with
sincerity bites.
by vhs
not sure who sheena
is but this one is a man in
theory on this end
by vhs
Sheena? Is that you?
Now posting as... VHS?
A blast from the past.
by Frenchy
I'm still here, I just
take different forms and post
slip sliding away
by vhs
A decade later.
Does Grandma still have a cock?
What else have I missed?
by frenchy
Something is wrong here.
We want to know what it is
Can someone tell us?
by Doggie of DenCo
Bowling for dollars
Might make me wanna holler
Caucasian scholar
by Doggie of DenCo
Ten plus years have passed,
What has become of Sheena?
Ash? Anybody?
by frenchy
and do not forget
the punch bowl, wassailing
the senses and the lights...
(it it rum or vodka, but make mine a causausian larry)
by vhs
sing hallelujah !
first we had divine presence
then divine presents
by ash
formatting atwist
what horrid gremlin is this?
my ill fingertips?
by kredyt hipoteczny
Shirley, you're joking!
Sorry, I had to say that.
Yeah, dogs are nasty.
Were there shiny strings
of aluminum Christmas
icicles in it?
Make me believe it.
Add these little details.
Make me see the puke.
;-) Merry Christmas!
by Big Bad Bloody Bodacious Boogers of Plowing the Booger Farm
Cat barfed a hairball
Dog ate this disgusting thing
Nasty animals
by Shirley Smothers