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"pronoun" poems
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Municipal Gum
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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9
It's a wide open art, from the start. Rules are for schools. Dont fret em, forget em. So Relax with a syntax, clown around, with a pronoun. Squeeze the ****** of a dangling participle. Free flying like geese, creative words release, make it up if you please. Example--the plural of mice is meese. Flowery language isn't the exclusive domain of the professional writer, it's for everyone! To continue then, about the writers pen. No write or wrong, nothings too short or long. Mangled, bungled, butchered, bumbled, don't matter. We don't need a librarian to admire what we have done. Words aren't hard, fling them unbarred. It's not arithmetic, or teaching a cat a trick. Crunch them uniting, mix them combining. Fling them, meld them, Verb them, sell them. We don't need a New York Times best seller to enjoy the art of writing. Uncrate it, create it. Use it, and abuse it. Don't bar us from a thesaurus Or a dictionary. The spiel is to write real tell the tale seal the deal. WORD HATERS live in the town called Fictionary.
0
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Writing with words. Fling them around if you will.
So in this Month your Heart begins to press For Good October promises your Due Thinking of Delight and Travel Costs less, And finally meeting her through and through Her arm must have healed, given Time's duty No more must such Fortress wall you apart Her, Blessed Pronoun who cheers you truly On her own Springboard she performs her Part As you guide Witness to her own Unique Craft, That Guideline which does greatly Inspire Now look! Her Swan whips the Air; And the Draft Begs humbly deep its legs to retire. Your Hug was her Reward; Then the Flannel Covers your Cheers on the Upper Panel.
0
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - ELEVEN - TOM DALEY
It was just a pronoun It was just a mistake I didn't mean to call you the gender people thought you to be I'm still going through the change I absolutely did not mean it I meant to call you she Not he I know what you are now You're a woman Stuck in a man's body
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
Pronouns
"Look at my beautiful girl." This title is thrown at me and I find it hard to breathe. You label me a girl, I know you know no better but it still wounds me deeply. "Look at her, she's so pretty!" You should know better than to call me this pronoun. I asked kindly that you use different pronouns but you throw these pronouns at me in a taunting manner. "You were born a girl so you are one." I was born a human with female genitalia. I do not classify as a girl or a boy. I classify more as me, as an agender. Please don't yell or shout or tell me I'm wrong because then you're saying you know me better than I know myself and that may be true but I don't believe it is so.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
Pronouns
She is the vindictive snow Beautiful, cold causing her chilling touch to leave me numb She creates an overload of dopamine for me But like I said she left me numb She compressed limerence upon me The concentric feelings I have for her  linger This contours her opaque heart Leaving her pliable words lay rendering in my mind She applies this solvent to it leaving me broken Forlorn she left me Yet, the tactile, numbing sensation keeps me going For she is the one I love Causing our hearts to be diptych artwork off our hinges.
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
The Pronoun Game.
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
0
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
I non Q
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
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105
I want you to make me feel naked everywhere saying things that make necks hot, face hot don't have to be so ****** don't have to touch Want to? Do so, though, don't be so mechanical swim on, flow on, spill on, no pushing the things said should tear open, pop seams wonder what's inside,  beating running, ebbing, draining, no inspecting, no prodding a thorough investigation with  eyes, words make the most difference, words dig the farthest fill the fastest, reach to ends that previously had no end the end
0
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Pronoun.
you are a: you her she a an i it but, w i shi ng ; i hope (someday) you might be a mine
0
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 10:51 AM UTC
pronoun
We are who we are We love who love us We love who hate us We love our Gender Call us Girls Call us women Call us Ladies We are TransWomen Stop being confused Stop being surprised Stop calling us He or It We hate that pronoun We are females we as others We deserve our rights like others We deserve love and affection We deserve Respect like others We are tired of your nicknames "Is a he or a she", "what is this?" It hurts please stop stop stop! We are fine ladies! Full stop ! You scared our fellow ladies They are crying in closet They are lonely in families Because we are Transgenders! Stop abusing my brothers They men and so proud to be Don't be confused by what you see A transMan is a powerful Man! Respect them now and forever Stop calling them ladies or things They are men **** and classy They are men always and forever See us slaying down town We are lovely and attractive We know who we are friends You can't change us Sit down! Don't be confused by Breast That the **** chest of our brother! He is strong enough to be proud We love our bodies and gender We won't hide because you hate us The more you see us feeling proud The better you understand us We are Proud Transgenders! We ladies need our Freedom Government think about us All women are equal in the country We need all care and attentions! Stop calling us Monsters We are human beings We deserve our Rights We are citizens like others! This ain't western culture This ain't Sodoma and Gomollah This is the gender of Us We are Proud Transgender people! Pastors stop that hate preach That hell you need us to go in That Sodoma you always sing All were from Those Bibles If you accuse all LGBTI people To bring back ***** or Gomollah First remember that bible you read Was brought by Evangelists We had gods and goddesses Africa knew no White God We had Love and respect Read , reread and Rereread! Love wins and will win You are taking us nowhere We are here to stay and slay Ourselves Genger our Pride We are done by your hate Is our time to shine bright! You gonna hate us today And you will love us later! TransWomen are women TransMen are Strong men Transgender is a Gender Respect us we hurt no one! "Transgender Right is Human right TransWomen are women too TransMen are men as well We claim no war but our Freedom We claim no hate but our Respect" Poet : Skylar G Peter Poem: we Are Proud Transgender people
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May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 4:15 AM UTC
We are Proud Transgender People (a poem by a trans refugee)
We are who we are We love who love us We love who hate us We love our Gender Call us Girls Call us women Call us Ladies We are TransWomen Stop being confused Stop being surprised Stop calling us He or It We hate that pronoun We are females we as others We deserve our rights like others We deserve love and affection We deserve Respect like others We are tired of your nicknames "Is a he or a she", "what is this?" It hurts please stop stop stop! We are fine ladies! Full stop ! You scared our fellow ladies They are crying in closet They are lonely in families Because we are Transgenders! Stop abusing my brothers They men and so proud to be Don't be confused by what you see A transMan is a powerful Man! Respect them now and forever Stop calling them ladies or things They are men **** and classy They are men always and forever See us slaying down town We are lovely and attractive We know who we are friends You can't change us Sit down! Don't be confused by Breast That the **** chest of our brother! He is strong enough to be proud We love our bodies and gender We won't hide because you hate us The more you see us feeling proud The better you understand us We are Proud Transgenders! We ladies need our Freedom Government think about us All women are equal in the country We need all care and attentions! Stop calling us Monsters We are human beings We deserve our Rights We are citizens like others! This ain't western culture This ain't Sodoma and Gomollah This is the gender of Us We are Proud Transgender people! Pastors stop that hate preach That hell you need us to go in That Sodoma you always sing All were from Those Bibles If you accuse all LGBTI people To bring back ***** or Gomollah First remember that bible you read Was brought by Evangelists We had gods and goddesses Africa knew no White God We had Love and respect Read , reread and Rereread! Love wins and will win You are taking us nowhere We are here to stay and slay Ourselves Genger our Pride We are done by your hate Is our time to shine bright! You gonna hate us today And you will love us later! TransWomen are women TransMen are Strong men Transgender is a Gender Respect us we hurt no one! "Transgender Right is Human right TransWomen are women too TransMen are men as well We claim no war but our Freedom We claim no hate but our Respect" Poet : Skylar G Peter Poem: we Are Proud Transgender people
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87
494 Going to Him! Happy letter! Tell Him— Tell Him the page I didn’t write— Tell Him—I only said the Syntax— And left the Verb and the pronoun out— Tell Him just how the fingers hurried— Then—how they waded—slow—slow— And then you wished you had eyes in your pages— So you could see what moved them so— Tell Him—it wasn’t a Practised Writer— You guessed—from the way the sentence toiled— You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you— As if it held but the might of a child— You almost pitied it—you—it worked so— Tell Him—no—you may quibble there— For it would split His Heart, to know it— And then you and I, were silenter. Tell Him—Night finished—before we finished— And the Old Clock kept neighing “Day”! And you—got sleepy—and begged to be ended— What could it hinder so—to say? Tell Him—just how she sealed you—Cautious! But—if He ask where you are hid Until tomorrow—Happy letter! Gesture Coquette—and shake your Head!
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7.6k
Going to Him! Happy letter!
Copulation of the minds... as word play leads innuendos to fornicate upon the poets tongue... unrestrained his fingers give voice to wanton carnal desires laying the reader bare to writhe helplessly beneath his hands with ink stained kisses he forces words into their mouths a breathless sigh resonating his ache to be heard as he stands naked before them offering himself to their voyeuristic gaze before taking them upon the sheets in punctuated passionate embraces leading them toward the ****** they so cried out for... Jesus I'm Good. ~<3~
0
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Pronoun(ced) ***********
but have you noticed, have you noticed how  all mental health problems stem form a seemingly aether virus that attacks the pronoun category; i mean with proper justifiable schizoids you will not hear of the nouns being ransacked for an equation that equates itself to misnomers; it's all categorised negation of ease within the framework of pronouns. it's strange that philosophers stress the pronouns so much these days and those countless prior, but why do mental health diseases attack the pronouns and not the nouns? they attack the verbs thoroughly, but prior to the verbs exposing an illness the pronouns are attacked, so that many considering the singularity of expressing thought are ill because of being forced into a plural expression of thought: "voices." i find it hard to understand, but it's the reality, the aether virus attacks the pronoun on the backdrop of a king's casual expression / use of pronouns, when a king casually says of himself as omni or multi with one and we respectively; so why are pronouns so weak and nouns so strong that a tree cannot be a misnomer attaché of timber and rock not a pillar, or mountain as the verb: mountaineering? the pronoun category is weak from day one, because it suggests photographic duck animation on the lip pursed into a quack quack, but if we constructed thought without knowledge prior, eating the fruit of knowledge rather than the fruit of thought, using the starting point of the genesis metaphor, it's sometimes a no brainer to have weak thinking and strength in knowing, for if there was strength in thinking and weakness in knowing, i'd be the one chiseling these words in the ice age on a cavern wall. so, given, that diseases such as the famed premature dementia attack the pronouns but not the nouns the schizoid one will convene life with: pizza is pizza and sunshine ray down the drain clock the millionth dead parting of grasshoppers in decimals - while man unto man lusts one man's parting in decimals, but should dire said, part man with integers, and insects with decimals! but still, in the terminology of a cartesian understanding of illness, in that segregational aspect of things "sorted," why are mental illnesses tattooed in a weak pronoun usage compared to a strength in other grammatical categories? why are not mental illnesses ******* the life out of the nouns? the nouns are intact, the pronouns attacked, and the verbs chess piece the pawn from the casually speaking clown king into a beast imprisoned, for while the pronouns are attacked and the nouns left intact, the attack on pronouns expresses itself fully in verbs of the never existent tact: with such magic as to claim knock knock on plank is the same as knock knock on veneer.
0
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
plank v. veneer via grasshoppers
but have you noticed, have you noticed how  all mental health problems stem form a seemingly aether virus that attacks the pronoun category; i mean with proper justifiable schizoids you will not hear of the nouns being ransacked for an equation that equates itself to misnomers; it's all categorised negation of ease within the framework of pronouns. it's strange that philosophers stress the pronouns so much these days and those countless prior, but why do mental health diseases attack the pronouns and not the nouns? they attack the verbs thoroughly, but prior to the verbs exposing an illness the pronouns are attacked, so that many considering the singularity of expressing thought are ill because of being forced into a plural expression of thought: "voices." i find it hard to understand, but it's the reality, the aether virus attacks the pronoun on the backdrop of a king's casual expression / use of pronouns, when a king casually says of himself as omni or multi with one and we respectively; so why are pronouns so weak and nouns so strong that a tree cannot be a misnomer attaché of timber and rock not a pillar, or mountain as the verb: mountaineering? the pronoun category is weak from day one, because it suggests photographic duck animation on the lip pursed into a quack quack, but if we constructed thought without knowledge prior, eating the fruit of knowledge rather than the fruit of thought, using the starting point of the genesis metaphor, it's sometimes a no brainer to have weak thinking and strength in knowing, for if there was strength in thinking and weakness in knowing, i'd be the one chiseling these words in the ice age on a cavern wall. so, given, that diseases such as the famed premature dementia attack the pronouns but not the nouns the schizoid one will convene life with: pizza is pizza and sunshine ray down the drain clock the millionth dead parting of grasshoppers in decimals - while man unto man lusts one man's parting in decimals, but should dire said, part man with integers, and insects with decimals! but still, in the terminology of a cartesian understanding of illness, in that segregational aspect of things "sorted," why are mental illnesses tattooed in a weak pronoun usage compared to a strength in other grammatical categories? why are not mental illnesses ******* the life out of the nouns? the nouns are intact, the pronouns attacked, and the verbs chess piece the pawn from the casually speaking clown king into a beast imprisoned, for while the pronouns are attacked and the nouns left intact, the attack on pronouns expresses itself fully in verbs of the never existent tact: with such magic as to claim knock knock on plank is the same as knock knock on veneer.
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45
*Angel torches filter sunlight  across a vast    horizon          of sea foam                        petticoats. Where                           topaz  touches                              glittering                                 cyan                                       &                                                  spirals                                              downwards                                        through the                            deepest dark                         blues - no body                          can exist within                   jewelled sapidity.     *
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Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Oh woe is ( ) a zero pronoun ...
dead tree forks arizona heat still goes dumb hard voices swivel for relief i mouthed every word of a break up song like it means something giving you up like you gave up on the pronoun game callous tongue imagine if you called me by my name as opposed to a girl like i told you to
0
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
bad wand discipline
Seasonal construction Path of destruction and rebuild, Traffic crazy, in the car ahead, Face yelling at a speaker phone, Zig-zag path like the road owner, 3:05 late so a five o'clock date, And a seagull sits right on the line, Patient Mockery so sublime, The seagull "walks the line" Waiting can be a hating game, That would be a vacation shame, shame, Shame. So now the seagull is not alone on the line. ©DWE092013
0
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
Ferry Terminal (no personal pronoun or I challenge)
Author:  Kristen Stevens Sunday, June 21, 2009 Current mood:outside the loop And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there. ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see. Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game). It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe. This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
0
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
Who had the best week ever?
Author:  Kristen Stevens Sunday, June 21, 2009 Current mood:outside the loop And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there. ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see. Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when  ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game). It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe. This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
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I crushed it, and it regrew anyways. The hypothesis, was more romantic, than tossing and yearning all night over losing teeth in a giraffe fight. Your hypothesis, was more romantically worded, than a thesis on how birds die on impact when colliding with a glass windowpane, retrieving teeth lost during a giraffe brawl. Worded, like the thesis about how birds die during impact, each line of the letter dripped with invisible ink, like colliding with a glass window. Pain is only fleeting, if the end comes close behind. Every line in each letter, drawn with invisible ink, doesn't sound in the pronunciation, which is only fleeting, if the end line draws closed behind. So close your characters behind you, and don't let the draft in. Does it not sound in the pronoun, the annulment of which leaves every thing indefinite, and incomplete. So clothe your characters before you, so they don't let in a draft, and catch a cold from ****** or being indistinct. What leaves everything indefinitely incomplete other than the ability of the mind to hypothesize, and catch a cold in the **** state of being extinct? The inability to reconcile your metaphorical heart and instinct. The others, they, have the ability to hypothesize, about what makes us toss and yearn at night. I forgave your inability to reconcile. My heart: pure instinct. So you crushed it, and still it grew anyways.
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Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:18 PM UTC
I Couldn't Stop Thinking About your Poor Excuse for a Breakup
wanna twist and shout fist and clout the silent wrestle a lapse of consciousness bereft of science and hard as metal black and blue ***** girl, ***** pronoun game strewing the fate in a storm of words strung like wire what do you want? don’t call me like a woman and don’t call me one either you don’t got any other way to communicate it’s blame it on anything you don’t got close the chapter and the verse with a love curse an empty ball and chain because it’s all you and no me
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
failing algebra... again
This is a poem about nothing which is impossible since Nothing is actually Something An indefinite pronoun. Now, I'm discussing nothing a concept that makes 'nothing' a thing Confused? I am. My mind is buzzing with the thought of nothing! So is my mind empty or not?! Discussing nothing is leaving me blushing! Now existentialists, Sartre was influenced by Heidegger Heidegger says he was misunderstood In the effort to bring about a poem about nothing, I've created something, so this poem is now about Something' what, I know not.
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Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
A poem about nothing
My dream began with a pronoun waking in the morning light, followed by a verb carried in the wind from across the lake, as the adverb whispered a preposition, adjectives modified a proper noun, and I sailed quietly to your beautiful name
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
My Dream
You're a pronoun, I'm a pronoun. Let's say we grab a verb and conjugalate ;-)
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Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 6:09 PM UTC
Conjugalate
with you... the bumblebee would lose its objectivity of re-, and like every bumblebee in man’s list of talk there would only be enough pollen to yawn about and leave the rest politicised.
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
poetry's pronoun usage to excuse narrator