Counted all that I’ve done doggy style
Knowing that you've gone Donald Duck's mile
Wondering why this happened so X rated
I wished that Spuna could be demonstrated.
Without you nothing’s the same lubed
Because love's become udderly boobed
[Horus plays bingo by himself for days]
It’s lonely with no one to call your Ass-hat
I get real hard when I can't shave your wombat
The game of love isn’t meant to baccalaureate
So I might as well be playing in drag strip Uno.
I’ve got so much on my filthy mind
With the words this easy to steal
Hoping you’ll come back in my behind
And realize you need my bananna's peel.
Without you, nothing’s the same anal, or oral
Because, love's turned a Trekies' loose portal
[Horus8 is Kurt VC Bukowski's red head'd step gun]
Just hoped it could be like it was nude under trapped fur
When you left I watched my heart burn turn to roll-aids
I don’t think I like this game no mo' Sir Jon the Baptist
Blowing Bernie Taupin & realizing I'm a lyrical date rapist.
Without you nothing’s the same stupid fucking song
Because love's become a lonely game of Donkey Kong.
"Stoned, why we love them" Starring horus8 and John F K
as Olympic curlers by day, powdered perriwigs by night".
You left me here with too many words to look up
As I watched you walk away with my creaky back door
And now stuck with the memory of your raping typed up
Because yours' is the only one I can hump on the floor.
(Soon to be a Novel by Mark "The Narc" Furryman,
W/audio tape by Christopher "Why Run" Walkonman).
Author notes
Written February 7th, 2004
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1 - 13 of 13
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GREAT!
So much emotion and description. Interesting, man. I have commented on all Spuna poems to meet your requirement for joining my group.
~Spike~ -
haha!! thats absolutely grand. the picture mon tis awesome with a vengeance hee hee. the whole ting made me laugh all haRRRRRRRRdcore. **slaps you on the back all hard and funny leek** YA DID GOOT SON....YA DID GOOT!! and now i KEEEEVIIIIIIIN shall be off. jolly goot job ol chap ^.^
..........Fr0ggy -
Pullin' on my peacepipe (hard)avoiding that fucked-up Marboro
laughin' it's ugly little head off and wishing I could hand it to you...Entranced with your attitude and state of mind(dellirium)? -
lol i can play uno by my self and rumi
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A spunrific triumph i said everything i felt before but i really want you to read one of my latest poems anti-drug. Because of what it means and i need to know what you think. anyways back to this poem...it was sooo you it hurt to be anything else i will always love your style.
JOAN OF STARK RAVING MAD.
Edited on Feb 08, 1:10 p.m. because ''. -
Heh. That was rather amusing, with under chords of sadness. Quite interesting. Nice job
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i feel like screaming...just for the release after being pumped up by this your words. i felt your screamyness i suppose .....loved the picture you did to go with this...two peopley type things having a fag after sex was it good for you...yes it was good for me...thanks..hope you dont not never ever get to play bingo for days...or do knitting...or ever have to play roullette with a casserole....this is another bumblaster
Edited on Feb 08, 10:22 because ''. -
All hail...i really need some ale...a whale...fuck i dunno i just need Spuna. Or i don't...or i so....god damn you...confusion hurts me...Spuned for life,
Joan of Stark raving mad -
Parts of this were extremely hilarious, and parts of it were very sad. And then there was the bit about the wombat, which (uh-oh, here we go...) left me feeling a little sticky, and then I had to shower myself in the Lake of All-Knowing. Just because it was nearby. Bummer part is, though, that soon after my cleanliness had been properly washed away, I tripped and fell into a big puddle of teddybears. They all stared at me in that innocent, friendly kinda way they have, that's how they draw you in, so they can pimp you out to the highest bidder. They traffic in souls, you know. They the oddest thing happened. Mr. Rogers said he was my neighbor, and he smiled at me. And it was in a completely different way from that predatory teddybear smile. Then he turned into a (like you didn't see this coming) wombat.
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hmmmmmmmmm...... should probably read this when straight... won't be half the fun though.
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I hear ya.... with nirvana in my headphones..it makes everything harder than I could swallow....lol.
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sometimes, when i'm lonely, i sit around and think "i really hate horus8, he's so pretty, smart and popular." i contemplate how i might steal his identity but realize he probably has at least ten and that would take more effort than i'm willing to give the project. so, in the end, i just call him heather and the rest is just a day.
Edited on Feb 07, 10:17 p.m. because ''. -
Love this poem.....and the pic.... lol
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