Lad Poetry

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Hello I'm New here! Joined: 24 Oct 2006 Posts: 15

I've been baiting a lad for about nine months or so. We've been through all kinds of nonsense; negotiations regarding him building a runway so that I can fly in to pick up all of the gold that he is selling me, all kinds of Moneygram related shenanigans, blah blah blah.

I've recently managed to get him to turn his hand to poetry. My dog recently died from injuries sustained during a fight that broke out in a Moneygram office and I asked the lad to help me through the grieving process by aiding me in composing some poems in tribute to my beloved lost canine.

This arrived this morning. I warn you - it is extremely touching and you may find yourself weeping as you read it:

Quote:

IT IS LIKE MY LIFE

My pet,
The morning between my arms,
Midday at my side with the bed,
It oneself a small walk with him,
The night between my arms with the bed,
It is like my life.
When I fall sick,
It brings remedies to me.
When I am famished,
It brings to me to eat.
When I cry,
It sings and comforts me.
But at last!
Today it is not any more.
What will I become without loved one?
Heap of questions, frustration, unbearable hard blow,
The bitterness, the sleepless nights, the tears,
I felt to collapse around me all my goods,
I felt to break down around me nature. My heart felt vandalise,
My heart felt to violate,
My conscience felt to torture,
And greater open my spirit crosses burning fire.
Thirst requires water,
And only foolish of insane would go so far as to cross the desert without water.
I need water to cross the desert,
I need a guide to survive,
If not my life will not have any more a smell.
Listen to my cries of distress.

C'mon. Admit it. It brought a lump to the throat, no?

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 11:31 am

yep and one in my pants too lololol

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 12:06 pm

I did the logical thing and googled a few of the lines Shocked

Nothing.

Does this mean, no, no way Wink

The potential here is just great.

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 12:14 pm

<br>

Quote:

When I am famished,
It brings to me to eat.
When I cry,
It sings and comforts me.

Aaah! the incredible singing waitering dog from Korea.

"Sing for your supper, bitch! Oh, sorry, you are my supper."

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 12:21 pm

ask him to write a poem -the first line "there was a young lad from nantucket............"

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 12:23 pm

You guys should really look for a deeper meaning - it is poetry after all, not football. Seek further and deeper within and you'll behold the rapturous yearning for the illusive mtcn

Hello I'm New here! Joined: 24 Oct 2006 Posts: 15

Quote:

If not my life will not have any more a smell

Was a truer line ever written?

This lad blatently posesses the soul of a poet and by spending so much time in internet cafes in Togo he is denying the world of the fruits of his true calling.

I will be doing my best to redress this. My baiting character has a friend who works for the arts council and who is impressed by the lad's obvious raw talent and wants him to apply for one of their grants. He'd be a shoo-in, of course, and my friend could fix it that he'd get the grant as long as he submitted a portfolio of poems on subjects that I send to him...

Baiting Guru Joined: 04 Jan 2006 Posts: 3193

I am truly impressed that he didn't mention the money once.

Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 3:38 pm

Isn't this what he means? Laughing

Quote:

IT IS LIKE MY 419 LIFE
My maga,
The morning between my cyber cafes,
Midday at my side with the email,
It oneself a small risky free talk with him,
The night between my computer with the bed,
It is like my 419 life.
When I have my dolla chopped,
It brings tears to me.
When I am scamming,
It brings to me to dolla.
When I try,
It pays and comforts me.
But at last!
Today it is not any more.
What will I become without loved mtcn?
Heap of questions, frustration, unbearable hard blow,
The bitterness, the sleepless nights, the tears,
I felt to collapse around me all my hopes,
I felt to break down around me nature. My heart felt vandalise,
My heart felt to violate,
My conscience felt to torture,
And greater open my spirit crosses burning fire.
Thirst requires dolla,
And only foolish of insane would go so far as to cross the desert without water.
I need mg to cross the desert,
I need a maga to survive,
If not my life will not have any more a smell.
Listen to my cries of distress.

Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2007 5:50 am

I could imagine "IT IS LIKE MY 419 LIFE" being performed in a beatnik coffee bar with a guy plucking a bass, a little snare drum, and a dude snapping his fingers.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8UQfNrfiiU

Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2007 11:06 am

hi f-twain--welcome aboard--

The sad lad poetry reply just seems too awful for him to have stolen it from somewhere, as lads are wont to do. He might well have made it all up;--And in the end, when you nuke him, give him a snog on originality.

Now tell him you JUST lost your beloved XPN$V koi goldfish--'Goldie'-- too. Wink

It might shock you what the prices for koi go for.

BTW, I congratulate you on baiting this mugu for 9 months so far, as you say, if I got that right.

cheerz--jervis tetch/ mad hatter

Hello I'm New here! Joined: 24 Oct 2006 Posts: 15

You did get it right, Jervis, thanks. It's been nine beautiful months and if he goes for my Arts Council grant I'm hoping for nine more. We've been through a lot together, me and this lad. Characters have died. Dollars have been chopped. And yet he won't give up...

I originally only asked him to help me finish the poem that I had written for my dog. I told him that I couldn't come up with a final verse and needed his help. Then I sent him a copy of the lyrics to "Love & Pride" by crappy 80s pop band, King, and asked him to finish it off. The results were pretty subpar so I asked him to have another go and - voila - he sends me the above poem.

He tells me that his wife and daugher helped him. He credited it to his whole family.

I so want to believe that's true...

Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 2:06 pm

hi again f_twain^

9 more is admirable-- and to quote the great Chicago Cub Ernie Banks--"let's play two!".. But remember too that it can all fall apart faster than a Beijing-built motorcycle in the blink of an eye. In any case you have strung along your mugu that much so far, which is admirable indeed.

Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 3:00 pm

lads lads everywhere
sitting in cafes in their underwear
setting fire to each others hair
lads lads everywhere

Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 7:24 pm

I have a strange feeling he did not write that himself. Wink

Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2007 9:40 pm

i did too