Jeffrey the Poet Lie in

You banged your head
On the top of the bed
And said a word
I'd never heard

we decided to stay
in bed all day
we got so bored
we tried to record
The way
We snored
Jeffrey the Poet Freudian Slipknot

As I tiptoe through the ruins of our house
I find
The plate you didn't smash
The shirt you didn't tear
The hamster that the vet might save
The dollar that you left me
The corner of our bed you didn't piss on
And I smile
to know
You left these things for me
Because you love me
Jeffrey the Poet The flowers in my garden
are plumping up their sex parts
and horny bees
dart through the trees
mixing up the juices

There's an orgy in my garden
that I'm much too big to join
but that's OK
I'm glad to say
because I like to watch.
Jeffrey the Poet Nature Poem

A wasp can fly between the raindrops in a thunderstorm

And they tell me I can kiss you

A frog can catch a million flies a day

And they tell me I can kiss you

A cat can eat a thousand frogs and still be home in time for tea

And they tell me I can kiss you

But the cats, the frogs and the flies are looking

so I can't
Jeffrey the Poet Guess who?

Creeping up behind you
and covering your eyes
with fingers that I know you know so well
Is not as much fun
as it used to be
the first week that we shared this prison cell.
Dafremen (sniff..sob)Moving, soul-searing.
Your words have touched me as even my own fingers could not have but have longed to.
DannyH Thankyou. My talent is both my blessing and my curse. 010808
DannyH Shit. Another alias exposed. I really didn't want to own up to this one. 010808
Dafremen In that case I won't even get into how many people are ACTUALLY having tea over at that other blather which shall remain nameless. 010808
DannyH Well hey, this wouldn't be wonderland without a tea party. There just weren't enough people around to keep me amused so I had to invent one. I should come clean. I am all the other blatherers. there's only ever been me and you here. 010808
Dafremen speaking of which I'm afraid there's something that I've been meaning to tell you.
You see, there's really only just you Danny.
suck my dick 010808
Jeffrey the Poet It would truly be an honour to perform fellatio on such an eloquent fellow poet. 010809
suck my calling yourself a poet simply shows that you don't know what the fuck you're talking about 010809
DannyH Oh you got that joke did you? Well done, sweetheart. Jesus, I'm not usually a bitch but some people need some tuning. 010809
suck my knob 010809
Dafremen Weeelll! Looks like the 9 and under crowd FINALLY made it's way to blather.

You can always tell yer typical elementary schooler by their "poke" method of exploring limits.

The novelty of anonymity hasn't been lost on these young twits who use it as a stuffed chair to hide behind as they engage in their "poke the people with a stick" antics.(Not to detract from black-dyed gel product's style, which is the result of having refined and matured such an approach over the course of decades.)

Welcome little one...blather needed a representative from the "Britney set".

(Sits back, cracks open a bottle o' Bobby Dazzler Lager and hands it to DannyH, gesturing for him to watch the fun as the youngun responds as expected.)
Teenage Jesus Hey, I wanna watch to. Lemme see if I can get `em riled up a little more...

"you're a stupid head, you stupid head."

Is it really so important that you wear your hat backwards and utter the word bi-yatch at every opportunity?

That ought to do it- Aw heck; we've probably scared it now...
kingsuperspecial Did I heartea party “? Kick ass!

:: pulls up a mushroom, grabs the hooka away from the caterpilly ::

damn drafreman, you must get tired of hitting the nail so square on the head. the down side of the nine or under crowd is you have to insult them on their own level, which is, well, it's juevinle, right? otherwise, you're just running circles around them. BDGP has got a lot of sense in his poke style, the lads coming along nicely. He hasn’t fully adopted therun in screaming, set yourself on fire, shit on their forehead, and sing Old McDonald” method that some of my blather_heroes have perfected…but we all have to have our nitch, right?

( :: covers forehead, watching for baby satan behind his back :: )

That reminds me, I've been working on my own "poke" method these days. Of course, now that I'm older it's, ah, well, let’s say it's 'evolved' a bit.

:: winks at the ladies ::

heh heh. someone gimme a scone,
kingsuperspecial juvenile...
Dafremen Scones!
(Yes it does get tiresome after awhile KSS, but hey, we all have our crosses to bear. Mine is sort of like being forced to SELL free gold bricks.

"Here's some good advice..take it! It's FREE."

"Huh? I'm sorry pal, but if you want me to take that advice you're going to have to sell me on the idea first."

"But there's nothing in it for me except a chance to help you."

"Yea ok, whatever."

kingsuperspecial my, that does seem like quite a weighty cross to bear. it's probably almost as heavy as that giant, swollen head of yours...

hey, I could use a free gold brick. how much you asking for them?

:: munching scone ::
sykoze and i ran and i ran and i ran
and the blue rag of misfortune
kept throwing itself
tripping me, flying through the air,

the fridge lies dormant and
i wonder where you are,
wrapped up in your fluffy down


lighting up in a dark
parking lot
the middle of some shitty-ass suburban mall, sucking in all the commercialism alon gwith t hesc ent o fment hol ated cigs.

Poetry sucks but so do I
Jeffrey the Poet The Great procrastinator

While I'm lazing, dazing,
grazing slowly on my memories
bobbing on a tide of dreams
that never see the light of day
I can see the driven people
driving up and down the street
pushing people out the way
demanding things of those they meet.

How I'd like to take their hands
and shove them in a liquidizer
scoop out the contents of their skulls
and mash their brains till I'm the wiser
bleed out all their lust for life
and put some jelly in their heads
but I don't have the time right now
so I shall go to bed
Jeffrey the Poet I'm scared to step outside my door
I'm the other kind of poor
The one with colder music
and cheaper shoes
I've got those too white to live in the neighbourhood I can afford blues.
Jeffrey the Poet Meaty chunks
On metal hooks
I carry to suspicious looks
I look
I hook
I read a book
When I get home
I like to cook.
Dafremen Took me awhile to get in the front entrance. Jeffery did you NEED to have the door made so narrow? Had to grease my head up with lard to get it in here.

Anyhow, flippo asked me to leave this letter here for you, but made me promise not to read it. Said you'd understand:

Dearest Jeffery, Poet Unparallelled,

How I do miss our long chats down by the lakeside. Remember your diatribe on the fellating of crippled emus? I laughed for hours that day, and would have laughed for hours more, if you hadn't accidentally stabbed me in the ribs with your swizzle stick.

Where have all of those lazy, breezy days gone, old friend? Has the summer of our collective youths gone by, leaving only flatulent, sour old men where once, young, would-be heroes sat, eating cheesy popcorn and downing Jaegermeister shots? OH, the comeradery! (Oh the nights filled with jogs to the crapper!) How I long for those days again, querido compadre! How I do pine to see again the sight of two fearless, swaggering chums crossing streams in a pissing duel, with the entire Falstaff marching band looking on (unbeknownst to us, of course! Remember?)

Perhaps, if there IS a God in heaven, he would fain allow our paths and our piss to cross again. It would bring a smile to this sour, flatulent old heart.


Jeffrey the Poet You can kill yourself with concrete.
You can break your legs with pins.
You can tell the way a parachute
Will rise by how it spins.

You can make yourself important.
You can write about the rich.
You can fly into a blazing rage
and call your wife a bitch.

You can fall into a scissor kick
Or make your grandma’s brother sick
Or fly around in Lenin’s dick
Or fingerfuck arithmetic.

But it won’t make you happy.
Believe me I know. I’ve tried.
cut_and_paste Jeez. Just what the world needs - another penniless poet. 030319
Jeffrey the poet I feel a poem
coming on
not that you care
with your jokes about vogon_poetry
I'm not even sure you understand
the pain
the always always pain
that is the_constant_gardener
to my
lack of emptiness.
what's it to you?
who go