Dragon Ball Z Uncensored

[L Ron Butterfly]

Everything Is Still

I.

A small dog, face wedged under a gate,
howls at me (or the moon) and
digs.

Since it's calling to me (or the moon), I
oblige, pat its head,
and move on.

It continues to
squeal, and I feel
ignorant to animal nature. The dog

thought I (or the moon) would emancipate it, but
I am not its owner. There is nothing
I can do.

I’ve given the
dog false hope. I
flaunted my freedom to what had none.

As I turn the corner, I can no longer hear it yelp.

II.

In high school, I had a dream I’ll never forget.
At sixteen, I didn't have a license yet,
and busses didn't serve my private school.
I had to find a ride home every day.
I had grown up with Mike Jones. He was
tall. He had a car. He lived
in the back of my neighborhood. On most days he
gave me a ride home.

In the dream, we were in his car. He was talking
about something I couldn't hear.
I was looking out the window at all the houses flying by.

I realized I was dreaming, that I was
effortlessly, instantaneously
creating these fountains and yards.
If you realize you're dreaming,
you should do something you'd never really do,
so I turned my head to the driver's seat, lifted my fist,
and punched Mike Jones in the face.
Repeatedly.
I struggled to go against the predetermined
outcome of my dream. My arm was heavy.

It was like punching a TV screen. He just kept talking.
He didn't even notice.
I woke up that morning with a splitting headache.

III.

When I was ten, my uncle
a) bought me a lot of WWII fighting games for Super Nintendo,
b) taught me how to draw a swastika in Mario Paint,
c) took me to the school fair.
I rode the go carts. I didn’t realize it was a race.
When the carnie told the cart in front of me, "One more lap,"
I thought he meant everybody, our time had run out.
I pulled into the finisher’s line first.
The kids had all lapped me.
I got a lot of ugly looks.
My uncle and I walked the fair grounds in silence.

IV.

In middle school morning assembly, the cool boys stood in the back of the line during prayer and the pledge. Usually the boys’ line would start next to the halfway point of the girls’ line and curve along the back wall of the gym.

So when Mike Jones pushed me to the front of the line, I ran back and kicked him in the shin repeatedly. He looked at me and laughed.

Last night I kept dreaming about my mom and her boyfriends, but poetry isn’t therapy so I’ll leave that out.

V.

Writing poetry is easy.
Just come up with a simple story or two.
Throw in line breaks and Roman numerals.
Losers will like it because they're idiots.
It helps if you talk about the moon.

[Theldorrin]

Roman numerals offend me.

[8 bit orgy]

This reminds me of Jewel's poetry.

Poetry IS actually very easy. But it's nearly impossible to write is so well that people actually want to read it without some masochistic intent.
_________________
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rL1oU6fH25w

[L Ron Butterfly]

8 bit, do you actually know any of Jewel's poetry beyond the words, "with such casualty"?

[L Ron Butterfly]

Adderoll

The experience usually begins with me taking
a really big shit
into a toilet,

and ends with me taking
an even bigger shit
onto a piece of paper
or a word processor.

[YES]

Hey guys, here is a post better than Punkasss

[L Ron Butterfly]

Fuck me, how did you do that?

[L Ron Butterfly]

The Importance of Exacting Language

Junior year in Mrs. Millet's English class,
we were doing vocabulary words.
There was a word on the list we had had earlier in the year,
And Mrs. Millet said she forgot what it meant.
She laughed about it with the suck up kids in the front, and
asked one of them to look it up for her.

I turned to Ben and whispered, it can't be a very important word
if the teacher already forgot it. She saw me, and gave us the,
What are you two talking about? routine, and I tried to give the, Uhhh...
uhhh... until she lets it slide routine, but she wasn't having it.
So I told her, I was just telling Ben that

if you already forgot what the word means, it can't be
a very important word. She wrote me up.
I went to the vice principal's office, and he said, Mrs. Millet tells
me you were talking back to her. I said,
no, not really. He got mad and demanded to know

exactly what happened, so I told him all about it. He told me
I had no right to question the teacher's authority.
I wanted to tell him I didn't question her authority.
I questioned the importance of the vocabulary word.
But he was a lot bigger than me and

obviously knew he was right about everything.
So I aplogized and said it wouldn't happen again.

The next week Jade told T.J. to SHUT UP YOU
STUPID LITTLE BLACK KID in the middle of class,
and he got written up when he called her a bitch
in retaliation. He told the vice principal what she had said,
and expressed his belief that she should be the one

in his office. So the vice principal explained to T.J.
the subtle differences between racist and not racist:
I'll joke around with Mr. Jim (the janitor)
about how he doesn't like cold weather.
But I'll never call him the N word.

So T.J. apologized and said it wouldn't happen again.
T.J. would go on to become the first black
Valedictorian of St. Charles Catholic High School
in LaPlace, Louisiana.

Well, he was co-valedictorian. The white girl
he shared the honor with had a GPA one tenth
of a point lower than his.
To be perfectly frank, it didn't make any fucking sense.

[L Ron Butterfly]

To anybody who wants to point out a misspelled word or a break in parallelism in that post, and use it as a way to discredit the validity of my education, I'd just like to mention that for some reason, as soon as I exceed one text-box's length of text, every character I type causes the page to scroll upward, so that I cannot see what I'm typing while I'm typing it.

It's possible to go back and fix the errors, but time-consuming since, as soon as I get my cursor where I want it and type a single character (or hit backspace) I once again can no longer see the text I'm dealing with.

Does this happen to anyone else, or is it just this computer (that I stole from a Hispanic teenaged girl at a coffee shop)?

[L Ron Butterfly]

I fucked your bitch the other day.
She said she liked it and that you are gay.
Her tits sag, and her labia's rough.
I bent her over and I raped the slut.

Her knees and elbows crawl, trying to escape.
My choke chain tightens while my foot penetrates.
Now my dinette set's stained with blood.
My steel toe's aiming for the other cunt.

I carry her to the shallow grave.
The girls are all dykes at FTUSA. (both of them)
Her plea is muffled while I'm shoveling dirt.
Chris wears a rubber dildo under his skirt.

I cleaned the pool the other day.
The blacks are all Toms at FTUSA. (both of them)
I crack their skulls open, brains so smooth.
A rhythmic people, to their death howl I groove.

Look at the carnage I created that day.
Still I assume no responsibility.
Some may see this, say That's not nice.
I can't unstick myself from the zeitgeist.

I sucked some dick the other day.
I didn't like it because I'm not gay.
I set it off, tongue gentle touch.
Chugging that gum drop like Hawaiian Punch.

Obtaining tools to abuse my brain.
That cocaine's rising to the top of my veins.
And when I come down, I'll admit,
I'm running from the smell of my own shit.

[L Ron Butterfly]

8 Bit's timid little Asian girl voice
Comes from a gullet that is soft and moist.
You say I'm Jewel? That's cool. Your throat's home base.
I kind of like it in your bamboo face.

[Mike Dunn]

That adderall poem is pretty spot-on.

[L Ron Butterfly]

Apology

I'm sorry for my recent tyrades.
In some ways, many ways, I was trolling,
but on a serious level, I was trying to reconcile
my lazy fair (I KNOW that's wrong, dammit, I
live in a frank a phone area)
"they're not harmful, they're just stupid" attitude
toward racism with living in a racially tense city
and taking liberal arts classes that have made me see
racism in everything, including myself and people
I've always considered smarter than myself.

I'm being vulnerable right now, I'm not trying
to entertain, and please just don't compare me to
that walking punch line Mathew Outland.

[L Ron Butterfly]

Autodidacticism

[L Ron Butterfly]

I hate to say it, but ironic detachment is a crutch.
And crutch is a cliche.
And cliche is French.
And the French are frogs.
And that's

Ethnocentric.

[Big Fagot]

Penus

[Magic Juan]

shut up foggot

[Servbot]

http://i122.photobucket.com/albums/o274/Jirotrom/buffkitty.jpg

[L Ron Butterfly]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francoise_Hardy

[YES]

Pleasure is the highest good; after all majority of thing feel good because they are