A Free Verse Free For All: Volume VI

will no one answer the phone what if I dive off the waterfall three's a call its for us all how can we know unless we admit there's a need for speed and without you we'll lose the precious lead answer answer anwser answer and still it rings on i just wanna hold your hand but loves more than just a game its an unreal farce in a fantasy slam so now we turn and see the poet rolling down the hill in a beat-up 1957 chevy except it has no wills and its laterally atop him no one can touch them not anyone at all a part of their generation forever and when they die off still they will be held in respect because that is the reality of Marilyn the state, not the sex goddess a time floating in his own paparazzi a write without form this is not poetry so men come into the new arena and spot a brazen idol burning in hollow's flame in the year of the guard we come into a new flower without a division a carnal bell cow trips over yon toe without explanation the infinity child smiles light falling from the child's lips and profanity wisdom hidden in its teeth hidden misplaced intellect trying to crawl away into a period piece claiming to be an archival attempt a study of the history floating away into the breeze a tear to wipe away there's been too many deaths today mortality rates climbing pinnacles in the mysts of carry she's climbingwithout a gong the sound to echo now becomes a speechless and meaningly phrase broken down shadows caught in naughty disarray and this should be a new line there now the writer may continue with his squibbles a hair clip flashing against red an idol broken down moon-star split in half in the name of friendship to carry on the working ways a reflection in the night trying to plunge in a knife without a rock there shall be no salt in the end of days a woman dressed in black will rule the [salmon] coronas superstar nova a child dressed in the mind's eye of gothic thrash novels a trash convector hiding in a bidding misery broken wretched month what a limited vocabulary a minority in vouge caring cinnamon cloves smoking blackened perfume in the shadows and dim [typoe: dime] lights of Parking Lot Supersales a host [Typo: hose] crinked in the middle now there is no water [broken] misplaced calamities a knowledge of errors and the inability to fix them categorize the English way all apologies writes Cobain I meant the Americana way a snuke ub tge bug a smile in the night a flower heart lover the marching on of worthless arms tick tock into the future bulbous swollen eye lids kareoke ring of a nipple queen induce madness in the style and delivery of pain a [misplaced; lost] [carry-on] [shadowy] numb locked horse in the [dawns of time] eatheral version of rhyme [5-7-01: in the shadows of rhyme] what are they going to do spank me a forbidden shallow appeal in the courts of all land's unreal a numeric pattern going over the heads of new composition an unfinished master work masterpiece master race master master war master doggerel in the eloquence of Poe retreading of the same themes and imagery and when there is a turning of aroundthe shadow clouds have left the sun [typo: son] have left the clouds have left the fun deserting the crayon scribblings without a thought of the clowns hiding in your frowns anxious to be crowned the kings and queens (lest we sound -- oh God help -- sexist politically correct to you we salute now I'm losing my point what was my point I forget oh yes, kings of comedy now I need to end this with a parentheses ) there, the matters done and if you don't need me anymore i think its time to dawn a shield a foregone conclusion in the state of Illinois endless revision the state of hysteria a spydery apparition hoping to find cancerous cells in the endless depths of your mind and without regent I push them in an endless flowing to insanity's stye insanity's stye insanity's stye perhaps the new version of a long last classic which then damns it too critical analogy and vain gully [typo: guy] [gally] philosophies to those searching for a meaning to echo a Southern icon in west Mid-Atlantic core of their lore any of those fine I'm not echoing I'm stealing the conceptual any of those must we get into an argument I acknowledged him any of those oh shut up shouting ANY OF THOSE ATTEMPTING TO FIND A MEANING *gasp for breath* WILL BE *another gasp* SHOT ON -- ON --ON -- ON -- gasping oh hell might a suggest sticky paper? that's it! STICKY PAPER! SO DON'T MESS sharp intake of breath WITH ME OR MY CODLIVER OIL! the virtues of molasses cookies lead to carbonated prune juice attempting to hide in sickness nudity hunger and all things in between rambling rambling rambling version 4.0 my bad that's already been done version ------------------ perhaps the fifth symphony of beethoven a [misplaced] a hopeful meeting that turns out to have no meaning a basketball player dressed in rice cake puddings with a turban on his head sitting in the office with a bowl of white soup perched on the snake sitting atop the turban which rests on a snail's shell (it's a mighty big snail) who's laughing and sharing a couple of drinks with the tortoise also on the player's head who happens to have purple skin the tortoise is AWOL meaning a weasel in leopard skin mink stole perhaps not but still he is and they're all drinking bourbon beneath the turban perhaps too long a section a mindless medley high immorality dressed in tropic immortal infinitely's lover which is (of course) cancer* an error now standing long uncorrected utter turmoil chaos is there a difference? a supposed remedy a glass shot into the minds of eye's naught all things children sliding underneath the window where the muse of the beatniks has been locked away for the lone one and fifty years? no months? nodays? no -- yes! -- no minutes hours what? I think its years yes quite positive no doctor i'm not drunk just interested in liberating misabused callous ewes put into slavery by [insanity's] all you're hues and yes I do mean you are in that context don't correct me i'm the poet -- burp -- ex officao salamander king my don't I sound like no, not yet, not Morrosonion enough oh, btw, which, btew, is an acronym for by the way, now what's the e in there for? who knows anyway, its I'm almost positive its its its its its it is is it don't start asking questions it is damn it years there I said it please be proud of me emotional stimuli in a pm dawn album isn't that a band? dark moon by david gremmel a fantasy croon hiding in a midnight moon dressed with a spoon inside a palatable coon a golden fairview with David's stare hanging about my neck i mean star not state I wonder if David stared probably so when he saw the woman on the rooftop that's alright I'd prolly a stared too and then reaped the benefits *ahem* of his labour like a dead child and a split house two pages written carelessly [typo: callously] and bound together by a thing they call a stapler I can it a mental branding tool perhaps an apparatus of mind dissenttwo sequels and not one worth a damn that's what I think I hear -- no, I refuse to steal a dyln line dylan not dyln you probably don't know him but his (find out number of down on the groove group) xth album is number one most popular album in the world just for today and today only stellar dystrophy goal driven in by Roman Palanski perhaps a volume one in a virtually ending miniseries or perhaps a very long work trying to masquerade as a duck [without meaning trying to hide the fact that his voice (in this case a quack) doesn't echo miserable i'll say it again miserable miserable miserable miserable no space hidden line miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable duckesquackes dontes echoeth miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable miserable phone call from the dead wake up examine your head oriental product 3 types freewheelin maddeningly insane imagery hiding in the coatress of the universe religious stuff and relational issues not a very wide variety I didn't think so either wait religious has two sub categories 1. Very dark I get an org from killing you stuff 2. very light heavy metal thunder and rock'n'roll a kiss in the night i'm lucky if I don't get a sharking having my tongue for breakfast let alone my p hello there dick hello squirrel we're going to die that's alright its all over anyhow you're right squirrels now I'm richard so don't call me dick an instigation to stop all college students from attempting to write a thing they prefer to call poetry but what everyone else calls doggerel everyone goes thru a phase where people think they can write its called highschool and adolescents soon to find out we cannot write just as emeralds can cease to shine so perhaps we should stop now now or stop now believing right now atrocious crimes against right now like immediately now humanities's child and I'm drifting away as always like a ship without a shore to steer an anchor point to hope for drifting away from my point oh yes, writing I forgot to much forget now I remember i think lets stop believing lies an absentee accountant mindless counting ballots from Tallyhassle a crime against the very epitome of dark and now when the time has come to be at rest all I can see is her beautiful breasts what a gift I've been given lets go make love my wife bird paradise bridges to imaginary unpractical whit and wisdom I mean whitman Allpoetry Free For All Volumes Information on the Free Verse Free For All poems. The Free Verse Free For All Forerunner (or perhaps a Prequel): Jaded Wiggle Junkies I wrote a posting (more of a rant actually) back on Mach 26, 1999, on a forum I was once active on.  I quoted a lot of Alanis Morrisette (Jagged Little Pill) lines in the poems, and then wrote several more lines, etc, that I could developed later on.  I saved the text, and then just formatted it in 2007 and called it “Jaded Wiggle Junkies”.  The text is very much in the spirit of the main series. Volume I (“A Collection of Free Verse, Loosely Tied Together.” ) (written March 24, 2000) A major poem of my early years while I just began writing poetry.  While I do not kid myself that this “Free For All Series” is very good poetry (some, perhaps most, of it is rather bad actually), this poem is one I am still proud of and one of the few poems from this time in my life I would consider publishing.  Original title: “A Collection of Free Verse, Loosely Tied Together.”  Opening line: To the Dead Fish in the Sea. Volume II (“Another Collection of Free Verse”). (written June 23, 2000) This text was not posted because the poem was misplaced for several years..  I wrote the poem at a friend’s trailer during college (I’m almost certain).  When I was posting the poems on AllPoetry, I wanted to include this but couldn’t find the text.  It was only in August 2004 that I found a long mislaid copy of the text and typed it up.  Opening line: “Poets dream dark things.” Volume III (A Collection of Free Verse, Num. III) (written June 25, 2000) I was looking at my old backlog of poetry and was very surprised to see this poem was not posted for some unknown reason.  Strange, as this is one of the major poems in the Free For All Series.  Originally, this was just the “Collection of Free Verse” trilogy.  When I posted them on Allpoetry, I added two other poems which fit in with the series concept but was not explicitly tied to the originally trilogy until much later.  What’s really notable about this poem is how much poetry I actually produced from this text.  In the ensuring years after it was written, I dismantled the poem, wrote two fully developed poems (and very different from each other) based off this text (“To the Exiles” and “The Time Piece”), and then took several smaller fragments that were not included in either of those two new poems but were present in the original text and enlarged them into their own poems.  Opening line: In golden caresses, crisp with stiff humanity Volume IV (Originally Untitled) (written August, 2000, exact date unknown) This poem, and the subsequent installments, was not originally titled anything.  I wrote this poem at Redlands Community College in the computer lab.  I remember the first line running through my head while on campus, and I rushed to the computer labl to write the poem.  For some reason, this was actually released as Volume III on Allpoetry.  Because this was released as Volume III, the other installments are misnumbered by one on Allpoetry’s website.  Opening Line:  Poetry’s blowing free and its blowing nowhere near me.  I have since corrected the misnumbering on Allpoetry. Volume V (Untitled) (written November 20, 2000) This poem is entitled “++++: Fourth installment in 'A Free Verse Free For All’” on Allpoetry.  Don’t really remember the writing circumstances or where I was at when I wrote this obvious masterpiece (cough cough).  Opening line: “Waiting and hoping she’d come back to me” Volume VI (Untitled) (written November 31, 2000) This poem is entitled “'Waterfall Hijackers: A Free Verse Free For All' Vol V” on All Poetry I also wrote this poem at Redlands.  The opening line about the phone ringing is when I started writing the poem, the phone was ringing in the lab and no one was answering it.  Who knew such a phone call would be immortalized in a poem?  Opening line: will no on answer that phone. That is the main body of the series.  Now, I went in and later revised (extensively) the first and third poem, and some of those revisions have been posted on Allpoetry.  I began an unfinished revision of “Will no one anser this phone”.  I have never touched Volume IV or V again.  The prequel was written in 1999, the main series was written in 2000.  However, that has been some new development.  Introducing (dant-dant-dant!): A Free Verse Free For All: Volume VII (2-20-2008) In 2008, I wrote a poem I called Stardust King, Dance with Kissinger's Spade (Several Fragments).  The poem is several fragments tied together.  The poem is only a page long, so it is rather short, but the poem does fitin with the series as far as it being a rather random collection of lines and thoughts, and so I am making it an honoury member of the series.  Perhaps more poems will be written in the series, now that I have developed some more skill and spent more time honing my craft.  Then again, maybe there won’t be new installments in the series.  Let’s be thankful for what we do have, I suppose.  Opening lines: I felt the fires and knew you were cold Allpoetry Free For All Volumes (Personal Notes) Volume I (“A Collection of Free Verse, Loosely Tied Together.” ) (written March 24, 2000) The last poem by Lee Rothchild of the original era.  Original title: “A Collection of Free Verse, Loosely Tied Together.”  Opening line: To the Dead Fish in the Sea. Volume II (“Another Collection of Free Verse”). (written June 23, 2000) This text was not posted because the poem was misplaced for several years..  I wrote the poem at Zac’s trailer (I’m almost certain).  When I was posting the poems on AllPoetry, I wanted to include this but couldn’t find the text.  It was only in August 2004 that I found a long mislaid copy of the text and typed it up.  Opening line: “Poets dream dark things.” Volume III (A Collection of Free Verse, Num. III) (written June 25, 2000) Was not posted for some unknown reason.  Strange, as this is one of the major poems in the Free For All Series.  Originally, this was just the “Collection of Free Verse” trilogy.  When I posted them on Allpoetry, I added two other poems which fit in with the series concept but was not explicitly tied to the originally trilogy until much later.  Opening line: In golden caresses, crisp with stiff humanity Volume IV (Originally Untitled) (written no later than November 16, 2000) This poem, and the subsequent installments, was not originally titled anything.  I wrote this poem at Redlands Community College in the computer lab.  I remember the first line running through my head while on campus, and I rushed to the computer labl to write the poem.  For some reason, this was actually released as Volume III on Allpoetry.  Because this was released as Volume III, the other installments are misnumbered by one on Allpoetry’s website.  Opening Line:  Poetry’s blowing free and its blowing nowhere near me. Volume V (Untitled) (written November 20, 2000) This poem is entitled “++++: Fourth installment in 'A Free Verse Free For All’” on Allpoetry.  Don’t really remember the writing circumstances or where I was at when I wrote this obvious masterpiece (cough cough).  Opening line: “Waiting and hoping she’d come back to me” Volume VI (Untitled) (written November 31, 2000) This poem is entitled “'Waterfall Hijackers: A Free Verse Free For All' Vol V” on All Poetry I also wrote this poem at Redlands.  The opening line about the phone ringing is when I started writing the poem, the phone was ringing in the lab and no one was answering it.  Who knew such a phone call would be immortalized in a poem?  Opening line: will no on answer that phone. A Free Verse Free For All: Vol VI - 'Waterfall Hijackers: A Free Verse Free For All' Vol VIWritten November 31st, 2000 © on Oct 24 2001 08:08 AM PST, Michael Edward London    beat • contemporary • nature • pain • personal • sad • society • spiritual • thoughts • weird