|Cancer Fucks Ass.
Cancer is fucking my ass.
raping my hole, like
So i say
I'm gonna fuck ya' bak
so I turn into a homo
-for a while
got a long, large, rubber
shoved it up my chute...
oh oh oh!
it felt sooooo....
but then the cancer went to my brain
and I died with a phallic instrument
inside my anus
and when they found me,
they threw me in the trash
oh what a fag.
23 Sep 07
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Put a phallic-shaped gun in your 'shoot' and PLEASE pull the trigger, you fucking pervert.
Your narrator shouldn't die. That discredits your poem. Let's hope this isn't prophetic.
are you the same loser who wrote jesus fucked me? if not you two would probably get along in your world of fucked up crap you probably think is "art".
this is boring
wtf kinda shit is this?
Cancer can be cured if you injest a vitamin called leatril/b17, it's a natural cure just like oranges are to scurvy. Funny that fruit is so powerful.
It could be interesting...as in say a social commentary on homosexuality but instead reads like some sort of perverted dream.
Your a sick bastard. Grow up.
there's nothning really defiant nor angry about this poem... it's a few strings of words put together because the author can... and no other purpose
it remains very very boring
if you could stand back.. stop fondling yourself for a moment.. you'll realise how utterly dull this piece is
Put your weiner away and go take some writing lessons. If you knew anyone (maybe you DO know someone) who's ever had or who HAS cancer, I doubt very seriously that you'd be writing this kind of shit about it. You could be my sister who had to wipe her fiance's feces off the bathroom walls every day because he had nothing left of his pancreas after the cancer had devoured it and subsequently killed him at the age of 34. Smarten up and show some respect for other people's feelings when addressing something of such a sensitive nature. If this is the only way you can bring attention to yourself, what you might do is take a good long look in the mirror and then throw a chair at it when you're done. You're pathetic.
you talk like you've kind of got cancer of the icon and when the suns on the icon, cancer's in gemini -- so the two of you might as well get together. there's nothing wrong with this -- it's sort of New Yorker grade ironic dissipation and thefolks in the burbs will be so offended and buzzed. nice concept but it could have had more bite by trying to say a little less.
what, so only homos can enjoy anal?
It's "chute" fucktard...
I find this completely offensive. To patients living/dying with cancer and to homosexuals in general. There's nothing poetic about it and to refer to Gay people as "homo's," is just plain ignorant and assanine.
i'm too queer 2 fear and i don't find it offensive at all, since it's so jock-ular and lite, and you know those straight boys need to say stuff like this so's they don't feel queer when they blow each other.
it really isn't worth the comments
it's an actual and creative juggling of words. if it were some guy at a saturday market juggling colored balls it'd be self-defined and sort of stupid. this leaves enough room for the reader to play too, and that's part of the reality of literature that it doesn't share with "entertainment".
mom! your drunk! stop writing poetry!!
It is pretty direspectful and displays your clear naivety cocncerning the devastating impact cancer can have on a family. Yet, saying that I'm not sure you intended to be malicious or hurtful, just be alot more sensitive.
still not worth the energy thats gone into the comments made
mon ghoul, i think you're maybe brushing aside the critical part here in poetry crit? where it's not about saying if we liked or didn't like something, but about finding the poetry in a poem? this is a very useful piece to critique because it shows the weaknesses of naive writing.
just because it "says something" you don't like or something you do like doesn't make it a good or bad poem. it's about how the poem is written, i think... about what kind of structuring mind was behind its craft, and whether that mind is cloning or inventing.
besides, i'm on the checklist here, what with being fagged out and with little retro cells moving over my skin like jitterbugs. i really don't feel this is about "me" though, cause it's so cartoonish.
it's a free country and this verse was funny.
Just because you "just graduated" college does not make YOU an authority on the art and craft of poetry. It's like you've completely taken it upon yourself to invade every possible space here and make yourself known. Stop being so eager and maybe try writing something yourself. This poem and not the cancer fucks ass.
unknown, i'm sixty one years old and graduated a long time ago, and i'm writing, and have been writing, for fifty years and have a feeling about what writing might be for. you, on the other hand, write as though you were farting out the words. if you want a precious "poetry is high-class" circus then you ought to reconsider your understanding of the word "critical" in poetry critical. this is a silly poem and yet a very useful poem, and you are a useless commentator and still silly. go figure.
hahahaha you guys are whacked. You need to chill out a bit.
thanks joey, your alright for a corpse, unlike the rest of these all to serious mother-fuckers.
It's a human condition for people whom have never met and whom will probably never meet except through texting back and forth on a daily basis to automatically just gauge right into hating each other because if it were on a face to face basis, they'd all probably know that someone's ass would be kicked in the whole process. The poem is not even funny. It's obnoxious, promotes bad taste toward anyone who knows anyone who has or who has ever had cancer and it's just plain stupid. It says nothing from some asshole whose most important delivery in their entire lifetime came via this fucking crap that is passed off as being poetry. People love to treat other people like shit and it's completely indicative of the way the world we live in is today. Not enough example. Too much ego. Need more enemas, less shit.
ha ha ha, you rip my poem and this is what you produce. Thank God you didn't like my poem. I would be offended if a creep like you did.
author of why am I crying and attempting to write
shapeshifter = deformedline = friedMnoodle = Mongrol = joey = mor = netsky
give it up guy(s)
You got that right. "Attempting to write." Keep attempting. One day, when you get over your pathetic self, you might learn how to. Before you can write, you must feel and by this display of crap, I don't think you have a feeling bone in your freaking body. Like I said earlier on, you're pathetic if you or anyone else find this shit funny.
"before you can write, you must feel..." ... that's the whole game here isn't it? like, you felt bad growing up and so you know "feel" and any crap you write is automatically "feel" and so real, cause that's the only real you know and maybe you want to be a poet now cause you can't be nothing else, cause you grew up so bad? poetry is fucked, dude. writing poetry is the most lame fucked thing and you don't get no jelly-roll for words on a page. you don't get anything, only death... that's what joe gould said, that is what he said, and he was a fucked poet and you wouldn't want to be him cause he smelled bad and didn't like girls. you're an 'unknown' -- a natural unknown. take up basketball.
Actually unknown/friedmnoodle, I have written some of the top rated poems on here. The poem you keep ripping "attempting to write" was just tears on paper and it admits the fact that I was "attempting" to write. Unlike you though, I can write just having a bad time at the moment. So go and suck the blood outta someone else's arse
The ratings speak for your shitty and stupid poem.
Final thought: You may have posted top rated poetry here, but let it suffice to say that this isn't one of them. You should be ashamed of yourself for representing cancer stricken people and for slandering homosexuality with something that ONLY YOU think is funny. Grow up and start posting more meaningful verse.
"mon ghoul, i think you're maybe brushing aside the critical part here in poetry crit?"
yes joey i am - this is really not worth all the energy gone in to the (laugh) critques
its throw away spam poetry at best...
but, dude, we Are funny. like, i'm running on air, thinking that well, it's going to get worse and then i'll die. like, what do i think of that? and why the fuck should i care what a cockroach like you thinks about this poem. the poem has poetry value, it shapes the reader's consciousness. your consciousness is shaped by the diameter of your sphincter and i'm tired of people treating poetry as though it was a book report about a book by st. paul.
being into poetry is like being outside of death. you're into death, dude, because you're not a poet, not able to have any charity through creativity. joe muffinmoodle is still able to play with words and that's the genius of poetry, and life in the world where you live you can just say, "wow".
live to be a hundred and fifty, fucker, with your sanctimonious "meaningful poetry" swishes. living rot. no one will even notice.
mongol, the point is that the spirit of poetry is a reflection of the spirit of consciousness, not of the rational manifestations. we think opinions when we're supposed to think them -- when asked. that's not a universal and not a state where the universal can be approached -- if it were, it would be, "well, what the fuck do i really know about oil in arabia when it comes right down to it?" and that would be, what? "philosophically thinking", to the vulgar moment and nothing at all to consciousness except a re patterning, a repositioning outside the game of "have an opinion". talk radio proves that not to be a possible move in the "what do you think?" game.
read the poem out-loud. it's pretty funny. read it again to yourself. it's pathetic and reflective and a document of what might have been if this poor macmoodle hadn't died when he was ten.
posthumous is as posthumous does.
ahh low grade insults joey - personally i'd have though you a little beyond that by now - but oh well we learn by degree i guess..
this poem lacks merit of any kind - my initial commednt on it was all it deserved - it's not post-modern - not post-post-modern - it's a string of words lined up together in a space that gives the freedom to the individual the free space to lay the words out as they have... and really is all it is
the free space in which this piece was created is what should be being praised or remarked upon... not the rather pedestrian petulant rage against organised religion and the pseudo-homoeroticistic sex-riot apprently in the rather dull words strung together in the above poem...
sure... if you can halt the drivel excreting from yourself ... sure
mongol, follow the thread. that slam wasn't about you, even though it was under your post. we probably posted about the same time. my comment on your comment is the "talk radio comment", and i think it's the kind of comment that respects the original poster. i respect you.
when does ire turn into censorship, and why? this poem has movement and a pulse. it doesn't matter if it's saying bad stuff about mohammed and you all gotta start a fatwad against the author. we're all in denmark here, right? not in nashville.
this may be bad and may not be bad
but the good thing it does is piss you off.
does it piss you people off enough to get off your asses and write some good poems?
doe it piss you off enough to actually try to write and not just spew your emotions onto the internet for everyone to puke over?
get pissed and write
no, it doesn't piss me off enough to write a good poem, because it's not a good poem itself... it doesn't attack my biology and consciousness, only my funny bone and sense of boogy. it's a lamer piece because of its presumption that "poems suck but this is a poem, and you suck for reading it, but poems are gud" -- that you head is up your butt, and the dildo wouldn't fit, isn't the issue... that it makes the morons mad doesn't make the morons into poets. that takes talent, and they don't even have enough talent to read this. you got lucky with this little ditty, but i don't think you'd be able to do fifteen of them, and that's a vocational criteria for being a poet.
this verse thingy shows what poetry is about and should be looked at as poetry. it fails for me as poetry, but it might work for some other poetry sensibility. that it doesn't work for hallmark or the talibans don't mean much about poetry at all. they probably wouldn't like Ezra Pound either, cause of his feelings about stuff. and hemingway, the little cutipie, hated homos and look how the lamers can say, "hee wuz a great riter", clones and clowns.
"mongol, follow the thread. that slam wasn't about you, even though it was under your post. we probably posted about the same time. my comment on your comment is the "talk radio comment", and i think it's the kind of comment that respects the original poster. i respect you."
ah forgive for the misapprehension then joey - apologies :)
You guys seriously need to calm down.
And Joey you challenging me to write 15 of them? but nah that would be dull.
suicide is easy, as they say.
although I am think of a sequel.
"dull" totally shows where you're at, that the poem was a brain fart and you don't know how to make another. it's not that you'd clone it but that you'd do fifteen variations on you and your butt, cancer and dead toads, rainbow and plastic crayon box for the GLTG singalong, and that statue that you think's gonna get built for you for "telling the truth". it's an obit, as you can see, and if you can't write anymore than this than that flash is what's in the pan and looks like catfish.
oh dear. the title of this immediately strikes me as being an attention seeking work, trying to envoke controversy, to show that you can say what you want. we know this anyway.
generally, this is, well..
I fixed 'chute' and added an !.
You guys are like china dolls.
anyway, there is now a rather lame sequel to this called "Ass Man Speaks Somewhere". Check it out.
Best poem ever!
you're right, i like cancer fucks ass better. too many people take themselves wayyyy too seriously when they write poetry, everyone thinks their so deep and dark. i'll read this over joey's poems anyday.
Haha, telling me my poem is shit, and then I see this? Oh God, ha!
ever since cancer fucked my ass i haven't been able to shit let alone write it.
you god darn insensitive prick. you pricked my colostomy bag. Bastard!
Wow! People really hate this fried! I think it's low brow and ironic. Way to get people talking. Some people are so goddamned sensitive!
wow...i'm not sure why, but i don't hate this poem
best poem i've read today. speaks to me
okay, i'll live through this, hehe.
noodle thanks for putting this back at the top of recent commented... if only to remind me what an utterly crap writer the author of this drivel is....
and your personal circumstances of lifestyle is important how?
Attention whore, attention, whore: you can write worse,
butt please! Not more!
I don't think you need Poetry Critical so much as you need a Burger King bathroom and a good black felt-tip marker; maybe even a wall somewhere might work for you.
don't get too bourgeois, starr. your trailer-trash parodies aren't as good as this one.
At least I can write and make sense to the reader(s,) Mike. I don't sweat u. Others might, but I don't.
this is still more interesting as writing to anyone who has spirit and isn't a mall-rat.
starr, i have never read an intelligent critique from you. not of mine nor any other's work. the only reason people can read your work and your critiques is that you write like a fifth grader. that you're able, sometimes, to write a musical feeling under them makes your writing sometimes work, but i wouldn't get it into my head that you actually know how to write poetry, or that the city college instructors and car salesmen on the county fair committee who gave you a great big one thousand dollars were doing anything but picking 'cute'. if cute's what you want grab it fast, because you're getting old.
I like it...then again one of those people who other's never really got in the first place...so yeah...but I like, it's weird, but then again so am I