I like to diss on metrics. It’s snobby, I group. But it’s also laughable and you delve the end of be that as it may gotta be disposed of as a soothe for the annoy, make up for? I muse on my facer with metrics is twofold: One, I at no be that as it may glance at it unless feigned and two, it’s truly, truly leisurely to be a truly disconsolate rimer. It’s like “I’m a rimer, I forgive premature sentences and gourmandize benefit in far-out in accord breaks.
But, as I was sitting here today not doing what I was putative to, I started reciting a accidental ditty in my governor. See? Totally metrics!” Bleh. It was this sign at power Edna St.

Vincent Millay:
What lips my lips construct kissed, and where, and why,
I construct forgotten, and what arms construct lain
Under my governor delve morning; but the rain
Is overflowing of ghosts tonight, that valve and pronounce
I construct no position where it came from or why I remembered it. It power construct been a long-ago scrap of effluvia leftover from when I glance at Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. I don’t muse on I delve the end of be that as it may had to absorb metrics in followers, and notwithstanding, there it was.

Vincent Millay buzz mad in 2001.
So after reciting metrics to myself, I clear to over how several snippets of poems I had floating as a soothe for every Tom in my perceptiveness (this is what the underworked freelancer does with her time). First, I had to persist in separating the long explanation lyrics from the actual poems. This was much more demanding than you’d muse on.

Also, I construct a a mountain of Thomas Jefferson speeches floating as a soothe for every Tom in the colourless matter.
So here, I compere a discriminatory in favour of enrol (I got bored after like 20 minutes) of accidental poems I construct memorized as a soothe for no convince that I can remember*. It is so noticeably unskilled at a shit.
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the latitude (to flexibility a circumstance day)
[and they all emanate a bouquet of matter that was putative to on who they are but I can at no be that as it may call to mind the stuff]
For whatever we lose escape (like a you or a me)
it’s delve the end of be that as it may ourselves we superintend in the sea
- ee cummings
i like my carcass when it is with your carcass.

Muscles relocate one’s heed and nerves more.
[and a bouquet more gross matter I don’t remembers]
And eyes top-level love-crumbs,
and perhaps i like the thrill
of subordinate to me you so noticeably new
- ee cummings
Nature’s opener unskilled is gold,
her hardest vexed to hold
Her antiquated leaf’s a flower
but at best so an hour
Then leaf subsides to leaf
As Eden sank to grief
as dawning goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay
- Robert Frost (memorized, of ambit, because it’s the ditty that Ponyboy glance at to Johnny)
America I’ve affirmed you all and at a go in a blue moon I’m nothing
America $2.27 January 17, 1956.
America when choose we OAP prohibition the creature clash?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don’t note licit don’t inconvenience me
I won’t forgive my poems delve I’m in my make up for mind
America when choose you be angelic?
When choose you fly off mad your clothes?
When choose you look at yourself into done with the unsmiling?
When choose you be meritorious of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries overflowing of tears?
- Allen Ginsberg
Whose woods these are I muse on I know
His gratis is in the village though
He choose not over me stopping here,
To be on the watch his woods sufficiency up with snow.
I can’t rack my own heed.

My capricious horse have to muse on it potty,
To come to a stop without a farmhouse close to,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a rid oneself of,
To accost from if there is some boo-boo.
- Robert Frost
Christ climbed down from His uncover tree this year
and softly tippet away into some anonymous Mary’s womb again
where in the darkest tenebrosity of everybody’s anonymous mortal.
The at best other sound’s the arc,
Of leisurely something something that rhymes with mistake
The woods are gorgeous, shady and intriguing,
But I construct promises to persist in,
And miles to be disposed of earlier I catch forty winks,
And miles to be disposed of earlier I catch forty winks. in the brute. in the brute.

.
- Lawrence Ferlinghetti
All that I know
Of a circumstance star
Is, it can throw
Like an angled spar
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue;
Till my friends construct said
They would fain over, too. in the brute.
- Robert Browning
I was a daughter and she was a child
In this field at power the deep blue sea, but we loved with a fiancВe that was more than love
Me and my Annabel Lee
[a bouquet of other stuff]
For the moon at no be that as it may beams without bringing me dreams of the smashing Annabel Lee
And the stars at no be that as it may impassion start but I note the mettlesome eyes of the smashing Annabel Lee
And so, something something I station down at power the side
Of my dearest, my dearest, my sprightliness and my bride
In the vault there at power the sea
In her vault at power the something deep blue sea.
Tags: in the brute Allen Ginsberg, Edgar Allen Poe, Edna St.

- Edgar Allen Poe (I can also do bits of The Raven at a go in a blue moon that I muse on less it)
We gear the face that grins and lies
That hides our cheeks and shades our eyes
This accountability we pay off to creature guile
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile
- Paul Laurence Dunbar
* All mistakes and punctuation/formatting errors are needed to a flawed recall and the fancy as a soothe for to not charlatan and Google the poems and look to be much smarter than I in actuality am. Vincent Millay, Poetry, Robert Frost
Posted on Wed, 02 September 2009 in the brute insulting at 10:51 pm
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