RC poetry
09-05-2006, 01:53 PM
#1
Senior Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Apr 2006
Location: coteau du lac,
QC, CANADA
Posts: 162
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RC poetry
present and futur
by Frednitrojunk
my evader rock,
but the tranny blew up.
my hpi mt2 suck,
it costs a lot to make it hot.
my mad force is dead,
i want a savage x ss instead.
i'll swap in all the electronic,
it's the only thing that is still working; how ironic.
i got miniTs, a silver and a blue,
and i got problems with them too.
i got to change the stock servo sh*t,
but standard 3 wires won't fit.
changing ESC and receiver cost cash,
best mini on the market? my *****!!
i want a Villlain to make it brushless,
someone say: wait for the super vee 27, it cost less.
it only got one propeller,
but the hull is better.
my '87 traxxas fiero is retired,
i think my next RC will be a rock crawler.
i'm addicted to this hobby forever,
my wife left me, i don't blame her.
on my tombstone, they will write: he's dead doing what he love,
and he is now riding RC from above.
thanks,
PS true story, but my wife didn't left me, she's actually LOL.
by Frednitrojunk
my evader rock,
but the tranny blew up.
my hpi mt2 suck,
it costs a lot to make it hot.
my mad force is dead,
i want a savage x ss instead.
i'll swap in all the electronic,
it's the only thing that is still working; how ironic.
i got miniTs, a silver and a blue,
and i got problems with them too.
i got to change the stock servo sh*t,
but standard 3 wires won't fit.
changing ESC and receiver cost cash,
best mini on the market? my *****!!
i want a Villlain to make it brushless,
someone say: wait for the super vee 27, it cost less.
it only got one propeller,
but the hull is better.
my '87 traxxas fiero is retired,
i think my next RC will be a rock crawler.
i'm addicted to this hobby forever,
my wife left me, i don't blame her.
on my tombstone, they will write: he's dead doing what he love,
and he is now riding RC from above.
thanks,
PS true story, but my wife didn't left me, she's actually LOL.
10-29-2006, 07:45 PM
#3
Member
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: kent,
WA
Posts: 66
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
Yep. Good stuff. For the Mini-T's Maybe you should put standard compatible electronics, like a Novak Spy or a Castle Mamba (If you want to go brushless) and a new receiver.
I have an Evader Pro, and I swear the tranny will break anytime, but luckily I pick the rocks out of it. Get a tiny flathead screwdriver (or some tweezers?). It makes a great tool for the job. Evaders are durable, except the tranny, toe-in arms, and servo saver. (Consider a MG servo someday if you haven't)
It stinks the Supervee 27 isn't available for Christmas...
Great idea for a tombstone inscription
I have an Evader Pro, and I swear the tranny will break anytime, but luckily I pick the rocks out of it. Get a tiny flathead screwdriver (or some tweezers?). It makes a great tool for the job. Evaders are durable, except the tranny, toe-in arms, and servo saver. (Consider a MG servo someday if you haven't)
It stinks the Supervee 27 isn't available for Christmas...
Great idea for a tombstone inscription
11-06-2006, 07:23 PM
#4
Junior Member
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: beverly hills, CA
Posts: 25
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
I will give it a try, but that poem is pretty funny and ironic at the same time!
First lap written by TheRcRacingDude:
Take off into turn one, one by one the warriors raid the berm.
Turn, two, blew my clutch shoe, and some glue off the rim.
Three over the tripple, flying with ease, a slight breeze at my back.
Four, floor it, pour it on, the annoucer is calling my name, im nearly number one.
Five, its turn five already, and I am ready to go into the chicane, insane SPEED!
Six, pick it up, inside, outside, diving and dipping, looking for the move, nearly there.
Seven, turn seven seems like a slice of dreamland; heaven, my heart is pouding my chest.
Eight, the straight-ahh way, one eighty down and into the fourty five bend, can I make it? You bet...
Nine, my line is in line with the fastest times of the day, a day, Sunday, the day known as FUN DAY, Monday never comes...
TEN, one more turn, then we do it again, for this lap is in the books...
First lap written by TheRcRacingDude:
Take off into turn one, one by one the warriors raid the berm.
Turn, two, blew my clutch shoe, and some glue off the rim.
Three over the tripple, flying with ease, a slight breeze at my back.
Four, floor it, pour it on, the annoucer is calling my name, im nearly number one.
Five, its turn five already, and I am ready to go into the chicane, insane SPEED!
Six, pick it up, inside, outside, diving and dipping, looking for the move, nearly there.
Seven, turn seven seems like a slice of dreamland; heaven, my heart is pouding my chest.
Eight, the straight-ahh way, one eighty down and into the fourty five bend, can I make it? You bet...
Nine, my line is in line with the fastest times of the day, a day, Sunday, the day known as FUN DAY, Monday never comes...
TEN, one more turn, then we do it again, for this lap is in the books...
11-07-2006, 05:42 PM
#5
Senior Member
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Riverside,
CA
Posts: 117
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
ORIGINAL: thercracingdude
I will give it a try, but that poem is pretty funny and ironic at the same time!
First lap written by TheRcRacingDude:
Take off into turn one, one by one the warriors raid the berm.
Turn, two, blew my clutch shoe, and some glue off the rim.
Three over the tripple, flying with ease, a slight breeze at my back.
Four, floor it, pour it on, the annoucer is calling my name, im nearly number one.
Five, its turn five already, and I am ready to go into the chicane, insane SPEED!
Six, pick it up, inside, outside, diving and dipping, looking for the move, nearly there.
Seven, turn seven seems like a slice of dreamland; heaven, my heart is pouding my chest.
Eight, the straight-ahh way, one eighty down and into the fourty five bend, can I make it? You bet...
Nine, my line is in line with the fastest times of the day, a day, Sunday, the day known as FUN DAY, Monday never comes...
TEN, one more turn, then we do it again, for this lap is in the books...
I will give it a try, but that poem is pretty funny and ironic at the same time!
First lap written by TheRcRacingDude:
Take off into turn one, one by one the warriors raid the berm.
Turn, two, blew my clutch shoe, and some glue off the rim.
Three over the tripple, flying with ease, a slight breeze at my back.
Four, floor it, pour it on, the annoucer is calling my name, im nearly number one.
Five, its turn five already, and I am ready to go into the chicane, insane SPEED!
Six, pick it up, inside, outside, diving and dipping, looking for the move, nearly there.
Seven, turn seven seems like a slice of dreamland; heaven, my heart is pouding my chest.
Eight, the straight-ahh way, one eighty down and into the fourty five bend, can I make it? You bet...
Nine, my line is in line with the fastest times of the day, a day, Sunday, the day known as FUN DAY, Monday never comes...
TEN, one more turn, then we do it again, for this lap is in the books...
12-22-2006, 10:31 PM
#6
RE: RC poetry
Here's my Christmas poem.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hangar
Not an engine was running, not even a four banger;
All the windsocks were hung by the workbench with care,
In the hopes that new model parts soon would be there;
The modellers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of aircraft did loops in their heads;
And my wife dreaming quietly of new gardening things;
I laid there hoping for gifts that had wings.
When out on the lawn there arose such a noise,
Louder than the engines in my RC toys;
Away to the window I flew like a jet,
I couldn't run faster, not on a bet.
The house lights shining on the new fallen snow,
Made it look like a flyby, o'er the objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature aircraft. Had I drunk too much beer?
It dashed and it danced and it pranced like a star,
Better than my planes, yes better by far;
Over the porch. then over the wall;
The plane kept on climbing. It just wouldn't stall.
I was amazed how it swept and flew through the sky,
That was a plane that I wanted to fly;
Up to the rooftop the airplane it flew,
Someone is flying it, someone, but who?
And then with a buzzing I heard on the roof,
Who could it be? I need some proof.
As I turned away from the window ledge,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with an Edge.
My eyes. how they bugged out! The plane was so sporty,
I could hardly believe he brought an Edge 540.
On the tail of the plane there was tied a big bow,
With everything installed it was ready to go.
He spoke not a word and went straight to his work,
I stood there drooling, and felt like a jerk;
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his airplane, and to me gave a laugh,
"You can fly it tomorrow just don't crash the aircraft",
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND CHARGE IT BEFORE FLIGHT!"
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hangar
Not an engine was running, not even a four banger;
All the windsocks were hung by the workbench with care,
In the hopes that new model parts soon would be there;
The modellers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of aircraft did loops in their heads;
And my wife dreaming quietly of new gardening things;
I laid there hoping for gifts that had wings.
When out on the lawn there arose such a noise,
Louder than the engines in my RC toys;
Away to the window I flew like a jet,
I couldn't run faster, not on a bet.
The house lights shining on the new fallen snow,
Made it look like a flyby, o'er the objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature aircraft. Had I drunk too much beer?
It dashed and it danced and it pranced like a star,
Better than my planes, yes better by far;
Over the porch. then over the wall;
The plane kept on climbing. It just wouldn't stall.
I was amazed how it swept and flew through the sky,
That was a plane that I wanted to fly;
Up to the rooftop the airplane it flew,
Someone is flying it, someone, but who?
And then with a buzzing I heard on the roof,
Who could it be? I need some proof.
As I turned away from the window ledge,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with an Edge.
My eyes. how they bugged out! The plane was so sporty,
I could hardly believe he brought an Edge 540.
On the tail of the plane there was tied a big bow,
With everything installed it was ready to go.
He spoke not a word and went straight to his work,
I stood there drooling, and felt like a jerk;
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his airplane, and to me gave a laugh,
"You can fly it tomorrow just don't crash the aircraft",
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND CHARGE IT BEFORE FLIGHT!"
12-23-2006, 10:41 PM
#7
Senior Member
Join Date: May 2005
Location: Grayson,
GA
Posts: 661
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
Bipeflyer,
Very nice! I love it! Here's mine. It is a song, though. It is to the tune of "Winter Wonderland".
Engines run, can you hear them?
Down the field, as it's running.
It's very loud
It creates a smoke cloud
It's another great day at the field.
Look at that, another mid-air.
Look at everybody stare.
It's really sad,
That crash was so bad.
It's another great day at the field.
In the field we can go a'searching.
For a plane that Jerry somehow lost.
How the heck did he find that?
I guess it's time that plane should be retired.
I'm going home, with everything
Still in one piece, and I'm done flying.
Only for the day
Is all I can say
It was another great day at the field.
It might sound strange, but it'll do. Merry Christmas!!!!
Very nice! I love it! Here's mine. It is a song, though. It is to the tune of "Winter Wonderland".
Engines run, can you hear them?
Down the field, as it's running.
It's very loud
It creates a smoke cloud
It's another great day at the field.
Look at that, another mid-air.
Look at everybody stare.
It's really sad,
That crash was so bad.
It's another great day at the field.
In the field we can go a'searching.
For a plane that Jerry somehow lost.
How the heck did he find that?
I guess it's time that plane should be retired.
I'm going home, with everything
Still in one piece, and I'm done flying.
Only for the day
Is all I can say
It was another great day at the field.
It might sound strange, but it'll do.
Merry Christmas!!!!
12-24-2006, 04:17 AM
#9
Senior Member
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Manheim ,
PA
Posts: 2,599
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
ORIGINAL: Bipe Flyer
Here's my Christmas poem.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hangar
Not an engine was running, not even a four banger;
All the windsocks were hung by the workbench with care,
In the hopes that new model parts soon would be there;
The modellers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of aircraft did loops in their heads;
And my wife dreaming quietly of new gardening things;
I laid there hoping for gifts that had wings.
When out on the lawn there arose such a noise,
Louder than the engines in my RC toys;
Away to the window I flew like a jet,
I couldn't run faster, not on a bet.
The house lights shining on the new fallen snow,
Made it look like a flyby, o'er the objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature aircraft. Had I drunk too much beer?
It dashed and it danced and it pranced like a star,
Better than my planes, yes better by far;
Over the porch. then over the wall;
The plane kept on climbing. It just wouldn't stall.
I was amazed how it swept and flew through the sky,
That was a plane that I wanted to fly;
Up to the rooftop the airplane it flew,
Someone is flying it, someone, but who?
And then with a buzzing I heard on the roof,
Who could it be? I need some proof.
As I turned away from the window ledge,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with an Edge.
My eyes. how they bugged out! The plane was so sporty,
I could hardly believe he brought an Edge 540.
On the tail of the plane there was tied a big bow,
With everything installed it was ready to go.
He spoke not a word and went straight to his work,
I stood there drooling, and felt like a jerk;
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his airplane, and to me gave a laugh,
"You can fly it tomorrow just don't crash the aircraft",
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND CHARGE IT BEFORE FLIGHT!"
Here's my Christmas poem.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hangar
Not an engine was running, not even a four banger;
All the windsocks were hung by the workbench with care,
In the hopes that new model parts soon would be there;
The modellers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of aircraft did loops in their heads;
And my wife dreaming quietly of new gardening things;
I laid there hoping for gifts that had wings.
When out on the lawn there arose such a noise,
Louder than the engines in my RC toys;
Away to the window I flew like a jet,
I couldn't run faster, not on a bet.
The house lights shining on the new fallen snow,
Made it look like a flyby, o'er the objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a miniature aircraft. Had I drunk too much beer?
It dashed and it danced and it pranced like a star,
Better than my planes, yes better by far;
Over the porch. then over the wall;
The plane kept on climbing. It just wouldn't stall.
I was amazed how it swept and flew through the sky,
That was a plane that I wanted to fly;
Up to the rooftop the airplane it flew,
Someone is flying it, someone, but who?
And then with a buzzing I heard on the roof,
Who could it be? I need some proof.
As I turned away from the window ledge,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with an Edge.
My eyes. how they bugged out! The plane was so sporty,
I could hardly believe he brought an Edge 540.
On the tail of the plane there was tied a big bow,
With everything installed it was ready to go.
He spoke not a word and went straight to his work,
I stood there drooling, and felt like a jerk;
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his airplane, and to me gave a laugh,
"You can fly it tomorrow just don't crash the aircraft",
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND CHARGE IT BEFORE FLIGHT!"
That was good. Funny and it made sence, I love the "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND CHARGE IT BEFORE FLIGHT"
12-24-2006, 04:26 PM
#11
RE: RC poetry
A good thread never dies, it just lies dormant for a while. 
OK, here's another poem of mine. Done after Poe's "The Raven".
Build Some More
Once upon a midnight dreary, building planes with eyesight bleary,
Over paint and dope and glue having fallen on the floor,
While I modelled, nearly covering, there came a presence near me hovering,
As if someone menacingly watching me from the door.
"'Tis my wife," I muttered as I headed to the door.
Tomorrow night I'll build some more.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And each and every club member came to fly their planes no more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow, but it too was met with sorrow,
I wished I could simply borrow, weather from the months before.
Yes the bright and radiant sun, which had brought such warmth before.
I guess I'll just build some more.
One morning sulken, sad, uncertain I hopefully drew back the curtain,
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic hope never felt before;
So that now, I stopped my pining, the sun stood brightly shining,
I grabbed the plane I was designing, and headed out the front door,
The car engine started whining, even as I closed the door.
I'm glad I have to build no more.
Presently my joy grew stronger, the field was empty no longer,
People had come from miles around, their planes taken out of store,
I was so proud of my covering, some show off was out there hovering,
And soon there was a pleasant sound, sound that I had heard before.
I was beaming, glow engine screaming as it had done some months before.
'Tis my turn to fly some more.
While turning the plane and steering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Dreading, wondering thoughts many modellers had thought before;
Had I put my plane on charge, I haven't flown this one since March,
And then it happened, I lost control, it never happened to me before,
I was too eager, my charge too meagre, never plugged it in the night before.
It hit the ground and was no more.
Back to the car I was turning, all my soul within me burning,
If only I had pondered what the day might have in store,
"Surely," I said, "surely, there is something left of my airplane."
I pick up the mangled airframe, got in the car and closed the door.
My heart hung low then lifted, I could go to the hobby store.
I'll just go home and build some more.
OK, here's another poem of mine. Done after Poe's "The Raven".
Build Some More
Once upon a midnight dreary, building planes with eyesight bleary,
Over paint and dope and glue having fallen on the floor,
While I modelled, nearly covering, there came a presence near me hovering,
As if someone menacingly watching me from the door.
"'Tis my wife," I muttered as I headed to the door.
Tomorrow night I'll build some more.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And each and every club member came to fly their planes no more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow, but it too was met with sorrow,
I wished I could simply borrow, weather from the months before.
Yes the bright and radiant sun, which had brought such warmth before.
I guess I'll just build some more.
One morning sulken, sad, uncertain I hopefully drew back the curtain,
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic hope never felt before;
So that now, I stopped my pining, the sun stood brightly shining,
I grabbed the plane I was designing, and headed out the front door,
The car engine started whining, even as I closed the door.
I'm glad I have to build no more.
Presently my joy grew stronger, the field was empty no longer,
People had come from miles around, their planes taken out of store,
I was so proud of my covering, some show off was out there hovering,
And soon there was a pleasant sound, sound that I had heard before.
I was beaming, glow engine screaming as it had done some months before.
'Tis my turn to fly some more.
While turning the plane and steering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Dreading, wondering thoughts many modellers had thought before;
Had I put my plane on charge, I haven't flown this one since March,
And then it happened, I lost control, it never happened to me before,
I was too eager, my charge too meagre, never plugged it in the night before.
It hit the ground and was no more.
Back to the car I was turning, all my soul within me burning,
If only I had pondered what the day might have in store,
"Surely," I said, "surely, there is something left of my airplane."
I pick up the mangled airframe, got in the car and closed the door.
My heart hung low then lifted, I could go to the hobby store.
I'll just go home and build some more.
12-27-2006, 11:42 AM
#12
Senior Member
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Riverside,
CA
Posts: 117
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
ORIGINAL: Bipe Flyer
A good thread never dies, it just lies dormant for a while.
OK, here's another poem of mine. Done after Poe's "The Raven".
Build Some More
Once upon a midnight dreary, building planes with eyesight bleary,
Over paint and dope and glue having fallen on the floor,
While I modelled, nearly covering, there came a presence near me hovering,
As if someone menacingly watching me from the door.
"'Tis my wife," I muttered as I headed to the door.
Tomorrow night I'll build some more.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And each and every club member came to fly their planes no more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow, but it too was met with sorrow,
I wished I could simply borrow, weather from the months before.
Yes the bright and radiant sun, which had brought such warmth before.
I guess I'll just build some more.
One morning sulken, sad, uncertain I hopefully drew back the curtain,
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic hope never felt before;
So that now, I stopped my pining, the sun stood brightly shining,
I grabbed the plane I was designing, and headed out the front door,
The car engine started whining, even as I closed the door.
I'm glad I have to build no more.
Presently my joy grew stronger, the field was empty no longer,
People had come from miles around, their planes taken out of store,
I was so proud of my covering, some show off was out there hovering,
And soon there was a pleasant sound, sound that I had heard before.
I was beaming, glow engine screaming as it had done some months before.
'Tis my turn to fly some more.
While turning the plane and steering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Dreading, wondering thoughts many modellers had thought before;
Had I put my plane on charge, I haven't flown this one since March,
And then it happened, I lost control, it never happened to me before,
I was too eager, my charge too meagre, never plugged it in the night before.
It hit the ground and was no more.
Back to the car I was turning, all my soul within me burning,
If only I had pondered what the day might have in store,
"Surely," I said, "surely, there is something left of my airplane."
I pick up the mangled airframe, got in the car and closed the door.
My heart hung low then lifted, I could go to the hobby store.
I'll just go home and build some more.
A good thread never dies, it just lies dormant for a while.
OK, here's another poem of mine. Done after Poe's "The Raven".
Build Some More
Once upon a midnight dreary, building planes with eyesight bleary,
Over paint and dope and glue having fallen on the floor,
While I modelled, nearly covering, there came a presence near me hovering,
As if someone menacingly watching me from the door.
"'Tis my wife," I muttered as I headed to the door.
Tomorrow night I'll build some more.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November,
And each and every club member came to fly their planes no more.
Eagerly I wished the morrow, but it too was met with sorrow,
I wished I could simply borrow, weather from the months before.
Yes the bright and radiant sun, which had brought such warmth before.
I guess I'll just build some more.
One morning sulken, sad, uncertain I hopefully drew back the curtain,
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic hope never felt before;
So that now, I stopped my pining, the sun stood brightly shining,
I grabbed the plane I was designing, and headed out the front door,
The car engine started whining, even as I closed the door.
I'm glad I have to build no more.
Presently my joy grew stronger, the field was empty no longer,
People had come from miles around, their planes taken out of store,
I was so proud of my covering, some show off was out there hovering,
And soon there was a pleasant sound, sound that I had heard before.
I was beaming, glow engine screaming as it had done some months before.
'Tis my turn to fly some more.
While turning the plane and steering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Dreading, wondering thoughts many modellers had thought before;
Had I put my plane on charge, I haven't flown this one since March,
And then it happened, I lost control, it never happened to me before,
I was too eager, my charge too meagre, never plugged it in the night before.
It hit the ground and was no more.
Back to the car I was turning, all my soul within me burning,
If only I had pondered what the day might have in store,
"Surely," I said, "surely, there is something left of my airplane."
I pick up the mangled airframe, got in the car and closed the door.
My heart hung low then lifted, I could go to the hobby store.
I'll just go home and build some more.
Gabe Boudreau
12-27-2006, 11:48 AM
#13
Senior Member
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Riverside,
CA
Posts: 117
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
Now, here is a poem I wrote for my wife several years ago. It is timeless if you ask me. It has really nothing to do with R/C but, she is my R/C wife so I think that will count. (She helped me set up my "pit" area last night in our back yard track for testing purposes. Now that is a wife who LOVES what her man does.)
Here it goes:
Girl On Water - By: Gabriel Boudreau 11-1-2004
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry
I wrote this for Kirsta...I like it...just an example of some of my works.
Gabriel
---------------------------------------
'Girl on Water'
Krista, tan brunette lovley lion.......
beast in the sheet's of white.......
animal furry of the 'Cock' stroke........
she glides languidley down the hall..........
floating on stars and stripes................
she opens the doors of thought and reason, during this season.
all the wolves have poets in them.........
she dances in a ring of fury, and shrugs off the challenge with a nod............
calling me in; her warm cave; she calls and becons me home....
my eye is in her mind of time....
my head thumps at her chest....her chest knocks the monkeys around the horse lattitude....
polished white chrome gold...lament for the reason of time.......
purple gaze of the spawns conceit........
End.........of............time..............retrea t..........never.........mind
Here it goes:
Girl On Water - By: Gabriel Boudreau 11-1-2004
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Writing and Poetry
I wrote this for Kirsta...I like it...just an example of some of my works.
Gabriel
---------------------------------------
'Girl on Water'
Krista, tan brunette lovley lion.......
beast in the sheet's of white.......
animal furry of the 'Cock' stroke........
she glides languidley down the hall..........
floating on stars and stripes................
she opens the doors of thought and reason, during this season.
all the wolves have poets in them.........
she dances in a ring of fury, and shrugs off the challenge with a nod............
calling me in; her warm cave; she calls and becons me home....
my eye is in her mind of time....
my head thumps at her chest....her chest knocks the monkeys around the horse lattitude....
polished white chrome gold...lament for the reason of time.......
purple gaze of the spawns conceit........
End.........of............time..............retrea t..........never.........mind
01-01-2007, 11:14 AM
#14
Senior Member
My Feedback: (12)
Join Date: Dec 2001
Location: Castle,
OK
Posts: 171
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
RE: RC poetry
Man "Build Some More" is a masterpiece. Awesome really!
Heres mine
I once went and spent pretty penny.
For 2 planes and named them both Jenny.
But soon I did find, they were poorly designed,
now instead of 2 planes, I've not any.
Heres mine
I once went and spent pretty penny.
For 2 planes and named them both Jenny.
But soon I did find, they were poorly designed,
now instead of 2 planes, I've not any.
