a kind of manice

[quaileyedsnowfish]

who is breaking my vows
of sudden inpulse
can't you see the difference
between light and dark
chosen my name to be the fickle strenght
of anouther
my small words tame the silent erapture
of fluent copy cat's
in a dark scene of knowing the art of silence
of a word that taps itself
inside of the voice that i own
now it seems that where falling
on a town of satelite triomph
for i have taken the floor inside your trap
that is overseen like a digger
inside of a flappy rain sign
i must commit myself to rawl
in this dark mellow lightning year
a strong ace on every sound
of magic tripping in an unknown wave
that we call holliness
so don't try to confuse me
as raindrops in the nightly moon
where we confess like beauty unraffeling
and blosseming in strange southern alikness
will you sound like us

[Violet]

who is breaking my vows
of sudden inpulse
can't you see the difference
between light and dark
chosen my name to be the fickle strenght
of anouther
my small words tame the silent erapture
of fluent copy cat's
in a dark scene of knowing the art of silence
of a word that taps itself
inside of the voice that i own
now it seems that where falling
on a town of satelite triomph
for i have taken the floor inside your trap
that is overseen like a digger
inside of a flappy rain sign
i must commit myself to rawl
in this dark mellow lightning year
a strong ace on every sound
of magic tripping in an unknown wave
that we call holliness
so don't try to confuse me
as raindrops in the nightly moon
where we confess like beauty unraffeling
and blosseming in strange southern alikness
will you sound like us

.. okay.. just a quick read, but here you're sounding more like Geoffrey to me.. but of course, given my aversion to Freud, I could be wrong. He would know, of course, though I'd never ask him, not wanting to back down from my position (on the couch.. the one he likes so mu-- I mean.. I don't like suggesting one thing, then realizing I'd rather be standing-- or. no. I mean

Anyway, I shall return later and see whether this poem has merit, no matter which fish did it, or why. I think you two should be married, by the way. And Father Byron can oversee the ceremony. And I can throw mys-- I mean, rice. Or, no, mice.

v.

[Violet]

.. okay.. now, I'm realizing.. if I just go on spelling alone.. (of the fishie name, I mean).. that you must be the original fishie person.. and so, maybe I can forego the mice, and we can just cook the rice. And So We All Lived Happily Ever After.

v.

[Violet]

.. okay.. now, I'm realizing.. if I just go on spelling alone.. (of the fishie name, I mean).. that you must be the original fishie person.. and so, maybe I can forego the mice, and we can just cook the rice. And So We All Lived Happily Ever After.

v.

who is call-out on parchment
with quiver all a quivering
who is investino in raiment foreign
and side-push on lonely boulevardness
as deprivation singing
with satellite doomy
in flattery of pancake
overseen like a herdsboy
I have lifted the trap-wall
entering on the way out of solemnities
trivialities dance like snowdropps
before the sunfresh
here now in Eastern duplicato
will echo my soulness

.. okay.. I'm starting this post all over again, but only because I'm having a truly lousy day. I'm sad, and none of these antics are helping.

Anyway, you are the two-eyed fish. I'm not sure what that means, just that you're not the one-eyed one, whom I was quite liking for a while there.

Okay, so..

.. I'll have think about this more.

v.

[Violet]

.. okay, I have decided that all three of these fishes (in and about this section of the forum) are manifestations of the same original fish, which is what I originally thought.

Nevertheless, given the apparent insistence of these fishie personas, it seems I am now in something of a polygafish situation, which is illegal, at least in the States, but actually could be britfish.. (now that I think about it).

.. okay, I have to consider fish more..

v.


later edit: I found another fish joke. g'night.

[Violet]

who is call-out on parchment
with quiver all a quivering
who is investino in raiment foreign
and side-push on lonely boulevardness
as deprivation singing
with satellite doomy
in flattery of pancake
overseen like a herdsboy
I have lifted the trap-wall
entering on the way out of solemnities
trivialities dance like snowdropps
before the sunfresh
here now in Eastern duplicato
will echo my soulness

I should be going to bed, but..

yes, I should go to bed..

.. before my mind's trivialities dance like snowdropps. Actually, I do sort of like the Eastern duplicato echoing your soulness. You know, you have a way of making cliches seem "sunfresh," do you realize that?.. almost as if you'd lifted the trap-wall off of pancake makeup. [good move, actually].. You know, even if it's just your list of johns, that you'd keep it on something as classy as "parchment" is pretty special. I mean, why skimp?.. oh, and the word quiver (especially quiver when it's quivering) actually does remind me of one thing, and one thing only.. 'course, you manage to be reminded of that one thing, and one thing only, at least half a dozen times a day, I would imagine. Wow.. what a racket. And yet, you've made it seem almost, well, "literary" somehow.. I mean, with "quiver all a quivering." [I can't believe I'm a bit turned-on]

Who is investino in raiment foreign? You know, commodities may be up at the moment, but I'd keep my dough where my wallet-silence is. (Oh, that was from another poem, wasn't it?.. wallet-silence).. Actually, I do like your calling your pimp a herdsboy. I suppose, when living the sort of life you do, it's tempting to romanticize, huh?.. By the way, that's a push-up bra, fishie.. or, at least I hope it is. I can't imagine what it would look like if it were pushing you sideways like that.. Walk the streets alone (indeed).. [never hurts to go for a Leonard plug when you can] [by the way, Leonard, I'm wondering how you are-- where you are.. but we'll talk later.. I'm sure you understand, I'm entirely wired today and need to write mindlessly]

.. actually, "satellite doomy" is nice.. It is a bit doomy, the thought of special ops zapping us with some sort of satellite laser weapon. I mean: poof! That should pretty much take care of all that lonely boulevardness.. that deprivation singing. Zappo! No more johns. No more quivers a quivering. Well, let's just hope all that Eastern duplicado does echo your soulness-- or else.. what?.. Nothin?.. well.. at least there's.. well, there's art.. or, well, writing, I mean.. I mean, at least we have that, fishie.. for now, I mean.. I mean, before we get, well, satellite-doomied, I guess..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyneXvwxITI&NR=1
FULL SCREEN..

.. probably a good note to go to bed on..

nightie night,
v.

later edit.. checking in here before bed.. one sentence bothered me.. couldn't quite get the joke right.. but I think I fixed it.