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    dots Submission Name: Verses on the Death of isselman2000dots

    Author: isselman2001
    Elite Ratio:    5.38 - 37/47/46
    Words: 704
    Class/Type: Poetry/Comedy
    Total Views: 1248
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4660


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsVerses on the Death of isselman2000dots

    Occasioned by his Death, and written by Himself.

    If there was once a hapless chap,
    Who loved the world, engaged in crap,
    And overall was fairly keen
    To leave his audience in spleen,
    Then, I bestow before your eyes
    A fairly miserly surprise:
    A mortal of the middling kind:
    Director, philanthrop; and blind,
    To all the pleasures of the world
    (From those he knew, he�d nearly hurled).
    Yes, this is but a tragic tale,
    Of one depressed, insecure, frail,
    Emotionally-challenged brat
    Who at society had spat,
    And cursed the paparazzi down
    While they were passing through his town;
    Engaged in reading of the Swifts,
    The Drydens, Miltons and the shifts
    In language he would, eager, note.
    Under an alias he wrote
    His parodies of big and small;
    And Swift he liked the best of all.

    Directed he the Chronotron; (1)
    The hearts of many he had won.
    But those who loved him, they were few�
    Those who admired him, were true,
    And stayed until the bitter end,
    When, hapless, he had scarce a friend,
    And half a trillion in debt,
    Which he had blown on booze and rent.

    I�m sure this prelude will suffice
    To warn of the exuberant vice
    That lies contained in this here poem;
    Then let me thus end this small proem.
    Allow me now to start my tale
    Of this enormous human Fail.

    Of all the tales that I did write,
    But one stands out as utter shite,
    Not for the simple fact that it
    Is poorly written or unfit
    For human breast or human mind
    (Or �cause it came from my behind),
    But simply for the fact that it
    Depicts a man that�s full of shit.

    His shelves, a million books would fill,
    Which hadn�t seen the day�until,
    To rag and tag the news had broke
    That old Untalent would soon croak;
    And by the time through town they ran,
    His humble shelves were spic and span.
    (I�d rather write about his shelf;
    Alas, the subject is himself.)

    His cronies all adored his tales
    Until the time his talents failed
    And, try as hard as he would do,
    He can�t have written nothing new!
    His rambling tales were none the rage;
    His poems stretched for twenty page,
    And he�d relate through twenty-six
    What in two couplets one could fix.

    He kindly gave to lesser folk,
    But they the devil would invoke
    When finding that his charity
    Was hardly fit for you and me:
    Old rags and garbage he would gift
    (Which surely from the streets he�d lift).
    His old subscribers, few and rare,
    Would compliment him here and there,
    But overall he was a hack.
    True talent he would, quick, attack,
    Yet, what was issued from his pen
    Was hardly worth a six from ten.

    Finally, once upon a day,
    Consented he to pass away.
    Oh, what a funeral he had!
    (Detractors, doubtless, weren�t too glad!)
    But overall, the man was poor;
    Of this those close to him were sure!
    His friends were wonderful and true,
    And would forgive him what was due,
    But still, he�d find the gall to curse
    Those friends and neighbors in his verse!
    And on his headstone they�d agree
    To write the following decree:

    A talent which no one had known
    Resided here, and here had grown,
    But one that, kind of like a pest
    Would everyone in town molest.
    What crud he left to his debtee;
    I wish He�ll not now come for me!
    And so, we call upon you all�
    Those who are big, those who are small:
    Denounce the name of this foul brat
    Who at society had spat;
    Take all the gold from his fair box
    (Surely it�s worth a hundred bucks!);
    Combine ye water with ye crud,
    Make sure ye makes the foulest mud
    And send his words�his papers�through the flood!

    The paths of glory led him to the grave,
    And he his fate accepted, headstrong, brave;
    And now along with me I wish you�ll pray.
    Except for this, I have not much to say:
    While lived, he lived and hardly made a sound;
    And once recalled, returned he to the ground.

    (1) www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyzhdNvjiIQ&feature=channel_page.

    Submitted on 2009-01-24 04:28:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      I love the surreal undercurrents of it all.

    Something i noticed is that almost every line, except for the epilogue and the line before it, had 8 beats per line. The epilogue and line before it had 10 beats.

    Very impressive feat to do that same rhythm throughout and keep the rhyme together. I respect that a lot.

    There's not much that comes to mind in regards to improving on it. But there are a couple of lines that seem to me to slow the progression of the story itself just a little too much. But I also see that they need to be there to keep the rhyme.

    You have eliteskills. Seriously.
    Definitely one of my favorites.
    | Posted on 2009-01-25 00:00:00 | by CaiZutto | [ Reply to This ]
      wow, what to say

    hmm embelish my ego for sakes of voice at times too.
    i think my ramblings might confuse you


    you really have to read this the whole way through with the exact same tempo for it to have affect. don't get me wrong, that works as a good thing.

    the sheer size
    i mean [censored] man

    out of 700 words there was like a hundred that rymed, and reading twice nothing stuck out repitituous.

    as far as content goes. well i say this alot, usually precursing where i start, but i have no clue where to start.

    very dark
    very surreal
    but amazing in form and shows insane level of potential if focused slightly more.

    still a fav. and i don't have a long list. i'm lacking kiss as words, but much respect.

    | Posted on 2009-01-24 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]

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