Spill yer guts.

General discussions of interest to readers and fans of Harlan Ellison.

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Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue Apr 02, 2013 7:22 pm

Republican Jesus


Republican Jesus says

Why should I die for their sins? They need to get out of their trailers and get a fucking job. They deserve to die for their own sins.



Republican Jesus says

The Rich shall inherit the earth. They’ve proven that they are the strongest, smartest and most aggressive. They have earned the right to rule with an iron fist.



Republican Jesus says

Love thy neighbor, especially if they have direct access to the State Senate. How else can you get a tax break for your polluting corporation?



Republican Jesus says

If any of you want to be my follower, you must embrace your selfish ways, take up your checkbook, and vote for me.



Republican Jesus says

Who in the hell does this Ellison guy think he is, anyway?

Tim Raven

Tim Raven
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Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue Apr 02, 2013 7:27 pm

Funniest words / phrases in the English language

I’m compiling a list:

1. colostomy bag
2. chin strap
3. corn kernels
4. skid mark
5. a duck
6. peanuts
7. zebra hoofs
8. slapping nipples with a ruler
9. nipple bits
10 construction hat
11 hillbillies
12. banjoes
13. cheese mobile
14. Buzz Aldrin
15. Uranus
16. klingons
17. whale farts

Well, I guess you gotta be kind of high to get it.

Tim Raven

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue Apr 02, 2013 7:31 pm

A Diatribe in Orange

I am an Orange
Oh Yes I am
And it takes big Orange balls
To write a poem about Orange
Because no one
Right or Wrong
Can rhyme the word Orange
Even on a good day
So go ahead
And fucking eat one
instead

Tim Raven - May 4th, 2011

Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue Apr 02, 2013 7:51 pm

He seemed so nice

I am afraid
of getting up in the morning
I am afraid
of trying new things
I am afraid
of writing poetry
because of the bad stuff that I might sing.

I am afraid
that I am a failure
I am afraid
that I’m losing my sanity
I am afraid
that I’ve become weak
and afraid of
This March of Time…

and I am afraid
of
You.

So watch out – frightened animals
tend to bite.


Tim Raven

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FrankChurch
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby FrankChurch » Wed Apr 03, 2013 9:20 am

Clinics for cliches

deathbeds for bad vibes

gravestones for pitiless birds

Moonstone for mad eyes

Barking dogs, baneful cats

Earthquake vibes waking the rats

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Lori Koonce
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Lori Koonce » Wed Apr 03, 2013 12:27 pm

Mr Raven

First of all let me thank you for the last poem you posted. It,s nice to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

And I also wanted to thank you for what you said about my last posting. I thought I was getting a little Sylvia Plath on ya all. But, as in life I try to find that silver linings where I can.

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Rick Keeney
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Location: Minneapolis, MN

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Rick Keeney » Wed Apr 03, 2013 2:56 pm

orange = door hinge

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Chuck Messer
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Location: Lakewood, Colorado

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Chuck Messer » Wed Apr 03, 2013 10:05 pm

Tim: He Seemed So Nice. I've certainly felt that way. Some days, I just want to unplug the phone and stay in my coccoon.

Chuck
Some people are wedded to their ideology the way nuns are wed to God.

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Chuck Messer
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Chuck Messer » Wed Apr 03, 2013 10:20 pm

And now for a little psychedelic frivolity:

THE PINK BONOBO IS STEALING MY PURPLE STRAWBERRIES!

Violet monkeys are sliding down the refulgent moon as the cows watch and applaud. The clackclackclack of their hooves irritate the lemon yellow pringle tingles who flingle lit sparklers at the horned bovines who trample the rocking horse people as they flee from what they think are falling stars.

Peter Max shouts, "HUMM-HA-HUMM! HUMM-HA-HUMM!!" as the pringle tingles ruin yet another virtual painting he was slathering on the burbling LCD screen.

"WHAT HO!" he shouts as he dances the fandango and tramples the melting picture.

Tumbling starfishmen sing out rainbow sprays of color, cooling down the overheated artist as they shout, "HUP-HO! HUP-HO! HUP-HO!" and toss lemon heads at the lemon yellow pringle tingles who trudge away, muttering, "Misp, misp, misp."

Brought to you by the Magic Mushroom Council. Void where prohibited. Some restrictions may apply. Adults prohibited unless accompanied by a child. Some side effects such as a mild rash and extreme flatulence may occur.
Some people are wedded to their ideology the way nuns are wed to God.

paul
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby paul » Thu Apr 04, 2013 12:52 pm

Checking in. Work and alla that. Be back to talk in a bit, but I just want to say this is a great thread, and youse guys are great, and the whole of the conversation is, as they say, all good. See you soon.
The medium is the message.

Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Fri Apr 05, 2013 1:32 am

Off Ensenada

I was staring at the ocean
off the coast of Mexico
and I began to notice
that the cufflinks
don’t match the shoes on this guy

He was screaming at the top of his range
“I’ll fuck you up, bitch, I’ll fuck you up!”
His four friends held him back
as the drunken woman fled.

I was staring at the ocean
off the coast of Mexico
and I could see them
jinking
behind me
in a reflection
on the salt covered window.

“I’ll fuck you up, bitch! ” he said yet again.
to empty air

So.

I threw back my beer
and ordered another.
When Security showed up
as usual
It was all over.

I continued staring at the ocean
off the coast of Mexico
while he was bragging to his friends

how he could’ve fucked up that bitch again.

He entered the tiny bathroom
and I followed him in
he opened the stall and turned around
annoyed that I came in
I smashed him in his fucking face
His skull made the sound that a coconut makes
as it bounced against the tile
I pulled out my crank
and began my piss
unable to shake this thought

This

that the goddamn cufflinks
don’t match
the motherfucking
shoes on this guy.

Back at the bar.
I sat on my stool.
And signaled for a phone.
With a steady gaze on the ocean
off the coast of Mexico.


Tim Raven

Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Fri Apr 05, 2013 1:36 am

I Want to Fuck the Sun

I know the sun
will rise tomorrow
in shame
fat old sun
how many more days
will you reign?
shining shit
bringer of pain
and pleasure
you tempted me with your flame
as I kissed you
and fucked you
so hard and sweet and slow…
you’re so hot
fat old sun
how little
you
know
or
care.

Tim Raven

Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Fri Apr 05, 2013 1:41 am

String Theory

string theory
explains murder
and rocking chairs
a hot needle
or
a black hole
all consisting of the exact same thing
vibrating
at different frequencies
and amplitudes
remaining unknowable
but beautiful
far deep inside our own crude tears

Tim Raven

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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Moderator » Fri Apr 05, 2013 3:34 pm

Post from Frank Church deleted by Moderator

Frank, um, no.

Real contri, fine. That of baloney posted above...not on this thread. Nuf sed?
- I love to find adventure. All I need is a change of clothes, my Nikon, an open mind and a strong cup of coffee.

Tim Raven
Posts: 255
Joined: Wed Dec 22, 2010 10:30 pm

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Fri Apr 05, 2013 11:36 pm

Frank, very clever.
I still like your banana line.

It’s a casual off-hand snark. I have been assaulted, insulted and others have put their hands on me and cost me large amounts of money that I shouldn’t have paid in a fair world.
So your snarky comment doesn’t even blow back my hair even a millimeter. I’ve been in moments where I had to decide to either stick the knife into their liver or not. And every single time, as it wasn’t my life on the line, and there is no one that can best me in a fight, it was my fucking temper that required lethal action. Oh so close, oh so close so many times I really wanted to do it, to slip it in even when I was out of my mind in different ways.
Drunk.
High.
I’ve felt that moment. I’ve felt that moment in my mind that says…”You are dead if I choose, and you and your big mouth don’t even realize it.”
Frank – I like you.
I wrote that poem after Ray died. I hated his stuff as a young man in the seventies. I thought he was a pussy. When he passed away, I re-read The Martian Chronicles.
Stupendous.
It meant something magnificently different to me as a more mature man. I saw the value, the significance of his work.
So, when he passed away, I tried to do a requiem. And I couldn’t do it. So, “I Want To Fuck The Sun” was the result. Maybe not the actual intended thing, but writing is a slippery thing.
Right?

Frank, don’t shit on my poems.

Tim Raven


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