THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

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THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Tisis Antony on Fri Nov 02, 2012 10:06 pm

Yo Biznitches and Biznatches- we got outselves some SICK FIRES YO, and we gonna FAN THAT SHIT. Hear yo? GOOD. The RULES, BITCHES, FOLLOW THEM:

-Maximum of 16 (sixteen) lines,
-Maximum of 20 (twenty) words per line
-Any STYLE of poem is accepted (excluding rap, which needs beats or music)
-IF YOU INSIST THAT RAP SHOULD BE ACCEPTED, be warned that it won't be graded with the rest
-All poems must on one level be associated with the THEME
-The author must state the theme of the week at the beginning of the post
-The author must explain the connection to the theme



WE WILL GRADE POEMS IN A DIFFERENT WAY EACH WEEK BECAUSE WE ARE FUCKING SICK LIKE THAT BRO-

The Theme of November 1-7 is VALHALLA, THE PANSY ASS HALL OF THE PANSY ASS FAKE GODS AND THEIR PANSY ASS WAIT FOR RAGNAROK

Valhalla Prizes:





__________


A definition of 'skeezy'.


Last edited by Tisis Antony on Fri Nov 09, 2012 5:09 pm; edited 6 times in total
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Freyia on Fri Nov 02, 2012 10:17 pm

The Theme of November 1-7 is VALHALLA, THE PANSY ASS HALL OF THE PANSY ASS FAKE GODS AND THEIR PANSY ASS WAIT FOR RAGNAROK


In battles lost and struggles cease,
The spirit leaves while the body sleeps,
Your time is over, your fight is done,
No go and rest in the eternal sun,
Your song we will sing, and drink we will raise,
For those that are lost, we will see again some day.

And when that day comes, and we fall to the knees,
Our battle is lost as our souls become free,
The time is now, we answer the call,
To feast to our limit, in the eternal hall,
We'll sing our songs, and drink our mead,
For in the land of honor, we'll be without need.

Beauty in body, mind, and spirit,
Honor and Valhalla awaits you

Um, fairly obvious connection I think.


Last edited by Freyia on Fri Nov 02, 2012 10:34 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Johan Tercel on Fri Nov 02, 2012 10:26 pm

The Theme of November 1-7 is VALHALLA, THE PANSY ASS HALL OF THE PANSY ASS FAKE GODS AND THEIR PANSY ASS WAIT FOR RAGNAROK

Feast, make merry; breed, with the hairy;
Fight, with honor, loyalty, and trust;
Drink mead, make friends, conflict evermore.
The beer floweth forth, the drinks aplenty;
Who said that death had to scary?
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Steel Strike on Fri Nov 02, 2012 10:27 pm

Theme of the week is Valhalla


When my times at an end
And there's no energy to spend
I can't wait for the day
I go to Valhalla

Where the feast never ends
And battles always begin
Its all in good fun
Here in Valhalla

Where ones Valor measures worth
Where comraderie lives by the hearth
Where lifes end meets the Earth
We will go to Valhalla
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Tisis Antony on Fri Nov 02, 2012 11:37 pm

Though blackened skies bejeweled in night, be over me;
I had not taken the time to sleep-
For this night had to be my last night, and if I could, I'd linger longer.

And when the ravens pass by, and I can no longer see;
For my eyes, they had begun to bleed-
I would begin to let my last sigh, and linger if I could, a bit longer.

The red stained fields, barren, begin to weep;
The blood of men and vermin starts to reek-
And I could see them begin to fly, and take those of us who were stronger.

Men who had died by blade were taken by the Valkyrie;
And though I bled out, they walked pass by me-
My wound was from a cast of cosmic die, and not the blade of a steel monger.

So I took the bone of a broken mule, and held it for them to see;
And they came to me, curious on this field by the sea-
And I raised it high, and let them walk to me, just needed a bit longer.

And then I rose, and took the thing- stabbed the bitch.




The Theme of November 1-7 is VALHALLA, THE PANSY ASS HALL OF THE PANSY ASS FAKE GODS AND THEIR PANSY ASS WAIT FOR RAGNAROK


Last edited by Tisis Antony on Sat Nov 03, 2012 5:07 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Hark on Sat Nov 03, 2012 1:21 am

I just died today.
forget the damn afterlife
I have lots of mead
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Lance on Sat Nov 03, 2012 1:50 am

Valhalla

to life after death of a warrior proved honored in battle,
who's blade has felled many a foe before felled by a blade himself,
To be carried there by a blessed valkerie, most glorious angel,
The greatest tribute our mighty gods to true warriors grant.

to the hall of the honored, where the greatest men speak cheerful,
of their mighty battles and wars, legends told by those who witnessed the blood with their own eyes and arms,
To settle deputes with those all too boastful,
A dream every true warrior dreams, to test a legends' strength who in turn shall test their own.

to Valhalla, I will prove myself, my mind is settled.
I will fight, my foes I will fell, and someday I will fall, and for this I will not fail,
To me Valhalla calls, and I shall heed her call so umbral,
For I am a viking set to be canonized by my ancestors who wait my grim arrival.
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

Post by Sten Softclaw on Sat Nov 03, 2012 9:30 am

You lot know the week's theme. Valhalla, isn't it?

Oh you should have seen it sir,
The chaos and the affray
As our boys knocked 'em ten for six
And they all fled in dismay.

The artillery and infantry held 'em in place
The enemy, they was done for
While 'round the flanks the cavalry rode
To stab 'em all the more

The stay-at-homes all trooped the colour
An 'oliday was declared
The king praised our dear soldiers
And his proud, medalled chest was bared.

But I suppose I'd better leave you sir
To sleep for a time, in bed
Seein' as you're now lying stiff, sir
With your brains leakin' out of your head.

All peace and quiet, and rest for you now
No trouble nor strife no longer
No worries, nor pain, nor anything else
Unless you're sent to Valhalla.
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Re: THE SICK FIRES POETRY COMPETITION: WHOO THE PANTIES OFF YOUR FAVORITE SKEEZY BROAD

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