# Writing > Personal Poetry >  Lets play losers!

## PrinceMyshkin

*
Man, Im so down
that if I won the lottery
and my car matamorphed into
a Porsche Boxster 
and three available women
appeared at my door
and one was smart,
one was funny,
one was prettier than Catherine Deneuve,
and all three wanted to jump my bones
I might just about be half-way back to level...

Beat that if you can
you loser wannabes!
*

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## TheFifthElement

> *
> Man, Im so down
> that if I won the lottery
> and my car matamorphed into
> a Porsche Boxster 
> and three available women
> appeared at my door
> and one was smart,
> one was funny,
> ...



*
Like the other guy said
and then some.*

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## SleepyWitch

hahahahah  :Smile:  


> Beat that if you can you loser wannabes!


have you become a gangster-rapper?

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## TheFifthElement

> hahahahah  
> have you become a gangster-rapper?


Shouldn't that be _gangsta_?

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## SleepyWitch

> Shouldn't that be _gangsta_?


yo, biatch, I knows how ta spell right.I aint gonna take sh*t from you  :FRlol:  *JOKING!!!!!* yep, that should be gangsta.
(I've got no idea how gangsta rappers talk, except every other word is f*ck or b*tch or s*ck my d*ck

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## TheFifthElement

> yo, biatch, I knows how ta spell right.I aint gonna take sh*t from you  *JOKING!!!!!* yep, that should be gangsta.
> (I've got no idea how gangsta rappers talk, except every other word is f*ck or b*tch or s*ck my d*ck


 :FRlol:   :FRlol:   :FRlol:  
Yo! Sleepy *gangsta*.

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## SleepyWitch

> Yo! Sleepy *gangsta*.


you messin' wid me, biatch? s*ck my...... *goes to check* "oh?" forget about it  :Smile:   :Biggrin:  *joking*

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## PrinceMyshkin

> *
> Like the other guy said
> and then some.*


Wait a cotton-picking second! You can't go piggy-backing on my boo-hoo-hoo without adding some of your own!

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## SleepyWitch

> Man, Im so down
> that if I won the lottery
> and my car matamorphed into
> a Porsche Boxster
> and three available women
> appeared at my door
> and one was smart,
> one was funny,
> one was prettier than Catherine Deneuve,
> ...





> Wait a cotton-picking second! You can't go piggy-backing on my boo-hoo-hoo without adding some of your own!


ok, I'll give it a try then. you asked for it  :Smile: 



*Man, I'm so down,
not even sad songs 
can cheer me up.
I don't know what a 
Boxster is, or a car,
and I never got why people 
drive them, anyway.
And, besides, what do people mean
when they say "I love listening to music?"

If three available women appeared at my door,
they'd be Russian wh*res and I wouldn't
know which one to pick.
So I'd sit them down at the table
for future reference and tea.
If three men appeared at my door,
they'd all be unavaible.
One would be smart,
One would be so pretty it hurts,
one wouldn't wear socks in December.
And the other two would be gay.

My happiest memory of my first love
is still when he said -in the hospital garden-
"I'll never trust you again".
Matter-of-factly, just like
"I need you around".
But the scene was so tranquil and
the light slanted through the clouds
like in a painting of the ascension,
and we sat on a bench suffused with pastels,
so how could I help it?

Double-dumb*ss on me,
who's the loser now?*

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## PrinceMyshkin

> ok, I'll give it a try then. you asked for it 
> 
> 
> 
> *Man, I'm so down,
> not even sad songs 
> can cheer me up.
> I don't know what a 
> Boxster is, or a car,
> ...


Loser that I am, I have to say,
my so-called poem
doesn't even come close to yours!
But, lookee here, this losing
is a complicate thing!

By writing a better poem than mine
you've made yourself a winner,
I'm sorry to say!

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## SleepyWitch

> Loser that I am, I have to say,
> my so-called poem
> doesn't even come close to yours!
> But, lookee here, this losing
> is a complicate thing!
> 
> By writing a better poem than mine
> you've made yourself a winner,
> I'm sorry to say!


tell me more!  :Biggrin:   :Blush: 
hahah, are you sure it's better? 
i could never have written any sad poem without taking up your Porsche and available women  :Smile:  ah... intertextuality, I love it! (even though my brain cell reads "intersexuality...er what?" whenever it sees the word).

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## Granny5

Jer, I think you are the winner but I thought I'd give it a go. 
Not much of a poem but I'm so down I just don't care.

Man, Im so down
That when Jon Bon Jovi
Called me tonight and
Asked if Id have his
Baby, I had to turn him down
Im just not in the mood.
And Id have to shave my legs
When Ed McMann came
By with a check, I told
Him I wasnt receiving
Visitors.
I just didnt want to bother 
Getting dressed.
When awarded the Nobel
I told them to give it Gore
My hair is a mess and its
Not worth to trip to the salon
The Pulizer committee called
But I let voice mail get it.
Havent wanted to listen
To the message yet.

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## SleepyWitch

not bad, granny  :Smile:

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## PrinceMyshkin

> tell me more!  
> hahah, are you sure it's better? 
> i could never have written any sad poem without taking up your Porsche and available women  ah... intertextuality, I love it! (even though my brain cell reads "intersexuality...er what?" whenever it sees the word).


Those who read "intersexuality" when they encounter "intertextuality"
(a dirty word if I ever heard one!) are just as likely,
I think, to read "full frontal nudity"
when the text plainly says "A dish of stewed prunes"
or fantasize an orgy
when encountering a smorgasbord!

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## PrinceMyshkin

> Jer, I think you are the winner but I thought I'd give it a go. 
> Not much of a poem but I'm so down I just don't care.
> 
> Man, Im so down
> That when Jon Bon Jovi
> Called me tonight and
> Asked if Id have his
> Baby, I had to turn him down
> Im just not in the mood.
> ...



GRANNY!!!! You are THE winner! - er, I mean loser!

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## CdnReader

*I'm so low that
even if you folded me into eighths
and used a pair of sharp-tipped scissors
to snip away all the extra bits,
then opened me up to reveal the snowflake I really am,
and tossed me up high, only so I could drift to earth again,
twirled and crimped and jaded by the coldest winter gale.....
Even then, you would find that I am so low
that I could be slipped under the bedroom door,
and no one would even notice.
*

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## TheFifthElement

> Wait a cotton-picking second! You can't go piggy-backing on my boo-hoo-hoo without adding some of your own!


I'm so low I couldn't even write a poem about it.

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## Granny5

oh no, Prince, you are the biggest loser by far!

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## Sweets America

> *I'm so low that
> even if you folded me into eighths
> and used a pair of sharp-tipped scissors
> to snip away all the extra bits,
> then opened me up to reveal the snowflake I really am,
> and tossed me up high, only so I could drift to earth again,
> twirled and crimped and jaded by the coldest winter gale.....
> Even then, you would find that I am so low
> that I could be slipped under the bedroom door,
> ...


I particularly like the last two lines of this. Nice to see you around, Donna! :Smile:  

And about Jerry's poem, I'm a loser sometimes, too.  :Frown: 
I loved this discussion Jer and I had the other day:
Me: 'I saw you wrote a poem about being a loser. Welsome to the club, let's be losers together then!'
Him: 'No! _Together_, we would never be losers!'  :Wink:

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## blp

I'm sorry for spoiling the party by sulking by the canapés
I didn't mean to sulk it seems
I walked into a grey gloom a few years back
and haven't found the exit
I thought your party might be it
might snap me out of it
I didn't mean to spoil it
I thought it might unspoil me
Oh well
It _was_ a winning crowd with winning ways
but depression is infectious
and it seems that I'm its typhoid Mary
I realise you must all hate me now
all I can say
is I've lost so much more than you
oh wait, here's your friend from Bosnia
who was orphaned, starved and lost a brother
everybody says how brave she is
and wonders at her happy, calm demeanour
I know
I should be better than I am
depressive and depressed about it
sour, sallow, diffident and unsanguine
but when do I get saved 
the way she was?

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## blp

Good stuff, by the way, CdnReader.

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## Granny5

blp and cdn, you both shame me with your beautiful poetry. I love the pictures both poems paint.

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## PrinceMyshkin

> I'm so low I couldn't even write a poem about it.


Here's how low you must be to have crapped out on writing a REAL loser poem: if you came to the door of the Loser's Club meeting all the other losers would IMMEDIATELY walk out!

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## PrinceMyshkin

> I particularly like the last two lines of this. Nice to see you around, Donna! 
> 
> And about Jerry's poem, I'm a loser sometimes, too. 
> I loved this discussion Jer and I had the other day:
> Me: 'I saw you wrote a poem about being a loser. Welcome to the club, let's be losers together then!'
> Him: 'No! _Together_, we would never be losers!'


A "sometime" loser must be a winner at other times, no? This thread is for 100% bona fide 24/7 losers, so

Beat it!

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## PrinceMyshkin

> *I'm so low that
> even if you folded me into eighths
> and used a pair of sharp-tipped scissors
> to snip away all the extra bits,
> then opened me up to reveal the snowflake I really am,
> and tossed me up high, only so I could drift to earth again,
> twirled and crimped and jaded by the coldest winter gale.....
> Even then, you would find that I am so low
> that I could be slipped under the bedroom door,
> ...


Awesome! Freaking awesome!

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## PrinceMyshkin

> I'm sorry for spoiling the party by sulking by the canap&#233;s
> I didn't mean to sulk it seems
> I walked into a grey gloom a few years back
> and haven't found the exit
> I thought your party might be it
> might snap me out of it
> I didn't mean to spoil it
> I thought it might unspoil me
> Oh well
> ...


Right on! Who are those Bosnia orphans, AIDS afflicted lepers et al trying to kid. You have got it BAD!

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## symphony

Not to spoil the party but.... ~_~

Meh! I’m so darned high, 
that even if my mom screams at her highest,
and my sistah hisses the hell outta her hissy sissy voice,
and if my report card is filled with ruddy grades…
if the boy next door’s playin his six string that’s makin ma room go kaboom! –
It wonta madda ye see? it’ll still be ma friggin cloud 9!

 :Biggrin:

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## ampoule

Man, you losers are sure winners.  :Wink:  It's amazing what good poetry comes from being down and out, or even imagining being down and out. This one will be disgusting. Sorry.  :Frown: 


Lay Me Down

When you laid me down on that urine soaked carpet, leaking,
crying over spilt life, asking all the questions with multiple
choice answers that would be wrong, no matter what,
lamenting all of your sin and lost lovers, making my lips bleed,
begging me to say I love you falsely, watching me gasp for
fresh air while you grasped my soft extremities and you asked
why I was shaking, cold, naked, wet and offered no warm blanket, 
only pretend kisses that got me nowhere and a braggart's 
tongue saying I can take you there, to the sea and the mountains,
but first to the place I was born to spread my ashes,
and then you grilled my feverish body with your memories
and I knew I was so down that I was one with the carpet
and the only thing left for me to do was stand up.
amp, just now, November Seventh, TwoThousandSeven

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## firefangled

I was taking in the sound of the gypsies
twittering repetitively outside, near the pond.

With the morning light of Monday, a poem 
wound its way through the curtains,

like a gentle green garden snake with raspberry eyes,
who rubbed its back against my glasses frame

then curled around my brain and went to sleep.
And email came with specs to write and thinking

I could only be one writer, I tried to pry the green
creature, but snapped its lovely head and it was gone.

The email came with lines of deadlines and where my snake
had slept a depression filled with images of dead in rows...

email came and said I was wanted in the morgue: 
_the architecture was flawed and something not responding

had to be autopsied, analyzed, then brought to life._ 
From the snakes gentle crease Mary Shelly woke in gossamer cotton

bunched around her snowy thighs; she turned, her face a skeleton
screaming, _it's alive, it's alive, it's alive, you've got mail!_

The meeting with the workers and drones, droned and the snake's
comfy lair in my head envisioned my office overflowing, Micky Mouse,

my pointed hat with moons and stars on his head, at the keyboard 
trying to stop the email he had created by selecting from Rules Menu:

_send all incoming email to outbox_, Firefangled! Firefangled! my
boss screamed and I began to cry for the innocent snake,

my tears falling on the conference room table in torrents, I screamed back
_EAT ME_, and I began to grow taller and taller, while the water rose

and everyone was pushed from the windows to the grass turning to mud.
I liked it with my head surrounded by clouds until the lightning began...

I don't like to move now, I am so large, when I do there are quakes
and tsunamis. It's hot here in the Sahara; you will be safe from me now,

the wind whispering in _ess_ sounds, my eyes red from sand.
Here the snakes burrow in the underground to hide from sun and wind.

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## SleepyWitch

wow, your poems rock, blp and cdn! (will read yours in a second, firefangled and ampoule)




> Those who read "intersexuality" when they encounter "intertextuality"
> (a dirty word if I ever heard one!) are just as likely,
> I think, to read "full frontal nudity"
> when the text plainly says "A dish of stewed prunes"
> or fantasize an orgy
> when encountering a smorgasbord!


here's some more random nonsense. but it'd better go in the "write a really bad poem" thread I think,

*The only orgy I ever saw
was when a professor, fully-dressed,
grabbed his assistant's thigh
to teach her the polka at the Bavarian Inn.
The crowd applauded: "Hurray!"

Love is best enjoyed alone.
Close your eyes, devour the package
and throw away what's inside.
That's just a serving suggestion, though.
Don't put the cat in the oven.

We dole out love in piecemeal vouchers,
collectible and to be redeemed
in another life.
But seduction bites the blind donkey in the tail
and sticks an ad on the snake:
"Will trade my future for a kiss good-bye."
When you apply, don't ask me for details
coz all you'll ever need to know
you knew back then when you sighed:
"Not you again."
So let's skip the coffee and walk the night.

We're so used to unfulfilment,
would you know what to do 
about my fingertips on your sleeve?
Go home now.
The world's a village full of gossips
and the mayor breeds sheep.
*

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## firefangled

> Not to spoil the party but.... ~_~
> 
> Meh! Im so darned high, 
> that even if my mom screams at her highest,
> and my sistah hisses the hell outta her hissy sissy voice,
> and if my report card is filled with ruddy grades
> if the boy next doors playin his six string thats makin ma room go kaboom! 
> It wonta madda ye see? itll still be ma friggin cloud 9!


You deserve to be amazingly happy Symphony. Don't worry about us losers, you go on without us...really...cough, cough...sniff...sniff...we were happy once, I guess...weren't we...?  :Wink:  

I like the sound of this btw, very cool. 'Specially line three... :Yawnb:

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## firefangled

> Man, you losers are sure winners.  It's amazing what good poetry comes from being down and out, or even imagining being down and out. This one will be disgusting. Sorry. 
> 
> 
> Lay Me Down
> 
> When you laid me down on that urine soaked carpet, leaking,
> crying over spilt life, asking all the questions with multiple
> choice answers that would be wrong, no matter what,
> lamenting all of your sin and lost lovers, making my lips bleed,
> ...


Amp, this is disgustingly good! 

Many of us losers have been there. It sure describes how it feels.

It is amazing what good poems come out of down time. I've always wondered for myself, what gets triggered to do that?

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## firefangled

Bye everyone! See you in a couple days. I left scones and coffee on the table.

For those in a different time zone than EST, I will make it up to you or you could time travel. 

It's not that difficult, you just put your vortexes together and blow. :Wink:

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## PrinceMyshkin

> Not to spoil the party but.... ~_~
> 
> Meh! Im so darned high, 
> that even if my mom screams at her highest,
> and my sistah hisses the hell outta her hissy sissy voice,
> and if my report card is filled with ruddy grades
> if the boy next doors playin his six string thats makin ma room go kaboom! 
> It wonta madda ye see? itll still be ma friggin cloud 9!


Ok, you killed the party DEAD! (But of course you did it with _style!_

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## PrinceMyshkin

> Man, you losers are sure winners.  It's amazing what good poetry comes from being down and out, or even imagining being down and out. This one will be disgusting. Sorry. 
> 
> 
> Lay Me Down
> 
> When you laid me down on that urine soaked carpet, leaking,
> crying over spilt life, asking all the questions with multiple
> choice answers that would be wrong, no matter what,
> lamenting all of your sin and lost lovers, making my lips bleed,
> ...



Your point being?

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## blp

> wow, your poems rock, blp and cdn! (will read yours in a second, firefangled and ampoule)
> 
> 
> 
> here's some more random nonsense. but it'd better go in the "write a really bad poem" thread I think,
> 
> *The only orgy I ever saw
> was when a professor, fully-dressed,
> grabbed his assistant's tigh
> ...


No, it's really great.

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## SleepyWitch

> No, it's really great.


 :Smile:  the more absurd it is, the better you like it?

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## ampoule

> Amp, this is disgustingly good! 
> 
> Many of us losers have been there. It sure describes how it feels.
> 
> It is amazing what good poems come out of down time. I've always wondered for myself, what gets triggered to do that?



I think it's because we are closed off to the outside and the only place we have to go is in.

Prince, not sure what you mean.

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## PrinceMyshkin

> I think it's because we are closed off to the outside and the only place we have to go is in.
> 
> Prince, not sure what you mean.


It was meant to be kindly sarcasm, in that I found the poem such a powerful vivid expression of loser-feeling that I pretended not to have gotten it.

(Sometime I'm underwhelmed by my efforts to be funny.)

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## symphony

> You deserve to be amazingly happy Symphony. Don't worry about us losers, you go on without us...really...cough, cough...sniff...sniff...we were happy once, I guess...weren't we...?  
> 
> I like the sound of this btw, very cool. 'Specially line three...


u mean i'm going to join the club someday?! damnit!  :Biggrin: 



> Ok, you killed the party DEAD! (But of course you did it with _style!_


 :FRlol:

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