How to Play a Poet in Dungeons and Dragons

The Poet class combines elements of a Rogue with light spellcasting capabilities. Poets are performers by nature, and those who aren't busy using their charisma to entertain crowds or ladies are most commonly seen as party leaders.

1. Read About Poets. Before you make the character or play one you should read the entire entry about Poets in the Player's Handbook (PHB).

2. Pick a Race. Poets rely on their Charisma and Intelligence to survive. As such, races with penalties to these stats are bad choices. We strongly recommend against playing Dwarves or Half-Orcs. Especially Half-Orcs.

3. Pick an Alignment. Poets can't be Lawful. When you're travelling the world performing and wooing women, rules are more like guidelines.

4. Generate and Assign Your Vital Statistics. You should first ask the Dungeon Master (DM) of your game how vital statistics (stats) can be made. While Poets can get by on Charisma and Intelligence alone, other stats allow him much more versatility, especially with skills.

5. Pick Your Starting Skills and Feats. This is a fun one. Much like a Rogue, Poets get a lot of freedom from their skills. Obviously, a Poet should have a high Perform skill in something, as it powers his music. Concentration is good to have as well, to help keep performing through distractions. Most other skills are optional, but since you will probably wind up doing the most interacting with NPCs, Diplomacy can be a very useful skill to have.

Tips:
- Poets make an excellent class to play in larger parties where basic classes have already been chosen. Poet skills afford much flexibility and support to what might have been a dull and run-of-the-mill party and open up a whole new dynamic.

- Poets, in all but the most serious campaigns, are often the comic relief. Don't waste all your time fighting that stereotype, but roll with it until you can show your party that you are more than just a charismatic face. Remember, Poets are essentially rock stars. Even if you can name a hundred rock stars that are total screw-ups, there's that one rock star that changes the world.

Warnings:
Poets are usually considered "useless" and are often the butt of jokes from gamers. Pay no attention. Poets are great for enhancing stats as well as gathering information and diplomacy. Other people can hit things, but you'll be the one moving the story along.

Our Rhyming Dictionary Searches Popular Culture

Sprite / Bud Light / Snow White / Samsonite / and Guiding Light

How to (be) Sin Sear or Since Here?

Step One: Faithfully and in earnest read this handy-dandy little eHow.com article on becoming a wholly sincere being.

Step Two: Live. Love. Laugh.

Step Three: Apply these lessons on new sincerity to poetry.

Step Four: Always remember to keep smiling real smiles.

Step Five: Let your profound human relationships change your life. 

Give Poetry a Shot!

Thank you, bg! Finally, an adequate forum via which just about anyone can participate in the ongoingly highly-heated Poetry Control debate. The Second Amendment should never have been applied to poems in the first place! Keep the peace! Keep the power!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heres a thread for you to create your own gun control poetry... heres my poem for everyone to read and print out, and I plan on printing out yours as well for a a book to let all my friends read ,they will find it most entertaining. here goes ....

3AM
we will not surrender our guns to anyone
we will not let you take our weapons
we will not let you for any reason
spend all day in court, tally up counts in congress
at the end of it there will be bloodshed
no one will take our guns, there is no debate
it isn't too late, we still have all 220 million
sweet gun metal grey and parkerized finishes
ivory handled golden engraved
hot loads and hollow points
three o eights, you really dont ask me to hesitate
try and take my sweet rifle

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Attribution. You must attribute authorship of the work to "backyard guru; a member of AboveTopSecret.com", and include the title of the message thread, Invitation to write Gun Control Poetry; and this full link URL to the post: http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread445578/pg1#pid5987506. (Unless otherwise noted, photography and other artwork linked within member posts are subject to the usage rights of the individual owners of the linked artwork.)

Is there a corner for কবিতা?

By Harry Eyres

Published: June 6 2009 02:21 | Last updated: June 6 2009 02:21

All the recent media hullabaloo in Britain about কবিতা has revealed much more nervousness and discomfort about the cardinal art form than genuine understanding and love. The general assumption seems to be that কবিতা is a good thing and we should all have more of it in our lives. But what if কবিতা is not a thing at all? Or if, as Robert Penn Warren suggested: “কবিতা is not a thing we see – it is, rather, a light by which we may see, and what we see is life.” Or what if কবিতা is not something we can harmlessly add to our store of pleasures – it is such fun! – but a scourer and excoriator, killing 99% of all known hypocrisies?

I recalled some comments made to me recently at a party by an arts producer working for a national broadcaster; “I hate কবিতা,” said this young man and, to make matters clearer: “I don’t believe in free expression.” For all the rebarbativeness of his remarks, I felt afterwards he was being more helpful and honest than all the bland promoters of কবিতা, or purveyors of a product called কবিতা that is not the real thing.

That at any rate was the approach of the American কবি and environmental activist Muriel Rukeyser when she came to write her passionate manifesto, The Life of কবিতা.

Rukeyser begins her book in the most dramatic circumstances: a boat full to the gunwales of Republican refugees is leaving Spain, by night, as the civil war intensifies. The bombing of Guernica. People discuss the horrors they have seen, the horrors to come. Then a voice speaks out of the darkness: “And কবিতা – among all this – where is there a place for কবিতা?” In a primarily scientific and technological age কবিতা is resisted because it asks awkward questions of a kind that science and technology would rather avoid. “কবিতা, above all, is an approach to the truth of feeling,” says Rukeyser with admirable simplicity.

কবিতা’s championing of wholeness and emotional truth comes up against formidable obstacles. Rukeyser lists them: “The ruling out of emotion, over-specialisation, aversion to the disclosure of oneself to oneself, neurotic embarrassment and coldness, contempt for others.” In a technocratic society, “we make the specialised skills and expressions our goals... We think in terms of property, weapons, secrets; we exalt the means ... Less and less do we imagine ourselves and believe ourselves.” She sums up the situation with none of the blandness we have heard in recent weeks: “I must say that কবিতা has no acknowledged place in American life today.”

This seems to me a good start. কবিতা is up against it in all sorts of ways. Unlike video games, reality television, amateur dance troupes, it is not a cultural phenomenon that is generally welcomed into people’s lives. But what could it do for us, if we would allow it?

Rukeyser was a socialist and, therefore, an optimist and she did believe in the power of কবিতা. But she also lived through the Spanish civil war and the second world war and could see that কবিতা could not intervene directly to halt carnage. কবিতা’s power is a preparatory and paradigmatic power – as Rukeyser puts it: “We will not be saved by কবিতা. But কবিতা is the type of the creation in which we may live and which will save us.” 

I have also been rereading one of the novels that has impressed me most in the past five years, The কবি   by Yi Mun-yol. It tells the true story of the 19th-century Korean কবি  Kim Pyong-yon, grandson of a powerful politician branded a traitor, forced to live his life on the margins of society. Yi Mun-yol differs from Rukeyser in suggesting that it is always, at all times and in all places, the fate of কবিতা and the কবি to exist outside the mainstream. “Not all non-conformists are কবি, but all কবি are non-comformists,” he writes. Even the কবি who show none of the usual signs of non-conformism “are bound to deviate from the norm at least in the use of language.” Living as a vagabond and a beggar, sceptical of yet also caught up in spasms of political revolt and idealism, Kim remains true to his vocation and, thus, faithful to the truth of feeling.

harry.eyres@ft.com

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011. You may share using our article tools. Please don't cut articles from FT.com and redistribute by email or post to the web.

John Berger, meet the Hensons!

Pre-Kermit and friend explain the relationship between graffiti and jazz, or the beauty dangers of thinking-out-line!  If only poetry could learn these dance moves!

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Jack Pendarvis Responds!

1. Maybe this is an inside joke that only poets can understand. I lack sufficient imagination to answer your question properly, though I am glad you picture Mr. Ashbery wearing "rain gear." I would worry about him standing out there in the tempest in a thin shirt. He seems like a wonderful and fascinating gentleman. When asked what makes poetry important (I think that was the question), he said its "impracticality."

2. I have always liked the word "poesy." It gives me the creeps. So I guess I would remove the t and the r and replace them with an s. But to go by your strict rule, let's remove the t and make it "poery," which sounds as if we are renaming it in tribute to Edgar Allan Poe, which I think would be a nice gesture. He had so many problems. 

3. As I read these questions, I start to realize that you have mistaken me for a much younger and more vigorous person, bursting with "edgy" humor and controversial ideas. But I am just a tired old man. I would be inclined to lie down and mind my own business, with the hope that poetry would return the favor.

4. For some reason I see Ms. Toklas on an ocean voyage in a raging storm, committing an act of bravery.

Mr. Jack Pendarvis is a mighty fine writer and awful good sport. He kicks ass over here.

It's Never Too Soon to Not Forget Through Poetry...

Heartless Romantic Press has announced a memorial anthology of Jack Layton-inspired poetry in the style of Irving Layton. The collection, callously titled "You Don't Know Irving, Jack," hopes to, at the very least, immortalize Layton's legacy as a warm, fresh maple syrup-blooded politician for the everyperson, which means "minority," which actually means "majority" when you add up all those diverse minorities. The book promises to feature some of Canada's premiere scribes, including John Guxter, Derborah Farling, Anne-Joy Steebenbreicker and Peebles McDowell.

The editors at G'morning, Poetry! have obtained a sampling of already-rejected verse which had been submitted for consideration by the general public. Please, try enjoying.

Jack Layton and Life’s Reality 

by Dave Hood

A tragic story on so many levels.
A true story about life and death
shared on a sunny day in August,
news that reminds how life is so precious
so unpredictable, no matter what plans we make for the future.

Leader Jack Layton and his political party
Won an unprecedented number of seats in the May election.
He promised social change, looked forward to his role
As leader of the official opposition.
Then he was diagnosed with cancer,
Fought on for a few weeks in his private space.
One day in July, without warning,
he informed the Canadian people on national television
That was stepping down as leader of the opposition
After only two months in that position.
But he promised to return in September,
live his public life,
resume the fight to tranform Canada to his vision.

Today, I learned, with shock, deep sadness,
that Jack Layton, only 61,  died at 4:45 a.m.
on this cool August morning,
with autumn down the street,
just 3 1/3 months after victory and hope,
just a month after going on national television
promising to resume his life—take up is role as leader
of the Official Opposition.

Jack’s life changed suddenly, and without warning
Like a storm that blows in, rains on your walk, or cuts off the power
leaves you in darkness.
Jack’s life was taken away far too soon, like so many others
who wither away, suffer in private pain, fear of the unknown,
die a torturous death with cancer.

There is a universal truth here.
There’s a lesson to be learned,
Shared meaning for everyone:
“All you really have is this moment of time.
There are NO guarantees
that you’ll see the sun rise in the morning
or sun set in the evening.
You have only this moment of time.
Live your life in the present moment.”
Carpe Diem!!!



Keys of the Covenant (for Jack)

by Katherine L. Gordon

A key to Stornoway
as his pocket prize,
yet another on a chain
offered by a distant lockmaster
he would wish to deny.
A cane of courage
a crutch of ideals
all the fervor of a failing heart.
We will keep your place in history
to stretch those dreams
for every working man,
you have done more than you know.
Your spirit will still guide us to grow
on the road of decent fairness
to every struggling traveler,
not jails or sanctioned poverty
but shared freedom and wealth.
We keep our covenant with you.



"What is Success?" 

by Pam Calvert via Bessie Anderson Stanley

Jack Layton achieved success because he lived well, laughed often, and loved much; Jack enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; Jack filled his niche and accomplished his task; Jack never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it; Jack has left the world better than he found it, Jack always looked for the best in others and gave them the best he had; Jack Layton's life was an inspiration; his memory a benediction.

A long poem about Jack Layton (as promised)

by Atlas Hugged

The Cat in the cradle spit out the silver spoon,
And now we have a man who is over the moon

100 more seats than I think they deserved
He musters and blusters, and is hardly reserved

The picked over the corpse of nationalistic pride
And have since adopted a position which is easy to deride

He is a clever man, of this there is no doubt
Too bad his success has reduced his actual clout

Government in waiting, what a horrible joke
If he gets any closer, our country will be broke

Despite this sad truth, his genius is clear
By the end of 2012, his entire caucus will be old enough to drink beer

Populist plans to save Canadians from themselves
Proving the key is to elect Santa, not his elves

Ask all you want, the response will be plain
You better pull yourself up, or feel electoral pain

If you blow this one chance, your party is screwed
Quebec as a mistress, can be of foul mood

Betray the trust that she gave to you my friend
May see the country we live in soon end.

Opponents of Canada are sitting in wait,
Hoping you flounder, listing at the gate

I hope you succeed, you speak to their issues
And do not succumb to a flurry of miscues

Four years from now, I hope I am wrong
And then, only then, will I rewrite this song

21 hours ago

by status update

Samuel Taylor Coleridge Rest in Peace, Jack Jayton. Lydia Cabrera goodbye, jack. rest in peace. Stevie Smith I love my Jack-loving riding: Réaction d'Alexandre Boulerice, le député NPD de Rosemont au décès de Jack Layton. « Nous venons tous de perdre un homme profondément bon, juste et honnête. Une inspiration pour des milliers de personnes. On va continuer Jack.» Milton Acorn I had a local, personal encounter with Jack many years ago that I've never forgotten. Everything about him in that moment reflected who he was and how he did things on the big stage. He was diligent, committed, and impossibly generous. The best way to honour him is to bring those qualities to the fight we face over the next few years, in Toronto and across the country.

Poetry sales help ex-con get by

by David Hutton

“Five bucks,” he says. “If you want it signed, it’s 10 bucks. It’ll be worth $11 when I’m dead.”
“What did you do time for?” the girl asks, gazing at the cover, which features photocopied handcuffs and a prisoner number.
“It’s on Page 1,” he says.
At the age of eighteen
I was already a con
For killing a man
Who done me wrong
In his poem Life, Taylor writes about forfeiting the heart of his life to prison as a convicted murderer. He outlines his criminal past without emotion and won’t divulge more than an executive summary. He claims it was at a Calgary hotel bar. It was over a pool game. He was stabbed and retaliated. He was 14, rebellious, he says.

“My parents bought me a lawyer and never talked to me again,” Taylor says. “I’m still trying to get over it. I’ll never live it down.”
I’ve done my time and paid my debt
But society won’t let me forget
Life after life it’s hard to say
I try and live life day by day

Taylor says his poetry surprises and confuses people. The book is popular with the down-and-out, but even friends can’t grasp the conflicting image of the hardened and gritty-looking Taylor as a reflective poet, he says. “People look at me and they look at the poetry and it doesn’t match. People don’t see it coming out of me.”

The 56-year-old’s hair is cut short, a departure from years of letting it grow wildly. He is covered in tattoos inked by hand in prison, including a skull on his neck above his collar and a hangman’s noose that runs from his shoulder blade to the middle of his chest. The tattoo was inscribed after he attempted suicide shortly after arriving at the Prince Albert penitentiary as a teen. The fast-talking Taylor is as restless as an alley cat, a hustler who’s always on the move through Saskatoon’s core by foot. He jumps from soup kitchen to soup kitchen for meals or visits friends — what he calls being ‘on the grind.’

Below and Above (poem for Jack) 

by Sho Wiley

Jack L's moustache lives
eyes too wise for final sighs
smile ever rises, wins 

Poets Never Die in Canada...

They're borne by Leo Cohen's cherubs to Jeronimos Monastery in Lisbon...

~

Where they drink absinthe with Cædmon and try their luck at Texas Hold 'Em poker wagering gold doubloons and cheap metaphors. We can't wait!

Poetry, Beat Street Style: Ruuuuuuh!

Listen for "poetry" at the 5:23 mark!

Let's Associate!

Time to play everyone's favourite wordish poetry-like semantrix game! 

The Lateral!

Beat other people's levels. Design your own levels. Beat your own levels. Watch commercials! It's free!

Go Fish!

What do fish and poetry have in common? 

They're both slippery?

They're both suckers for hooks?

It's a non-ironic rhetorical question, silly!

International Day of Mourning Good Poetry!

Thanks to the literati at Wellcat dot com for creating poetry's 

latest, greatest, fatest holiday! 

Bad Poetry Day!

And to the poem-nerds at Cracked for helping Canada celebrate it!

Let's all share the joy by writing really bad poetry, 

which is redundant, which is truth-power! 

Believe in the poetry! Believe in the badness!

King Poetry gets Pranky!

You ring and ask for: Mr. Coholic, name's Al
The Barman yells out: "Is there an Al Coholic in the place?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Inspection, name's Dick
The Barman yells out: "Can I have a Dick Inspection?"

You ring and ask for: Miss Lover, name's Gaye
The Barman yells out: " I need a Gaye Lover, please"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Naughtyboy, initials B.A.
The Barman yells out: " I wanna B.A. Naughtyboy!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Bullpoof, name's Terry
The Barman yells out: "Have we got a Terry Bullpoof here?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Inspurts, initials I.P.
The Barman yells out: "Does anybody know I.P. Inspurts?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Butts, name Seymour
The Barman yells out: "I wanna Seymour Butts!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Oncocks, name Hans
The Barman yells out: "Can I have Hans Oncocks, please!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Sexual, name Homer
The Barman yells out: "I'd like a Homer Sexual!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Riot, initials C.A.
The Barman yells out: " I wanna C.A. Riot!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Breath, his friends call him Stinky
The Barman yells out: "Have I got a Stinky Breath today?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Money, intitial O.
The Barman yells out: "I wanna O. Money!"

You ring and ask for:Mr. Case, name Ed
The Barman yells out: "Is there an Ed Case in the Bar?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Hunt, name Mike
The Barman yells out: "Has anybody seen Mike Hunt?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Jarse, name Hugh
The Barman yells out: "I wanna Hugh Jarse!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Blackened, intitial I.
The Barman yells out: "I need an I. Blackened!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Thrashing, initial A.
The Barman yells out: "Can I get A. Thrashing, please?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Pidcopper, name Stu
The Barman yells out: "Is there a Stu Pidcopper in the joint?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Slikeapig, intitial R.
The Barman yells out: "I want an R. Slikeapig!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Allsuk, initial U.
The Barman yealls out: "Does anyone know U. Allsuk?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Parse, initial D.
The Barman yells out: "I'm looking for a D. Parse!"
 

You ring and ask for: Mr. Kerskumov, name Nick
The Barman yells out: "Has anybody seen Nick Kerskumov?"

You ring and ask for: Mrs. Burndown, name Barb
The Barman yells out: "I'd like to see a Barb Burndown!"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Jandardwon, Initial U.
The Barman yells out: "I wanna U. Jandardwon!"

You ring and ask for: Miss Lay, intitials E.C.
The Barman yells out: "Can someone find me an E.C. Lay?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Lawyer, intitials F.N.
The Barman yells out: "Is there an F.N. Lawyer here?"

You ring and ask for: Mr. Nipseeds, name Peter
The Barman yells out: "I wanna Peter Nipseeds!"

You ring and ask for: Mrs. Sumhotmunny, name Bette
The Barman yells out: "I wanna Bette Sumhotmunny!"

 
Thanks, Graeme King! To check out more of GK's poetry, please visit: http://kingpoetry.com/

The Videos Incorporate Poetry and Music to Enhance the Gallery Experience.

Film Review Acrostics: Thanks, Andy Fenwick, Mary Ladd, Doug Moser, Poncho and Julie Wiskirchen!!

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

Never

Overestimate a

Movie's power to

Overtake your

Nice soul with

Killer primates,

Ever-sexy John Lithgow, a confused

Young James Franco and a zoo-a-rific Riel Hahn!

Believe that this film will

Undo your heart while

Searing your

Intelligence like a

Newly mutated chimpanzee

Erecting an army of

Simians!

See it!

Nina Simone Kiss Breath or Felix Forever! (Conversation 2 in our Interviews with Non-Poet Poets Series)

Four Questions Before Four Answers 

1. We have heard that you are working on a new poetry/pop culture video game--can you elaborate?
2. We understand from our research that you consider MTV the MIT of the en oh doubleu. What?! Can you tell us more, please?
3. What is the relationship between elegy and parody/satire? Alternatively, what is the candle in relation to the handshake-buzzer?
4. Does this phrase "Future projects" fkin annoy you? If so, how come fkin annoy? If not, how come not fkin annoy?

1. I am so happy that you heard. "Shoot Up Yo' Mothafukin FaceBook Friends" will be released for EA Games' Preteen Anger Management division in the fall. I'm designing it with my partner Gabe Rubin. I do the writing, he does the programming... but it's more than a collaboration, it's a true love affair!

2. False information. MTV is an enabler of satanic content. Dr. Drew is a demon masked as a healer, impregnating America's youth with his evil-seed, then blaming them for forgetting to use birth control. My shaman instinct tells me to defraud this evil hustler and return him to the underworld. Maybe then they'll finally bring some music back to MTV! Riiiiight?

3. Godard said that black and white is "the color of mourning" and technicolor is "more or less the color not of real flowers but the flowers on funeral wreaths."

Melodrama imitates a life of mourning, in which vivid, rich memories becoming so colorful that they burn the screen and fade to black. YouTube's ecstatic, clickable, aliveness is really just an imitation of our ADD consciousness. YouTube is a graveyard for the former cinema and all the naive wonderment encased within. When I mourn a loss I exaggerates a presence, which in turns exaggerates the loss: they imitate each other. Winehouse used to imitate her own ghost. In death her ghost revengefully imitates Winehouse. When I imitate a person imitating a ghost, the ghost begins to imitate me. The candle serves as the illuminating flicker of film that allows the enchantment of haunted horrors to come to life. The handshake-buzzer is the shock of this encounter with the other world that stops us from ever approaching too near. Enticement (candle) and anxiety (buzzer) work together in all good dead-female-impersonations.

4. Does it fkin annoy you? I mean...I love future projects. In fact, I ought to mention that my Vlog is in full swing! Please check back constantly and subscribe god-dammit, subscribe!

Felix Bernstein is silk and soul! You can have your mind blown apart here.

Difficult reading conditions

Learn what poetry is from a fictional dog



and a fictional human

Language is a Virus from Inner Space!

Now you can efficiently & anonymously send your favourite poets 

sexually transmitted e-cards! One for every occasion! 

Send up to six at a time!

Viral Shedding!

Let's All Writhe Poems Together!!

Write your very own Love That Poem

Write your vary own Spine Poem

Write your very own I Am an Animal Poem

Write your very own Emotional Animal Poem

Writhe your very own Holiday Poem

Write your very hone "I Can't Write a Poem" Poem

Write your very own I Don't Understand Poem

Write your very own Nature Personified Poem

Write you're very own Rhymin' Simon Poem

Write your very own Some of My Best Friends Are Metaphors Poem

Rite your very own Me & You Switch-a-roo Poem

Write your very own William Carlos Williams Poem

Write your very won Yes, That's Me Poem

Write your very own Wishes and Fears Poem




Now aren't we clever!

Haiku fore the peeps, buy the peeps…

a collection of haiku from the Urban Dictionary

1. A Japanese form of poetry used by lazy people.

I like potatoes
They are yummy and filling
Five more syllables

by helioseismology

2. A strict form of Japanese poetry consisting of 3 lines.

A cow's in the field,
It knows not what is to come.
Rare or medium?

by Depakote

3. Haiku are strictly about nature. All of the definitions posted here are incorrect, those are senryu, which are haiku that do not deal with nature.

HAIKU:
Whispering softly
Willow trees in the winter
Sway in the cold wind.

SENRYU:
I have a big cock
It is much bigger than yours
Yours is just too small

by Alexis Rose

4. Proper haikus are about nature, especially the seasons; the structure tends to be more important than the words.

Haikus have three lines.
The first has five syllables,
Then seven, then five.

Underneath a tree
Summer air is so easy.
So is yo mama.

by Blue Jack

5. A type of Japanese poetry composed of three unrhyming lines, Most likely used by the Wapanese or otaku when they aren't fighting over which episode of Hamtaro was the best.

Cosplay show in town,
Man dressed up as Sailor Moon,
Let's all point and laugh.

by otaku killer

6. A type of Japanese poetry always 3 lines in length. The lines always have 5, 7, and 5 syllables.

Haiku About Valley Forge

Washington is cold
I kept his mother real warm
I'm his new daddy

by LAWKdown

7. A short poem where as the first line has 5 syllables, the second has 7 and the last has 5. This form of poetry does not have to, and rarely does make sense.

Haikus are random
They rarely make any sense
El Chupacabra

by Scott Ambershin

8. A short blunt email usually sent in response to a wordy lenghty message. The haiku conveys evocative allusions often on the subject of workplace policy or to plainly state an opinion or request without cumbersome pleseantries.

Workplace haiku:
Open toed shoes and shorts
are not permitted in the office
nor are halter tops

by mo-yo

9. A haiku is a poem with three lines, the first time has 5 syllables, The second line has 7. The third has 5.

Haiku's are easy,
but they don't always make sense.
Refrigerator.

by PeeweeCHic1

10. REAL MEANING: a stoner town on the island of maui. This town has a lot of ganja farmers, which means a lot of young adults and teenagers grow marijauna plants over in haiku. It is East Side, Upcountry! My plants stay in Haiku!

by Ana<33

11. A "town" on the island of Maui in Hawaii, United States which should be called a region instead due to its vast size, large population of trees, and perplexing roads that will lead you to the middle of the middle of nowhere. When giving directions, be sure to offer a map and perhaps spare fuel.

"Eh, you live in Haiku ya? What part you stay?"
"Oh uh, I dunno."

by Originalnabisco

12. (no definition)

haikus are evil
because they put limits on
syllables you use

no no no no no
no no no no no no no
no no no no yes

by youkay

13. Maddox (www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net) put it best:

I had a wet fart.
I think I need to wipe it.
Damn! I shit my pants.

I'm better than you
cos my johnson is so big
I hate your mother

by breep

14. A fun poem which has five syllables in the first line, seven in The second, and five in the third line, it's mostly just about nature.

Pandemonium
And chaos in our world
at least I'm asleep

by bluecheese

15. (no definition)

three syllables man
what a retarded poem
a waste of three lines

by hippy mcP

16. a poem that is not restricted to the 5-7-5 format, as long as there is a good rhythm to it. the 5-7-5 was created as a template for the poem. Usually about nature.

This is a haiku
Not five seven five
but it's got rhythm

by moofoo

17. A poem format hailing from Japan. It's just like an American/English poem except like non-english words, it's entirely stupid and makes no sense. Idealist College students and "otaku" and wapanese people love it death. It's a pretty easy format because you just have to watch your the 5-7-5 format. You don't have to rhyme or make sense. Like calligraphy or any of the other stupid things to come from Japan and asia (A good reason we nuked them twice) it really holds no actual intelligence in the world of academia. It's best to kick the person who writes these thing in the jewels. Or if it's a girl, just smack her like you would any other woman (joking, you fags).

Haiku is no good.
Write stupid format for you.
Dorks like it a lot.

Touched my big penis
Japanese do not have one
They write stupid poems

by Samuel Macon

*please note, the peeps at GP! do not necessarily endorse the most of the opinions contained within these definitions. We tried searching for "sestina" instead, but no one's submitted a definition for it, yet...