Shaolin Poetry

[wiz cool c]

This guy has all the signs of a serial killer. Are there any law enforcement who read this message board. This guy should be looked into. I'm serious.

[bodhitree]

I assume you have your Ph.D.
You dribble if you don't shake when you pee.
Puns and bad poems are a form of drivel;
You're a lowdown Ph.D. punster, and shizzle your nizzle.

I'm equating your poetry with dribble of unknown liquids. Drivel is also apt.

[bodhitree]

takeshi, brookman, foot, and fist
his poetry sucks, and thats bottom of the list
he claims to not be gay,
his ninjahood overcompensation in a major way
his commune plays grabass
with his whisp he acts so crass
takeshi takeshi when will you know
nobody's fooled, give up your show.
We'll still accept you, regardless of orientation
stop the act with no procrastination


Grandmaster Sensei Andy (Judo Grandmaster) says you have three days
to give an explanation of your extravigant ways

He'll stike you down with a judo katana,
Do you really wanna

at your funeral, I'll give a eulogy
then take your jewelry


you wont need it anymore

[The Xia]

The Judo Fist is the monkey of the mind.
Simple to see, but difficult to be.
It frolics in the jungles of the mind.
With the spiritual, it has no bind.
The Judo Fist is the monkey of the mind.
The monkey of the mind grows.
Through the cultivation of the spiritual, I know.
I know and I start to glow.
The monkey of the mind frolics in its own light.
The night has passed in the jungle of the mind.
The Judo Fist shimmers bright with might.
I have become the Judo Fist.
I am the Judo Fist.

[NJM]

I think Takeshi has accepted defeat.

[John Takeshi]

The Judo Fist is the monkey of the mind.
Simple to see, but difficult to be.
It frolics in the jungles of the mind.
With the spiritual, it has no bind.
The Judo Fist is the monkey of the mind.
The monkey of the mind grows.
Through the cultivation of the spiritual, I know.
I know and I start to glow.
The monkey of the mind frolics in its own light.
The night has passed in the jungle of the mind.
The Judo Fist shimmers bright with might.
I have become the Judo Fist.
I am the Judo Fist.

Your Judo Fist is a greasy pork rind,
A figment of your demented mind.
It's a technique used by lesbian prostitutes,
Pimped in the streets, poeticized by kooks.
Your Judo Fist is the monkey in your pants
That drives you wild, in stupid, shamanic cants.
Through the brutalization of the spiritual, you know
You really shouldn't wet your Jehri curl with so much Sooooul Glo.
Your Judo Fist stinks like some poorly cleaned poon;
Oh yeah, and the rest of you really reeks, too.

[John Takeshi]

Being the idiot he is
(It's not an insult, just check my sig),
He threatens ninjas in ominous PM's,
And gets his students to cough up phlegm
And bile to try and discredit my name.
But I query: If you're so succesful, and have such fame,
Why have I never heard of you?
Chuck Norris could teach you a thing or two.
The day now scuttles near like a pride of roaches,
Watch out, my friend, September 29th approaches.

[Seppukku]

By happenstance, I stumbled upon this thread while looking for lyrics to popular kung-fu forms, and I thought I'd take a crack at it, as I have some poetic training:

"Look!" shouted a young Korean child,
With eyes turned to the sky like a sibyl, wild
With glee and consternation at the harrows
Of a world filled with violence and crusty wheelbarrows.
"Look at that eagle, majestic and free!"
Whence down from the sky came a river of pee
As the eagle emptied itself mid-flight o'er the main
And dropped the goods; unweetingly didst it drain
Itself of its own goods, like a Marxist's hated vision,
And bequeathed to the child a mental excision;
For to the child then came the vision of an art
Of flying tornado kicks, complete with kung-fu grips,
And a method of fighting where you don't try to win,
But play tag wearing pads and shouting "Hiyaah!" the loudest to the audience's
collective chagrin.

[Takuan]

Hahaha, I love it

[Seppukku]

Ailsa, thy beauty is to me
Like those Yellowstone parks of yore,
Which are really far away from me
But have these sweet hot geysers
That look like clear pee
Shooting up from the ground
With a hissing sound.

Please ignore the "beauty" part
If in fact you are a dude,
Because that would be lewd
And sinful, according to my dad;
He said so ever since Uncle Robert showed
His "Nads" (whatever those are)
To Cousin Billy
And got sent to jail, I guess because
He robbed a bank or something.

Ailsa, I love you and your kung fu.
And I really hope your a hot, aisan chick
And not some baldhead dude.

[Seppukku]

I happened upon a foriegn root
Of some magnificence,
And I plucked that pretty Wildw00-t
And put it in my pants.

It chafed and left raw skin between
My scrotum and my thighs;
And although it hurt my gonads, sir,
It was so pretty to mine eye

I gazed on pretty Wildw00t
And cried to there behold
A th0rny stalk with poison roots,
Barbs, and a calyx cold.

I felt betrayed, for this fine flow'r
So pretty to mine eyes,
So pink and shiny, became that hour
The bane betwixt my thighs.

I crushed the flower and tossed it to
The sewer drains nearby.
It plunged into the urban sludge
And (God, I hope...) it died.

[Seppukku]

Hello,
we are Hebei overseas chinese school. we held the summer camp for many years. Every year there are a lot of foreigners came to the summer center.It include in:wushu ,qigong,taiji,baguazhang, Taekwondo and so on. we held the program during the summer vocation. You can use the rest time to learn short kungfu training. Short term:15 days Middle term: 30,45,60 days .
Welcome all kungfu lovers join our summer camp. we can't fail you.

Thanks
ailsa

Ailsa......I can't believe this. Here I am, thinking I'm your special friend, your kung fu penlover (instead of "pal"), and you go onto another thread--as soon as I turn my head and walk out of the room--and start offering to "service" some other foriegners? I'm not just some dumb roundeye with no feelings. This is unacceptable conduct. I am really, truly hurt by this disloyalty. I thought we had something real. Something other people could only dream of. We had the world, baby, and you're throwing it all away.



I think you will be owing on myself in an apology.


What happened between you and I? I feel like there's some distance between us. Do you not feel the way you used to? Is our flame flickering out?

I think we need to talk.

Ailsa, thy betrayal is to me
Like Michael Vick in days of yore
Where madly within a kennel's keep
The bloodied pooches who'd lost the fight were borne
And treated like they were corn. (1)

Ah! Thou has treated mine own heart
Like it was an artichoke,
And ate it with a swig of coke
Ere desserts consisting of tarts
Which you purchased a-la-carte.

Wilt thou not love me, pretty girl?
Or have I been the unwitting pawn
Of someone with less breasts than brawn
Who hast played upon me like a pipe (thou Baldhead churl!)
But oh! I cannot hate thee, girl.

I love thee like the canker loves the rose
That blossoms upon the blossoming spud;
I ravish thee with all my thoughts.
I smother thee with love
And we'll drown each other in each other's blood.




(1) Footnote: (For popping)

[Seppukku]

(To be sung to the tune of Jingle Balls)

Driving through the snow
In a four-wheeled SUV,
Through Crip hoods we go,
Fretting all the way

God! God! God!

Keep your hands down, fool!
Get that hankie off your head!
Roll that window up, dude!
Christ, man! We'll all be dead!

Oh!

Angeles, Angeles,
What a stupid name to name
A ghetto in a gang-rid place
Where you carry guns and mace

Oh!

Angeles, Angeles,
South Central is like Hell,
I'd give my left nut for a life
In suburban paradise!

[golden arhat]

Last edited by Seppukku : Today at 03:48 PM. Reason: For Total Awesomeness

XD
XD
XD
XD
XD
XD

that was better than the whole poem

[Seppukku]

Once upon a blase morning, while I sifted through your thread a-snoring,
Over many a quaint and curious insult and libels of ducking,
While I painfully read on, nigh tapping, I suddenly felt like crapping,
For you went on a-raving, so caught up in egotistical pube-shaving.
Your ceaseless quest for humiliation turned back and knocked upon your door-
Like one annoying Jehovah's witness (and maybe two or three more).

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak of June's doldrums
That Satan sent his emissary to wreak havoc on KFM's online forums.
Eagerly I wished the morrow he be banned; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my trolling surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost days of yore -
When we were free from tireless nagging and finger-waving bores....by.....
"1good69" here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain grinding of each ear on the mat
Bored me - filled me with fantastic daydreams never felt before;
So that now, to still the crap-feeling in my loins, I stood a-dreaming
Dreaming of some way I could get that Jehovah's witness from my door,
And with his life-partner fox, and the poop-throwing monkey, and a couple more-
I thought--what if we put them in a cage with a gay bull, and got them gored?

Presently my hope grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"What if," asked I, "instead of getting them anally gored,
We tag-teamed the lot of them and proved that in a group fight you don't want to hit the floor?"
And so gently I came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my patience's door,
Until I decided to kick your ass once and for all - here I opened wide the door.....
And found a duck, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
Because instead of a man, I saw a duck, and I said...."that's just my luck...",
And when I turned my back, the stupid duck then squeaked: "QUACK!QUACK!"
This I whispered, "Go home, duck. Or I'll make you my pot luck."
And an echo murmured back the words, "QUACK! QUACK!"
Like the words were crack.

****Note: Crack 1good69 sells for a very good price*******

Back into the chamber turning, all my anger within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is some person at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.......
Surely 'tis a Jehovah's Witness, and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a haggard duck of the beggarly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of duck and pudding, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Wu Kong, and then took a huge crap on my floor-
He quacked and shat, and nothing more.

Then this silly bird beguiling my sad fancy into shouting,
By the mock-sincere decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no duck.
Ghastly grim and ancient duck wandering from the Whitetrash shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Austonian shore!"
Quoth the Craven, "1good69", and then he crapped some more.

Much I marvelled this unmanly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing a talking duck crap at his chamber door -
And then wipe his ass with our three-ply forum for evermore,
With such name as "1good69" for evermore.

But the Craven, sitting lonely on the placid monkey bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour: "QUACK!"
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "He's a feather-brained twit.
I bet his mother, because he's so ugly, refused him her tit."
Then the bird said, "QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!" and took a crap.

Startled at the stillness broken by poo so startlingly large,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
And what it craps out is what it thinks, and both are equally foul,
And I bet this little silly duck is some sick taxidermist's dung-stuffed fowl.
And its crap is like the melancholy churned up for our boredom's sake,
Which he, under the delusion (which is really a mistake)
That we actually give a crap for all his crap.........
Well, it's time to give some crap right back.

I'm not an Indian giver, and I don't like Koreans either,
Because they do triple-gainer kicks with umo-plata twists and flash commy smiles;
Anyways, so I'm not giving crap because I'm a troll,
But because I'm a crusader for integrity, the which from our forum he stole,
And we all await the booming voice from on high, Mod the Father,
He who gave us genes, to say, once and for all: "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the duck whose fiery eyes now burned into my intestinal core;
This and more I sat divising: "Don't ducks explode if you feed them crackers?
Because they can't expel the gas, or something, and so blow up to the rafters?"
But then I thought--"It'd still spread **** as far as the lamp-light spreads o'er,
And all that foul crap would be lining the ground, with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
So he wins, ah, evermore!"

Then, methought, the air grew denser, oppressed by this nagging Cancer,
Maybe if we fed the duck Royal Dragon he'd implode,
Since Royal Dragon is about as far from a white "cracker" as Mr. T is from getting his own show.
"Wretch," I cried, "Just wait until the Great Moderator on High open his eyes!
Wait until he takes this crap and puts it under ban to make E-Challenge nonsense go away!
Queef, oh queef this kind nepenthe, free us all of your insufferabe bores!"
Quoth the duck, "QUACK!" for evermore.

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if duck or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether Bull****-Taco tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate (of wit) yet all undaunted, on this desert land inbreeding-
On this home by crap infused - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there an end to your crap, or is it like a 'stringer'?
You know, that kind of feces that goes on forever, that you have to cut
When you clench the cheeks of your butt- tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Craven, "QUACK! QUACK!" evermore.

"Prophet! said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if duck or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that Mod we must adore -
Tell this soul with boredom laden why, within the distant South Pole,
Where you and all the other ducks must go half of the year -
Why do you now only fly south when I threaten to plant my fist on your kisser?'
Quoth the duck, "Quack! QUACK!" and then he crapped out his brain upon my floor.

"Be that which was shat our sign of parting, duck or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
"Get thee back to the Bull****-o and the Night's Austonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of the crap thy soul hath taken!
Leave my happiness unbroken! - quit the bust of the monkey above my door!
Take thy beak from out my enjoyment, and take thy form from off my for-um!'
Quoth the Craven, "Nevermore."

And the Craven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of of the monkey just above my forum's door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his feces on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted (unless by intervention of Almighty Mod) - nevermore!