Shaolin Poetry

[Mega-Foot]

Amongst my many talents lies a particular penchant for poetry, and I've learned the devastating art of Shao-lin Poetry from my sensei and tutor, Grandmaster Sensei Takeshi Ukeno, Tenth Dan of Tai Shing Pek Kwar of Chan Tai San lineage, and 10th dan of Shao-lin Ninjitsu.

I have decided to create a thread devoted entirley to poems about Shao-lin warrior arts, for we are something lacking in cultivation on this forum, aren't we?

[Mega-Foot]

Oi Mantid, thy beauty is to me
As a sweet young Korean child. On a killing spree,
Thou dost confide that ere thou croak
Thou wouldst first kill. The Catholic Pope
Prays with less fervor than dost thou,
When he immortalizes Mary. The Holy Cow
Of Hindus is no less holy and spiritual,
Than Christ himself. A perfect Fool
Only would wager she tastes less tart.
(And probably won't make you want to ****.)
I imagine thee always, as a penitent bug,
Sprawled out like an altar boy on the priest's rug,
Kneeling on the floor, hands clasping. A cock
Crows at dawn, and is as reliable as a clock;
But thou art more reliable when thou pray.
I love thee mantid, but not in a gay kind of way.

[Mega-Foot]

Thou still ungarnished herb of iron palm,
Though oft ill-used in commercialized lip balm,
Thou hast grieved me O so wrong:
I think the iron palm has rubbed off on me dong.

[cjurakpt]

I prefer the improvisational work of the great Fezzik...

INIGO
That Vizzini, he can fuss.
FEZZIK
I think he likes to scream at us.
INIGO
Probably he means no harm.
FEZZIK
He's really very short on charm.
INIGO
Oh, you've a great gift for rhyme.
FEZZIK
Yes, some of the time.
INIGO
Are there rocks ahead?
FEZZIK
If there are, we'll all be dead.
VIZZINI
No more rhymes now, I mean it.
FEZZIK
Anybody want a peanut?

[SaintSage]

You know, Mega-Foot, it's funnier when you're less obvious.

[Mega-Foot]

TIGER! Tiger! scary, right?
I like to practice Hung Gar at night.
Though some people might think it's lame,
I really like the Tiger-Crane.

In what strange circumstance would two
Such diverse creatures be subsumed?
I practice this style to get inspired
While I listen to the soundtrack to St. Elmo's Fire.

And what kind of a Chinese crook
Could blend a cat and langorous rook?
They say Fei Hong's Hung Gar was the very best.
I have those movies in a cute little boxset.

What the hell? It's off the chain!
A tiger with a feather-brain!
I'd go outside and practice, yes,
But I slipped in my horse and pulled my ass...

When the gods threw down their shears,
An' lavished thee with their lustful leers,
Did they smile on their works to see?
Did He who hung the horse hung thee?

Tiger! tiger! scary, right?
I often practice Hung Gar at night.
My brother says I'm such a ****,
'Cuz I prance around in pyjamas like a cat pretending to be a gay little stork.

[Mega-Foot]

Some say our art is legend,
Legend be art;
Some say our hearts are hollow,
Hollowed-out hearts;
I like to take those tonges into my grip,
Gripping the tongue,
And practice stitching them to their asses,
Right to the bung.

[Mega-Foot]

To be or not to be, a ninja! Is that a question?
Weather is nicer with the beach as buffer
For the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a levy of troubles,
And with Katrina, drown them (the poor). Eat rye, eat wheat—
No more; and by a wheat to say we the grain
Of heart-burn and the thousand natural shocks
That colons are heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be "Pish'd!" The rye, the wheat—
The wheat, perchance the sourdough. Oi, where's the pub?
For if we ferment wheat what dreams may come,
When we have soused ourselves with Daniel's oil,
Might give us menopause. I get no respect!
I give chlamydia to unfaithful wives,
For who would bear the whips and porns of mine,
Or leather thongs, the gay man's costumely,
The pains of wooden clubs, the mantaray,
The insolent beasts that killed Steve Irwin....

Oh man. I've got to go. One of my students just impaled the postman with a naginata!

No! Don't pull it out!

Wait, why am I typing that....

[Lama Pai Sifu]

Oi Mantid, thy beauty is to me
As a sweet young Korean child. On a killing spree,
Thou dost confide that ere thou croak
Thou wouldst first kill. The Catholic Pope
Prays with less fervor than dost thou,
When he immortalizes Mary. The Holy Cow
Of Hindus is no less holy and spiritual,
Than Christ himself. A perfect Fool
Only would wager she tastes less tart.
(And probably won't make you want to ****.)
I imagine thee always, as a penitent bug,
Sprawled out like an altar boy on the priest's rug,
Kneeling on the floor, hands clasping. A cock
Crows at dawn, and is as reliable as a clock;
But thou art more reliable when thou pray.
I love thee mantid, but not in a gay kind of way.

That is just wrong....on so many levels. I can't even count how many ways that is wrong.

[cjurakpt]

To be or not to be, a ninja! Is that a question?
Weather is nicer with the beach as buffer
For the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a levy of troubles,
And with Katrina, drown them (the poor). Eat rye, eat wheat—
No more; and by a wheat to say we the grain
Of heart-burn and the thousand natural shocks
That colons are heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be "Pish'd!" The rye, the wheat—
The wheat, perchance the sourdough. Oi, where's the pub?
For if we ferment wheat what dreams may come,
When we have soused ourselves with Daniel's oil,
Might give us menopause. I get no respect!
I give chlamydia to unfaithful wives,
For who would bear the whips and porns of mine,
Or leather thongs, the gay man's costumely,
The pains of wooden clubs, the mantaray,
The insolent beasts that killed Steve Irwin....

Oh man. I've got to go. One of my students just impaled the postman with a naginata!

No! Don't pull it out!

Wait, why am I typing that....

God, i hate to admit this - it's quite inspired - but where does this freak find the time?

[Mega-Foot]

Pretty women touch me where my secret lies.
I'm made to kill and my dong's three times the average size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's touching my knee cap right now,
I just rubbed it down with jow,
It's getting bruised
Because it hangs so loose.
I'm a ninja
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal ninja,
That's me.

I steathily sneak into a room
But you're stupid, and won't see,
And I kill you man,
Or I slice your ankle tendons
And you fall down on your knees.
Then the kata Dante makes short work
Of you. I could kill you with a spork.
I say,
It's the jow on my dong,
For the length of it is long,
It's tied around my waist,
and I can stretch it and use it for a shoelace.
I'm a ninja
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal ninja,
That's me.

Now you understand
Why the women can't keep their hands
Off of my body when I'm in my sneakthief suit,
And I'm wearing my climbing claws and boots.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
I can sprint o'er banana peels,
I once drank a whole can of mace
And puked it up on an enemy's face
To add my bile to aid the burn;
I once cut off my hand
To feel what it's like to be a man,
'Cause I'm a ninja
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal ninja,
That's me.

[Mega-Foot]

I hate thy kicks,
Thy punches,
Thy voice.
You're like a female Arnold
On steroids.
I have the suspicion that for all your hate
For Mattera and USSD
That you were his bedmate.
But my love for thee bids me redact:
I love it when you shut your trap.

[xcakid]

^^^^^^^^^^

I have a feeling the above post is the making of a flame war with SK Girl.


Me: [get popcorn, beer and comfortable seat] :D

[CLFLPstudent]

The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.
They lay. They rotted. They turned
Around occassionally.
Bits of flesh dropped off them from
Time to time.
And sank into the pool's mire.
They also smelt a great deal.

[bodhitree]

Mega, you should be published. You know I have a friend at McGraw Hill....

[Mega-Foot]

A Tibetan monk takes a wizz in a stream,
And verily he beholds a most bizarre dream,
And dream it be not, though he cannot tell,
For an ape and a crane are going at it pell-mell.
Wherefore came the crane to fight with the ape?
Well, the ape had gotten randy, and swore that it'd rape
The very next thing that he saw that noon,
And so tried to get a piece of the feathery poon.
The poon looked so good, but his eye was to fault,
And wouldn't you know it? That eye get pecked out.
So he fled to the forest, and gave up his quest
To plant his ape eggs in that fowl's sweet nest.
Meanwhile the dazed monk, who was standing mid-stream,
Swore he'd never had such a bizarre daydream;
Yet he too caught a glimpse of the feathery poon
And created a style that would get him a piece, too;
For he used the crane first and the ape's movements last,
Knowing if he couldn't get crane poon, he could get some ape ass.

[NJM]

Mist rises over the temple wall
Upon the shaven heads it falls
And tourists lined up past the gate
Trade money for certif-i-cates.

[TenTigers]

I'm still waiting to hear the rest of,
"There once was a Monk from Nantucket..."

[cjurakpt]

Mist rises over the temple wall
Upon the shaven heads it falls
And tourists lined up past the gate
Trade money for certif-i-cates.

Bearing gifts, Matteras came,
DeMasco and students much the same.
The Kempo art, the tablets show,
Began here 10,000 years ago.

[NJM]

Bearing gifts, Matteras came,
DeMasco and students much the same.
The Kempo art, the tablets show,
Began 10,000 years ago.

Secret Katas of Shaolin
You find them in the bargin bin.

[SaintSage]

I'm still waiting to hear the rest of,
"There once was a Monk from Nantucket..."

There once was a Monk from Nantucket,
Who threw Hot coals in a bucket.
He went to begin
But to his chagrin
He got scared and finally yelled "**** It!"

[MonkeyKingUSA]

Monkey see, Monkey do,
We kick, we bite, we fling our poo.
So if you cross your hands with me,
Beware the wrath of Monkey pee

Richard A. Tolson

[cjurakpt]

Secret Katas of Shaolin
You find them in the bargin bin.

And practice them for all to see
While wearing a Karate gi.

[cjurakpt]

I'm still waiting to hear the rest of,
"There once was a Monk from Nantucket..."

There once was a Monk from Nantucket,
Whose spear was so light he could chuck it.
Where it went, none would know
Except Blind Master Po.
You'd have thought the old codger would duck it.

[jethro]

Megafoot may be the only person on this site weirder than Hieronim.

[cjurakpt]

Megafoot may be the only person on this site weirder than Hieronim.

forgotten Happeh so soon, have you?

[brothernumber9]

This "Mega-Foot" is a Mega-Fraud. He is not the real Mega Foot.

You know nothing of the tiger spiritual or 'what the F' n bald chicks' and fit babes. Shenanigans I say!!

[PlumDragon]

Hard fingery veins.
Digging deeper in the dirt.
Good root is acheived.

[John Takeshi]

Root can't be achieved in the sand;
Nor permanence by prints of hands;
The Tide washes them all away;
OJ got acquitted in that same way.

Birds of a feather can fly,
But never can a feathered guy;
He'll fall to his peril instead,
Like Greg Luganis, and hit his head.

Shaolin is the tiger of mind,
And the spiritual of the onion rind;
It'll bring tears to your cheek,
But it doesn't mean you're a *****, or weak.

Practice Shaolin and I vow
You'll kill, if you're not killing right now,
And you will know maximum pleasure,
And drive a sleek Mercedes lined with leather.

Shaolin can make you rich,
Especially if you have a good sales' pitch.
Shaolin can make you poor,
And ravish you like a cankered *****.

Be careful my witless mates;
Far better it were to masturbate
Than be tossed up like a salad,
And repeatedly so, like an 80's ballad.

Shaolin can both love and hate;
Shaolin can both nurture and execrate.
My Shaolin has an untarnished name;
And your Shaolin is kind of lame.

[John Takeshi]

My hands are a weapon of death,
Just like Lokhopkuen's bootay-breath.

[John Takeshi]

Xia-syters are a wretched breed;
They're slimy, disgusting, and never clean.
They smell like a rotting fish,
Basted in mucus, and seasoned with [****]. [urine]
They've been known to live only on lies,
And they pretend like they're nice kinds of guys;
But never present them your back.
Because that's when they pull their knives and attack.
They'll spread it about that they know
The dragon mind, but do it for show.
They'll never Acquire the mind
Of the spiritual tiger, or the onion rind.
They'll just denigrate this forum
With their hatred, lies, and opprobrium.
Better it were to shuck
The Xia-ysters than to test your luck,
And feed them to a flea-bitten dog,
And let him make the stinky log.

[John Takeshi]

Shao-lin Ninjitsu is real,
And if you sign up for two years
You get a real good deal.
Most clubs charge around 99
Dollars per month for limited time.
You can live at my secret commune,
And learn from me; I'm a righteous dude.
Just ask Andy, my grandmaster and mate.
And on Fridays we bake chocolate cakes.

[NJM]

Shao-lin Ninjitsu is real,
And if you sign up for two years
You get a real good deal.
Most clubs charge around 99
Dollars per month for limited time.
You can live at my secret commune,
And learn from me; I'm a righteous dude.
Just ask Andy, my grandmaster and mate.
And on Fridays we bake chocolate cakes.

Shaolin-Ninjitsu is fake;
When I saw this thread rezzed I had to give a double-take.
Dojo in the ghetto, master's degrees only.
Wong Fei Hung did Ninjitsu?
That sh1t's just plain phony.
Secret ninja commune?
Otaku LARPers in costume.
GM Chan Tai San trained not even a day
In Shaolin or Ninjitsu;
Just the notion is ghey.

[John Takeshi]

There were ten tigers of Canton.
Sometimes they put their ninja suits on
And did missions to protect the people.
The finders keep, and the losers weep-le.

[bodhitree]

Xia-syters are a wretched breed;
They're slimy, disgusting, and never clean.
They smell like a rotting fish,
Basted in mucus, and seasoned with [****]. [urine]
They've been known to live only on lies,
And they pretend like they're nice kinds of guys;
But never present them your back.
Because that's when they pull their knives and attack.
They'll spread it about that they know
The dragon mind, but do it for show.
They'll never Acquire the mind
Of the spiritual tiger, or the onion rind.
They'll just denigrate this forum
With their hatred, lies, and opprobrium.
Better it were to shuck
The Xia-ysters than to test your luck,
And feed them to a flea-bitten dog,
And let him make the stinky log.


Once again John is confronted by his nemesis, that of spelling. It is spelt shyster (http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&q=shyster). Get an education and learn judo katana before you write shaolin poetry again.

[NJM]

There were ten tigers of Canton.
Sometimes they put their ninja suits on
And did missions to protect the people.
The finders keep, and the losers weep-le.

Let me enlighten you about those great men who lived way-back-when:
Wong Yan-Lam, Wo Ching Ho, Sue Hak Fu, Wong Kei-Ying, Lai Yun Chu, So Chan, Chow Tai, Tiit Ku Saam, Tiit Chi Chan, and Tam Chai Hok; these were them.
And Wong Fei Hung was considered by some
To be one of those Tigers, the Tiger after Ten.
And not one of those eleven
Ever donned a ninja suit,
and went rollin'/patrollin' in the Land under Heaven.

[John Takeshi]

I was angry with some dude:
I told him he was being rude.
He told me to take a chill pill:
I took it not, for I'm not ill.

And I shunned the pill of chills,
I put it in a bottle of dills,
And I made it sour and gross
And all the while grew more morose.

And it grew grosser both day and night,
Till it became a pickle bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine, -

And into my kitchen stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched, drenched in pee.

[John Takeshi]

In Veritas Vidibas

Let me englighten your mind, to make it even enlightener:
Wong Fei Hung and the ten tigers
Were ninjas born and christened in blood.
They knew no fear, when 'midst their trade,
Although Tam Chai Hok had this weird thing about torturing dogs with his monk spade.
Other than that, they were straight-up ninjas,
And you don't know anything about that, do you? Figures.....

[NJM]

John Takeshi
Is a man big and fleshy,
Whose cosplay outfits aren't rivaled by many.
Comic-Con, Otaku-Con, Sakura-Con, he rides,
He's got two level seventy Warlocks, tier five!
He logs on every morning to his Apple computer,
(Because, they say, you don't have to reboot-er)
And after having a fap to the picture threads,
He enters his forum topic everyone dreads.
"Master's degree! Not PhD!"
He libels the names of Ten Tigers with glee.
And writes how Bodhitree was covered in pee.
I think he'd better stick to writing crappy fanfiction,
Because if he pushes his Bullshi1t,
He'll be feelin some friction.

[bodhitree]

Poetry with urine humor. It's sad this website doesn't require a Ph. D., Ph. D.'s would not write such shameful dribble.


My mate asked me: "Do you want to go to a boxing class"


I replied: "I only do martial arts that are a fusion of at least three cultures, as to not be racist".


I hope that proves how worldly I am.

[John Takeshi]

Poetry with urine humor. It's sad this website doesn't require a Ph. D., Ph. D.'s would not write such shameful dribble.

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.

[John Takeshi]

NJM is an abbreviation
For "ninja judo man!"
A kind of Latino slang,
That tells me just how cool I am.

[John Takeshi]

I think today I proved my rep
That of all Shaolin poets, I'm the best.
None of you can hold a candle to my star.
Now I'm going out to get in my car
To take a drive for some chicks.
I better not bag one that cuts her hair with a Shick.

[NJM]

NJM is an abbreviation
For "ninja judo man!"
A kind of Latino slang,
That tells me just how cool I am.

I think today I proved my rep
That of all Shaolin poets, I'm the best.
None of you can hold a candle to my star.
Now I'm going out to get in my car
To take a drive for some chicks.
I better not bag one that cuts her hair with a Shick.

You have come to the conclusion and made the frank allusion
to our nonexistent, unstable and unfounded ineptitude.
Takeshi stands for Tenuously Articulate Kumite Educator Spewing Horrible Inconsistencies.

Well I tell you what shucka
Your Honda Civic hasn't picked you up nothin but brothas.
Your candle was out before the wick hit the lighta,
Shaolin-Ninjitsu didn't make you no fighta.
I'm NJM, And a Judo-man I aint,
Nor do I chill with your LARPer ninj-ang.
*Hold it back now*
Takeshi, ya betta back off foo
Cause in RL no-one follows your point-sparring rules.

"Careful with that mic,"Take-shi!

[The Xia]

Through the river of time,
Not a year has gone by,
That the Wudang Shaolin Ninja Do Pai,
Has been detached from the glorious bind,
Of its uproarious Soke,
Whose name is spoken by many, but known by few.
The Judo Fist blossoms from the glistening of the spiritual.
Transformation into the Judo Fist lays the seeds.
The mind of the dragon spiritual is spotted in the storm of the mind.
The mind of the dragon spiritual and the mind of the tiger spiritual harmonize.
There is true knowledge of the true essence of true enlightenment of the true spiritual.
Marvel as the spiritual flows through the Judo Fist!
The essence of Wudang, Shaolin, and Ninja is the essence of the mind!
The dark spiritual illuminates the shadows!
Warfare!
Physical, mental, and spiritual,
Unite in true mastery!
Mastery radiates from the spiritual.
The spiritual is the light of the Judo Fist.
The true spiritual harmonizes the essence of enlightenment of the Judo Fist!
This is the way of General Tso.

[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 (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showpost.php?p=783820&postcount=16),
his ninjahood (http://imartial.com/player-Profile.aspx?uid=1365) overcompensation in a major way
his commune plays grabass (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showpost.php?p=783532&postcount=1)
with his whisp he acts so crass (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showpost.php?p=784504&postcount=43)
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 (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showpost.php?p=784254&postcount=41)

He'll stike you down with a judo katana (http://ezine.kungfumagazine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=38400),
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 :D

[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!

[Seppukku]

Poem Title: "Macbethnoe"
By John Galt Takeshi

The Argument

Out, out, ****ed sot!
Out, ****'d sot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
'tis time to do't.—This crap is murky.—
Fie, my duck, fie, a duck, and afeard?
What need we fear who knows it,
when none can call our pow'r to accompt?—
Yet who would have thought the old, fat, ugly duck
to have had so much crap in him?
He got a spot on my gi! Out, ****'d sot!

Canto I (Or, A Satyr Upon the Trew Blew-Belt Protesting Know-It-All)


All ducking things get challenged some ol' day.
When Takeshi Summons, that duck will fly away;
This Blue-Belt found, who like Ganymede young,
Himself upon the shorter end of some auspicious schlong;
In Prose and Verse was PWN'd without Dispute,
Through all the Realms of Nonsense, he reigned Absolute;
This Blue-Belt, now, whilst languishing in wit,
And blest with Issue of a large amount of bull****,
Worn out by "Business", did at length Debate,
To settle our grudge on the appointed Date,
And Pond'ring, which of all his skills were fit
To help him, quickly (and wisely) dismissed his Wit,
Cry'd: "'Tis Resov'd! (for Cowardice pleads, that he
Should only Fight who least resembles me,)
Tayl--- alone my perfect Image Bears,
Mature in Cowardice from his Yellow-belt Years;
That belt infused my body, and tainted all my blood,
So that the yellow streak not only stains my back,
But runneth through my veins, forsooth,
From my head to foot, and then right back.
Tayl--- alone of all my Sons, is He
Who stands confirm'd in full Stupidity;
The rest of the flock, to some faint meaning make Pretence,
But Tayl-- never deviates into Sence;
Some Beams of Wit on other Souls may fall,
Strike through, and make a Lucid Interval;
But Tayl--- Genuine Night admits no Ray,
His rising Fogs prevail upon the Day;
Besides, his goodly Fabric fills the Eye,
And seems design'd for thoughtless Majesty."

So he said, but his last words were scarcely heard
For John and Sensei Hoyle had a Trap prepar'd
And down they sent the yet declining Blue-Belt;
Crapping, he had no paper in the stall, and had to use his hand,
And so caught E-Coli because he later ate with that hand,
And realized, "John Takeshi is all that is man,
And I'm a duck, and I'll always be a duck, that's just my luck,
I feel like crying, aw.....whimper....sob....well, ****."

F I N I S.