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 SparkyLand Poetry


Hi, I'm Mr. Serious.  I'm serious.  Read these poems. 

Email me some poems and let me know if you would like them posted.


People Get Ready, By Boreal Heath 2006-02-12

Layin it down in the old fashion style, my porche is broke but I got a little while so let's take it to the street where this shizzle all began lay a blessing on tha mothers asleep in Japan so people get ready, people get down I'm that only fat cat fillin this sound and if ya don't like it you can turn around but then just turn around and turn around and turn around and turn around and turn around inside of this sound

from the gulf of Mexico to all tha Maine snow I'm cooking up the beats as fast as I can go put the rhythm in neutral and take it on back so next time you can lay down an attack to get this party started like nobody's bizzness a hurricane from mars like celestial hipness so people get ready, people get down

people get ready people get down

people get ready people get down


DIRE DETERMINATION, By D. Andrew Bagin & Christopher J. Rogalski 2006-02-12

Tackle in the left, my pole in the right I walk to the spot, where I felt that bite.

How will I find it, or plan my attack? I will be prepared, might never come back

I will catch that beast, that has cost me so much my old rod and reel, it snapped as I clutched

So where to go first, how long will it last? Memories of the fish swam by so fast.

How far will I reach, what strength will I need? My time and patience, this time I'll succeed.

The ripples I see, passed the submerged rock I know that its her, her I cannot shock

I find my footing, wipe sweat off my brow, hearts beating quickly, I better act now

She's coming my way, she'll decide to turn out to deep water, the thought made me burn

No change in her path, as if its a dare suddenly disappeared- her tail's not there.

She went for a plunge, near the lobster traps, If I'd let it low, I'd hook her perhaps?

I've played her games, for hours on end Cast after cast, my pole had no bend

She's out in the foam, her dark fins flash by I'll throw out my lure, it's her time to die

A Bite and a tug, now I'm in the fight Pulling and reeling, this could last all night

My 20 lb. line, I hope its enough. Reeling her ashore, nothing short of tough.

The butt of my pole, jammed into my waist It is my turn now, with more force I braced.

Using all my strength, its down to the wire After all that work

I've dragged in a tire


Colors      by Sumaia Yamin       2005-03-10

what is pink?A rose is pink
By the fountains brink.
what is red?A popy's red
In its barely bed.
what is blue?A sky is blue
where the clouds float through.
what is white?A swan is white
sailing in the light.
what is yellow?pears are yellow
rich and ripe and mellow.
what is green?the grass is green
with small flowers between.
what is voilet? clouds are voilet
In the summer twilight.
what is orange?why,an orange,
Just an orange !
i write this on 10/3/2005 thursday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Here is the certificate I sent to Samaia for her excellent poem!  Sorry it took so long!



Master Plan, by HMC . 2004-09-08

Master beats have their own tempo, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, 

but never failing to keep the heart sailing 

in a blind test driver, sumo-survivor, allowance conniver, 

treadin' on razor wire, a busted up tire, 

two-fitty pair o' pliers, set your mind on fire, 

with effortless ease, a sweet pretty please, making me sneeze, 

when I look at the light, so I set out tonight, to make everything right, 

so when you settle down to bed, there'll be sugar plums dancing in your head....

Suffice to say, I'm making my way, 

to fill your delight of mad songs in sight, 

right now however, I'm stuck in my sweater, 

can't find no arm-holes to free my ski poles, 

to set down to make, a pleasant sound-quake, 

but never you fear, it will be less than a year, 

you'll get the prize and a new pair of eyes.



Untitled, by HALIP MAN. 2004-01-21

crocodile ceral makes your breath stank
water jelly porridge in the fish tank
semi-truckin' highways in the summer time
olive loaf in super-market passed by
tricks or trix or beats or beets
sox or socks or feet or feet
willy wonka wonderland
my dad can eat a can of spam
i think i saw a whippy wow
spray a paint of cans, but how?
intrinsicly i climb the hill
upon which i will will my will
and climb back down with fresher breath
until more crocodile cereal i ingest.


My Horse, by Dr. Doom the Optimist. 2003-12-01

my horse is a pain
whenever he sees a train
he gallops away
and eats some hay 


Sometimes you just want a nap and sometimes you can't cause you're stuck at work, by HMAC. 2003-08-24

Aboobakka says, "Watch me dance." He twirls and fills the frame with his billowing skirts. He stands on his tip toes and crows like a goose. He does a back bend and holds it like a bridge for a troop of baby ferrets to bound across. He feeds them peanut butter with a spoon and smiles when they keep licking their chops. He balances on a huge plastic beach ball and sails into a huge creamy wedding cake for his finale.


After the show, his happy face comes off and what's left is sad and tired. His back hurts no matter how he lays. His shirt has been cutting into his neck all day. He moans. No one's listening. He pretends to choke, but no one comes running. So he sighs heavily and pours himself a bowl of cereal. Half-way through it he begins to cry. He scrubs off his face and slowly gets up. He picks up a shovel and goes outside. He digs a large hole. He stops to catch his breath. He stares at the hole. With a small whimper he drops the shovel and climbs in the hole. He curls up and soon he is asleep.


How did it all come to this? He used to be happy. People would smile at him and shake his hand. Women would bat their eyes his way. He had money and a home. His heart was light. Then one day it began to rain. And it rained, and rained, and rained. When it stopped, everything was damp and dark. Cold winds whipped his clothes around. The sun had left. And with it so had the sparkle in his eye.


All he had left was his dancing which made his back hurt and his knees tired. Most days he forgot to eat. One day he was walking in the cold and damp and a lone ray of light seemed ready to drill through the gray canopy. He smiled and stamped in a puddle to celebrate. But the dark folded over itself and snuffed the light and all he was left with were wet pants.


He was tired. So tired. And so he slept in his hole. And the next day when the morning came, he kept sleeping. And the next day too. For it was only in his dreams that he could truly remember the sun.


4-Eva B-real 2-Getha Number Eleven, by Stee D. 2003-05-15

spot moppin' sections

corsica connections

makin' my voice reach brand new inflections

diggy diggy diggit

water from the spigot

time to drench your ears

amway tiers

causin' fears

rippin' through this space

with a pocket full of bass

witches brew like mase

on your face

pain embrace

is you causin' ruckus?

is you causin' ruckus?


Untitled, by Stee D. 2002-12-05

digga digga dee digga wee see me.
digga digga hey digga clay day pee.


Stellag-T, by Whammy Wonderpants. 2002-11-15

Unilateral action, maction

Megamitz respondz traction

ascension fourth spikes molten

likwid soundserupt thundbolten




Power Galacticon

Super Infracticon




Global recon

falcon defcon


Mighty SuperPowercon

Freaky Power Plasticon

Rad Flapticon

Bad mapticon

Super novacon




Clickon Icon







Coconut Monkey

One time there was a Monkey

It was a coconut Monkey

It's head was shaped like a coconut

Maybe it was a coconut


The monkey was hairy

Kind of like a coconut

The monkey ate bugs

Off of other monkeys



George Washington

George Washington crossing the Delaware

uh uh uh-uh-uh ch ch.

He's got red coats in his underwear

uh uh uh-uh-uh ch ch



My Dog Blaise is a Dinosaur

My dog Blaise is a dinosaur.

He has big teeth.

Listen to him roar.