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February 01
That Guy, FUCK THAT GUY
A Poem By Clive, That is rapidly becoming a Cult Classic
The only poem to date, that Clive has been Commissioned to Write.
HE IS A FUCKING WORM OF A MAN... DO YOU UNDERSTAND ?
THAT GUY... FUCK THAT GUY
HE IS A BASTARD, A BITCH, A CUNT, A DICK
A COCK-SUCKING ARTISTIC SLUT OF A FAN
THAT GUY FUCK THAT GUY
ALTHOUGH I DON'T HATE THAT FUCKING GUY
I DON'T KNOW WHY ?
SCUMMY SLIMY RODENT SHIT OF HIS KIND
WALKS THE FACE of GOD'S GREEN
MOTHER EARTH
A PLACE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THIS
HIS JAUNDICED FACE AS YELLOW AS PISS
THE SPINELESS WIMP
LOVES TO BE BUTT-FUCKED
BY A GIMPS MISSING LIMB
AND THEN THE STUMP
HUMP HUMP HUMP
HE LICKS OFF THE FECES
AND SMACKS HIS SHIT INFESTED LIPS
SECRETLY HE EnJOYS GLADYS KNIGHT'S PIPS
IN WAYS ONLY HE COULD FATHOM
THAT GUY FUCK THAT GUY
DETEST I COMPREHEND
AN EMOTION TOO NEGATIVE FOR A FRIEND
BUT NOT FOR
THAT GUY FUCK THAT GUY
THAT FUCKING PIECE OF FUCK
FUCK THAT GUY, FUCK THAT GUY, FUCK THAT GUY
FUCK THAT MOTHER FUCKIN', BONED in the ASS, BY THE gIMPS MISSING LIMB
Feces lickin' piece of Shit
AH how I COULD GO ON FOR GOOD PIECE
LOOKING' For a NEW LIFE
HOW MUCH IS THE LEASE?
Oh yea!, One Last Thing
Did I Mention?
The Dimension, Of the Horizons
That Have Been Broadened
Just Because I am evilC
Doesn't Mean I am Rotten to the Core
Maybe a Bore, But not a Whore
Like That GUY
FUCK THAT GUY! December 22
A Butt Plug Up Your Ass
By Clive
( To the tune of The Rolling Stones "Jumpin' Jack Flash" by Jagger /Richards)
I was born in a butt plug factory
And I howled at my prostate when I peed,
Yes Indeed
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right. A butt plug up your ass,
Blocks the Gas! Gas! Gas!
I was raised by a Ben Wa balls retailer,
I was schooled with a gay Popeye the Sailer,
MAN! (toot toot)
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, a butt plug up your ass,
Blocks the Gas! Gas! Gas!
I was inundated, by some Hollywood Prostitutes.
Yeah they catered to the fetish of thigh high red leather boots.
I was a Lil' jaded by the castrated eunuch mutes. (Fuckin' no testis non-rhymin' mimes) (Think outside the box)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I was ill fated to date old madam pooppy chutes.
Yes Indeed,
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, a butt plug up your ass,
Blocks the Gas! Gas! Gas!
A butt plug up your ass, Blocks the Gas!
A butt plug up your ass, Blocks the Gas!
A butt plug up your ass, Blocks the Gas!
Phdt
PU July 24
Eye Degeneration
By evilC
Derived from the Who's: "My Generation"
People try to put us d-down
talkin' macular degeneration
Just because we got a hoveround
(Hi My Name is Tom Kruse  and I disperse by progression!)
talkin' macular degeneration
Things they read are awful b-b-bold
talkin' macular degeneration
I hope I die before I get old (Too late for that dumbass)
talkin' macular degeneration
This is eye degeneration
This is eye degeneration, baby
Why don't you all f-fade away (Kinda the point here!)
talkin' macular degeneration
And don't try to dig a six foot g-g-grave
talkin' macular degeneration
I'm not trying to evilCoz sudden death s-s-sensation
talkin' macular degeneration
I'm just talkin' bout eye d-d-g-g-generation
talkin' macular degeneration
This is eye degeneration
This is eye degeneration, baby
Why don't you all f-fade away
talkin' macular degeneration
And don't try to dig a six foot g-g-rave
talkin' macular degeneration
I'm not trying to evilCoz sudden death s-s-sensation
talkin' macular degeneration
I'm just talkin bout eye d-d-g-g-generation
talkin' macular degeneration
This is eye degeneration
This is eye degeneration, baby
People try to put us d-down
talkin' macular degeneration
Just because we got a hoveround 
(Hi My Name is Tom Cruise 
and I disperse by progression!)
talkin' macular degeneration
Things they read are awful b-b-bold
talkin' macular degeneration
I hope I die before I get old (Too late for that dumbass)
talkin' macular degeneration
This is eye degeneration
This is eye degeneration, baby
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0XknwXqLDo
| May 29
Dear Bob,
I had just seen you Bob, at the Orpheum Theater, in Omaha, NE, '1991' or '2' or maybe even, "Love Minus Zero equals No Limit".
At the end of the show, there was a little line forming around to the side...
Exit stage left!
Those standing in that line, had high hopes, and enchanted dreams of meetings, and things, interviews, pictures, and or, at the very least, all I want, is an autograph...
Actually, I to give... For it is better, than to receive!
It seemed to me, that in all pro Bob (Top of the) bill at he, (Probability) like Elvis, you too, Bob, had left the Building. Although conflicting reports, of course, stated otherwise...
The Line was going in 'no direction known'. (Fast, I had to eat soon, or my muscles would be doomed to the bones of the cancerous cellular fat head phones wringing them bells like bottlenecks. All the way to the Gates Of Eden!)
After about 10 minutes, the tout. (I mean, tour. But come to think of it! I guess he was about the same tautness as I!) The Tour Manager hadn't shown his face, once yet... Don't think Twice, It's Alright Ma, I'm only frying... My brains out from the colorful sight of the bright stage light and a little dose of LSD too went he (25 or 6 to 4) Clive. Next Stop Chicago!
Already at the "End of the Line", I didn't have to step back, just to the side, and a one, and a two, and a... (My friend Bo Rose, says: "Clive! What in the Hell are you doing Man?") I took a Leap on Marianne & Ginger's Faith Hill, and, on, onto the stage!
As the island slowly sank...
It wasn't long then. (And maybe it never will be?)
From out of the shadows, enter stage fright...
The tour manager says: "Can I help you?"
I say: "Well, I don't know? Who are you?" (I really wanna know?) (Who who) (Who who) Like a Roger Doll tree and Re:Pete-ing Town send HOWL.
He says: "I am the touring Manager"
I say: "Well then!" (I meant now, but I was using Minnesota speck.) "Yes you can! Could you please make sure that Bob Gets this?" Pulling the Cassette tape out, that I had pocketed for the leap, up-staged... (By everyone, because I'm just a jest and a bumbling poetaster that does old doggerel tricks).
Extending my hand, to hand it to his hand, which, as soon as he saw what it was, he withdrew his hand.
He could not "Handle With Care"
Backing up, as if the tape was demonic.
He said: "Oh no no no!" (I don't smoke it no more) "No cassettes, Please! Because of Street Legal reasons we can't accept any tapes, I'm so sorry".
I said: "Well now!" (Saying what I meant, and meaning what I said, a Californian/Nebraskan's word may not be 100% in their in suing ways? But in my cassette tape case it is, and was, as I was speaking in NE/CAL speck now!) "Hows about a nice.....................
...POEM?
Partially inspired by Bob, with Bob, as Bob, playing Bob himself, with a cameo role in it" (The Poem That Is!)
(I'll bet you thought, I was going to say Hawaiian Punch?)
Well now, the Touring Manager was all friendly, and stuff, stepping toward me again.
The poem was folded, and placed inside, with the tape. He was a little apprehensive, yet again...
I had to assure him, of no tricks or tapes. (My Hollow Weenie was coming up soon! I saw a pretty girl winking).
I was getting a little shaky at this point, because I never knew of the poisonous qualities of ferro-chrome-oxide.
And out it came, THE POEM, that is, which he, positively 4th street guaranteed, that you Bob, was fan of your fans...
And further more, demands, that all of your fans poetry be accepted, and hand delivered, immediately, if not, by the OK Sooners. (We're in NE REM member) (It's not the end of the world as we know it! YET).
And you would most definitely get it... (Even if you got it, would you really get it?)
So Bob,
Did you get it?
The title was:
"Christmas 1990 Whatever"
By Clive
October 16
5 Years Gone
By Clive
(Actually written as a song.
See http//groups.msn.com/evilCozPoetry for explanation)
It’s advantageous
To be courageous
Yet you cower in a tower of trade
It’s outrageous
To be contagious
So you flower in your bower afraid
I’m sad to say
That on this day
Five years gone
I sing this song
It’s advantageous
To be courageous
Yet you cower in a tower of trade
It’s outrageous
To be contagious
So you flower in your bower afraid
I hope to say
That on this day
Five years from now
Ohhh Some How
It’s advantageous
To be courageous
No more cowards bomb the towers of trade
It’s outrageous
For Ewe’s to estrange us
Come out of your bower and flower unafraid
Baaaaaaa Baaaaa Bad Baghdad
We’ve got a cure
To make you pure
An Antigen
That’s Cleaner than Oxygen
All those diseases
Please be eased and gone
Just like that lying part of the pentagon
And to the bearers
Of all the terrors
May Peace Reign
And Fire Cease
It’s ostentatious
When your tenacious
To be a coward that bombed the towers of trade
It’s outrageous
When your contagious
And the fear thats fought is still afraid
Don’t get me wrong
With this song
I can evilC
How
Suicide without simplicity
Is an atrocity
Yet commendable to the evilCoz
Just because…
But of Love
I’ll never be tired
Even after I’m retired
So let the Doves free
And let our goals be
No more Horrors of the Wars
I know it will envolve
Quite a few chores
But of War
We should deplore
And go on
With Peace, Love, glee,
And Harmony
And though that day
I’m sad to say
May never come
So for now
I’m sad to say
That on this day
Five years gone
I sing this song
It’s advantageous
To be courageous
Yet you cower in a tower of trade
It’s outrageous
To be contagious
So you flower in your bower afraid
Wilted and spayed
The Bid you bade
Was Raised and called
And the fall of babble on
Won’t be long…
Or…
The Fall of Babylon
Has come and gone…
And maybe?
I’ll evilC you in Clive years
With a brand new song!
 Bomb bomb bomb bomb
Bottled bomb bomb
Me And A Ring (Meandering)
By Clive (evilC)
I went over to the Jeweler Guy the other day
It was the 31st of July, and that Jeweler Guy was gay
The heat was sweltering, My poor pores were pouring and peltering
Beads of sweat...
I blinked and winked, mumbled and thinked
Hey I had better wipe this perspiration from my eye...
So in a semi-seductive
Manner,
I quick draw my bandanner,
Which was really a real pretty silk scarf
It was one of those ebullient butterfly designs,
Evidently hot steamy mist, sending signs
I don't know?
I found it at,
The laundromat.
Now I got that gay pawn store man, in the palm of my hand, his heart a melting.
I didn't really come in for a thing
Just to get out of the heat
But I didn't miss a beat
Now I got this ring
I cooled down a bit
On my way
And now I sing...
Me and a ring meandering
Down the way
On the lookout
For a fiance`
Me and a ring meandering
Down the way
On the lookout
For a fiance`
Oh by the way
I'm not gay
As I evilC
It could look that way...
But that's OK,
If you are!
Your Memories Are Crap
Crohn's Disease, IBS,
Or, Just Cutting More Unmemorable Scatological Crap!
By evilC
Your Memories are right up your ass!
If only You could cut them out with a piece of glass,
You might have something there?
Your Memories are up in your rectum,
If you could just poop them out...
You might have a wider spectrum?
For sure, your sphincter would be!
Wider that is!
If not only for just that one fleeting moment.
Your memories are shit and your constipated.
Its too bad to be unfit and will be ill fated...
I fell over in a massive seizer for you!
Oh the pain was worse than a blank do do...
Do you remember me?
I understand if you don't.
Butt I wont be understanding for long.
evilCoz you gotta sit to shit!
Oh sure, you can hover my X-lover!
Butt when heave comes ho,
And push come to shove,
It all goes down to where you aim from above...
Unless your a bad shot?
Still can't help butt cum close!
So...
Batten down the hatches,
Bottoms up,
And...
Bombs away!
Flush your memories after the laxative kicks in,
Just be glad that you can still grin!
For it is better to have an empty bed/ed-head ( / = slash )
Than to have a life full of limp pee pee dread...
Drip
Or is it?
Your Memories are right up your ass!
If only You could cut them out with a piece of glass,
You might have something there?
Your Memories are up in your rectum,
If you could just poop them out...
You might have a broader spectrum?
Oh so it's broads now is it?
Something I always thought of shoulders on women.
And didn't want them any wider than my own.
(I mean really! Who wants a bitch that can kick your ass?)
Kinda like my hair that goes to my ass,
I don't want a gal with shorter than mine.
I girl with hair down to where she pee's
Sure enough makes me weak in my knees
Regardless of what shit anyone remembers
I may just drop, wheeze, and beg oh please
Butt that wouldn't be so attractive now would it?
Staind, Fuel, Creed, all the same to me...
And Nickelback is just cheap, damned whee!
Jeez I can't remember where this was going?
SOAD there is no suffering in not knowing!
Or is there?
I don't know?
Butt if there is,
You'd better bring you own bomb... not booze!
Oh sure it may loosen the cooze...
May even convert some Jews,
And club wannabes to join and pay their dues...
Speaking of do do's...
Frown, fade to brown...
And remember this!
Your Memories are right up your ass!
If only You could cut them out with a piece of glass,
You might have something there?
Your Memories are up up and away up in your rectum,
If you could just poop them out...
Your sure and sorry ass just might have a wider spectrum?
For sure, your sphincter would be!
Wider that is!
If not only for just that one bleeding moment.
Your memories are shit and your constipated.
Its too bad to be unfit and will be ill fated...
From of the bowels of Hell,
To,
The end.
January 10
|
Every other Sunday Morning, I used to write something derogatory toward Poetry.com, at/on Poetry.com. This is not always easy, because they do have filters that won't except every piece of text... i.e. censorshiping my great ark of artistic endeavors. The reason I have chose to flame the pages of poetry.com is: Because of the magnificent lies they try to burn me with by sending/telling me news, about what a great poet I am. And for some disclosed amount of $ & ¢ worth of money, I can have a trinket, to show just that... Costly bragging rights, if you will? That they will, willingly send to me, at my expense! And in doing so, they, try to make me, feel, as if I am a part of their elitist society. I saw right through their deceptive wall of cooperate bullshit write from day two... i.e. Fool me once, shine on you!
And we all sham on.
Or
Shame on your crazy diamond...
I am proud to say, that they, (poetry.com and their many other entities!) have never got more than the cost of a postage stamp (before the INTERNET days.) from me. But there are others, I have known, including family, who were not so prudent, as not to fall into their foolish fooling trap for fools...
Well these Be-I monthly works are my free bragging rights!
And here, is one of them now! You will notice, I slip in, up and down messages!
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Mother's Drool
Poverty stricken pretties wrought iron skills
Ovaries hell bent on overproducing Mature XXX
E- themes to gentlemen of an indigent society
Taxation under imagination seeds the fruit of
Ripe originality within a try part is son for
Yum Kipper a ball meshed of steel forgiveness
... i.e. FOAD for co-poor at vanquished trans...
Continental brakes fast for a dry white toast
Of sham pain taste that lingers in the wastes
Maternalistic lashes whips of flight and flail
Suffering Succotash made of two-motto's seldom
Unknown to the elders of a democratic tankard
Commonplace among aristocratic abstractors of
Killing fields with paraquat laced enhancers!
Silent Dancers mime signs of misappropriation
Diligent fun attempted in timeless continuum!
I will speak plan English on these last floor or
Clive lines. As you are a deceptive vanity press!
Kissing but not lubricating, you disintegrated
Saliva, and I spit a wad of it back for you to suck
evilC
Copyright ©2005 evilC |
From poetry.com
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January 03 Revised Again
Cool Guyz Goddess
By Clive aka evilC yB
John was a pretty cool guy
I used to think, Hey! So am I...
But any more I just don't know?
Hey! There goes Joe, He will always be cool! I say: "Hey Joe! How are things going man?" Joe says: "It's cool man, it's cool..." See! I told you!
It seems as if in these latter days,
My coolness is vanishing in the haze...
I have been Knocking at the door of death it self,
Knock, knock, knock... "Come on man it's me, 'evilC', answer the fucking door"
"Evil Who?"
"It's me man, evilC, E. V. I. L. C." Knock, knock, mOTHER fUCKING kNOCK already "Come on man, answer your God Damned Mother Fucking Door"
"Evil’s not here"
Knock, knock. "No I am evilC you idiot"
"WHO?"
And it is really quite amazing,
You get the picture! Nobody is answering...
You know, like I was expecting like the hand of doom or something? To open up his God Damned door and whip me in with his shit-hook looking sickle  My cell is anemic and mobile.
Bulimia Nervosa, Everyone is getting on the bored thin train and then pulling down the barf bag on Des Plaines... Look Boss! How many times do I have to tell you? But I've got the crystal ball...
I just lay on the bed with the TV on and stare at the ceiling. Oh how! I beg for death to come and get me. When I do eat and try to make myself puke, I can't vomit no matter how hard I try. So it’s back to bed and ceiling. Ceilings, nothing more ceilings, trying to forfeit my, ceilings above... Oh I wish this feeling would stop, go away, I want to go home...
I know especially for the feminine, of the species. Auditory sensations and not looking back seem to be the norm for em'. You know? Like they just took some metaphysical crap ___ I mean... Class... For six months and 1500 Simoleons, (You know. Those people from Bill Gates Northwest, Not only make promises they don’t keep, and products they can’t stand behind... Their also out stomping on their Semillon Grapes of Wrath, for a mere 5 clams a bottle. They must have some serious esteem and self worth issues? Hell as dead as I feel, and wish I was...
I am Clive!
And I still wouldn't give up even one of me, for a PhD... Well Maybe 1? But what a sacrifice!) they get a PhD! (And then call them selves Dr.) Dr. Please. That takes the average man of any accredited color 8-10 years. And then, when, say its been, maybe a month since you last talked to them... And you, (And By you, I mean me!) want to talk... So you call! And they, (And By they, I mean she or her) say that: "They have changed so much that they are not the same person anymore." I could go along with that, if they changed the m to n, in-same.
During her brief but extensive study, she was kind of excited once. (That was probably the problem? Everyone needs a little excitement in their life.) She told me that one of the deaf ears listening... No I mean! Definitions of "Metaphysics", or "Metaphysical", was: "If you believe in (Peter Pan) it, then it is there, and if you don't, then it is not." I immediately come back with: (instead of thinking about her feelings and ceilings and nothing more than ceilings trying to forget my ceilings above 1st). "Well you had better get a good Mal Practice policy then!" It seemed logical! If she was going to use this new film flam degree to practice New Age Medicine... And all of the sudden one of her patients changed their mind into not believing.
I had better not go and tie one on!
Don't you have the same DNA for the duration?
Or
Is there some proclamation?
That you can Emancipate yourself from when you Decide that you are completely Different?
I have always been Different!
So Just when I thought I was at my lowest low,
And
Crossing the Threshold to hell below...
I began to hear things...
Demons maybe?
Coming to get me, because that dumb ass death dude was just to fucking lazy to open his door of doom, and come get my tired and sorry ass out of bed...
No Shit!
There have been real, honest to goodness voices! I used to joke about these said voices, to some of my friends, regarding my step-Mother hearing them... As I did not believe they actually existed.
These voices I hear don't tell me to do things like kill myself...
No...
Instead They Make me wish for death... Just like I have been all along. But now, its even more irritating, annoying, and down right bothersome. Leaving me agitated and troubled to the point of teetering on the other side of the hallucinatory line.
And I don’t have friends to joke with Anymore.
Because it is not funny.
I am so lonely...
And the happy and or understanding Life that these voices live... Belong to actual living people, that I know and Love... But whom do not Necessarily
RECIPROCATE
So after trying to be dead, To no avail
Maybe I need a date?
Or
To get hit on the head with some hail...
Basketball size, And the diaries of,
Mr. Jim Carroll
The Catholic Boy; 
Who, With no friends either!
Why?
Because they all died!
Died!
I too shot up at a very young age,
And I don't mean like a weed...
Although that is the seed, I used to plant.
Even though it is supposed to grow wild!
That is kind of what I have done...
And all of that used to seem so beat and cool!
Nothing more than a damned fool...
Day after day, alone on a hill, I haven’t got a cute little grin, but I got plenty fucking of bills...
 None of which are getting paid,
And it all seems, Just Because I'm not getting laid...
So if they’re really is a cool guyz goddess?
Out there somewhere, anywhere...
There sure are a lot of us, Who are real...
We just want, and need our prayers answered.
For me, us, and them,
I say all these things as I humble myself on bended knees,
Amen.
So we can be, just who we will be.
K say raw, can you say raw?
May we want To Be
And or
Not, not to Be
So there is no question
And Again,
A-Men.
Let me say it again my friends!
There are a lot of us X-cool Guyz,
Who really want and need our Cool Guys Goddesses!
So then we too, Can Be Cool Guy Gods to you!
A-men,
No more agains!
The end.
Ah ha ha!
Fooling you babe, and ohhh ohhhh ohhh, where ever we go! You got my hands tied,
By the wings of Love.
And above in the night,
The light from the heavens,
Reflected,
And the sight Of a Cool Guyz Goddess, with her Cool Guy God By her side, as they reign ore' Their World, so troubled and free...
Stepping into the platinum Chariot of the Gods on fire, riding down the streets paved with gold, oh what a sight to behold, as they were invisible, invincible too!
Deciding what to do, about,
This middle aged man who had his prayer heard,
Cool Guy God's favorite bird had landed on his finger, trotted up his arm, to rest on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. "What?" as he dipped his head and raised his hand to hear. "Oh ho ho ho yeah! That’s a good one my little friend" and then, to bend the other way, to face his Cool Guyz Goddess, he does say."_" She nods and winks as they embrace in a kiss, that opens the skies...
Lightning bolts fly and strike.
Thunder roars simultaneously with blinding bluish white light...
Not long after the gift was given, all of the girls who were livin'.
Could be, a Cool Guyz Goddess to me,
And for all of you others, that were heard in my prayer too!
But I see that it could be an eternity,
before it actually happens for me,
since they did not drop her here naked, by parachute, right into my lap...
But I think as the clouds clear, so will my mind?
And then I will find, that Cool Guyz Goddess, tailor made for me!
Fuck you!
You dumb ass Death Dude, with your shit-hook looking sickle, you had your chance and you blew it...
"Who?"
Bill Gates! The little Children of Tobias, Nebraska, still don’t have a computer at their educational disposal, in the local library…
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Notice: Microsoft has no responsibility for the content featured in this Prayer, or thee answer to it. And as far as the computer for your local library is concerned. Your "Village" must exceed the population of one hundred to even be considered! Not to mention the fact, that it should also be open to the public, for more than 4 hours per week. And further more... If you do not stop with these slanderous allegations and innuendoes, there is going to be another law suite flying in your windows!
microsoft out...
Of
HARD MACROS...
P.S. Microsoft will also give no merit or recognition to evilC's pride in his correspondence and relationship with world renowned Poet/Singer/Song Writer Mr. Jim Carroll, as we here at microsoft with our own so tiny little dick up our own ass we can't even feel it, know for a fact that Jim doesn't even have internet access yet! If and when he ever does we may change our position and easily pull what we can't feel
OUT! | | |
 December 28 
Appended to: 
By The Good & evilC Reverend 'el ALonezo D' Olly (hand cart Hollywood John Stanley Tool in the Box) Lama Damn ah Ding Dong Clive Daloveuo /&\ I O U back, front and sometimes with that sideways twist of fated ill Why? I'll Never Know? AKA the Pitiful wizard of x-con x-mas Coz times y = Christmas 2000 and Clive! Twas' a seasonal affective disordered, to have been jolly Fa la la la la The Law fought L.A. Women Painted in Black... And Won! But I felt just like Buddy Holly,  Ann  Beat (the) Rice whack! (Now The Keeper of The) Knee-Brass-Key (Of which I am) To0-Bias out of the Blood Sucking Vampires... Where she left her anti- and sub-cultured, hanging and hating the love, just as the same as it ever Twas a night before her New Cared for actor, Christ was born! And How I almost fell like  Lenny Bruce too! Lenny Bruce too, Lenny Bruce you too... Are DEAD! ALL DEAD! Well All But Ann and Batman & The Power of Robin Trower and Jack Bruce who two = Truce 
And Truth Baby Truth
Yeah Truce... and a Baby Ruth  Baby! Yeah Baby!
Truth Baby Truth... Helps me make it through the fright and sometimes instigates it!
And so, ah, how does it feel? Ah... Like a Rolling Stone? (Brian  or Keith?  Who's left  only to know what it's like to be the sad moon  behind goo  goo drool eyes and to look like he met with the  's skunk bud of the  . What a target to be shot for!  And so this is Christmas! Happy Birthday 3.42 hungry mouths early Jesus, and three days to late long leggs running in the quarter century marathon.) No moss tequila (Sammy  Hagar! Who is still AClive and red-rockin' 'em {Looks all yellow with the boiling sun screen of # 212 on to me!} Down at the Cabo Wabo where you can we bowl {It's family fun for every one!} and you can wobble, and you can fall right the fuck down on your cum punch drunk ass face! No mace needed like dough! Money, money, money... MONEY! No shopping days left until Christmas.) Or a wah wah, you know that old song By-George,  My fav of the fab 4, Isn't it a pity, to Give me Love, when all things must pass The most creative of the clan, feels somewhat less, or more of a man, And is somewhat more or less of a man. In no direction do you go... So its back to "Ho! Ho! Whoa, Mother Fucker!" Santa Claus  is Sad that he's Dead too! He's been kept aClive by you and you! But not by me evilC, I broke the news to my younger sister years before she died, and she's resented my truth telling ass ever since! You think that's bad wait till you get to our gay Mommy's! The yo yo man (Who of course is Tommy  Smothers, he dated my  Mothers, all 4 of us attended the same high  school! Yeah sure he can walk the Dog, and he can rock/rob the craddle... Butt when it came to going around the World, he must have left a little less than to be desired? So all I ask is: Don't ask me: "Who's your Daddy? I hate being put on the Chis Cross mass spot!) And Steely  Dan are knockin' em' dead killin' em' I beg your Dolly Pardon Warden I never promised you a rose garden... But the Landscaping Boss made me plant it anyway! So is Bob  Dylan! He's thrillin' em' Well its Christmas Time I believe! Oh Lord I believe! Like you wouldn't beleive... Born are the Sinners, Born are the Losers, Born are the Boozers... Haters too from I've heard? Everyone suffers and feels pain, Others are selfish with Capitol Gain, "Ain't that a Shame" (Fats  Domino said that) Who's yer Daddy? Hey! I thought I asked you not to ask me that... Merry X-MAS "can u see the light" ( Jeff  Heally said that) "Yes, this is it, I give of myself, and there is so much more I bring Christmas to your back-door Ooh! Baby it makes me really, really sore! I mean it nicely, soaring in Reality!" and if you guessed that I  said that? Your right mother fucker! Yeah Buddy!  Or is that Billie (Club) Holiday  syndrome? Beating the bum out of the those who bummed out on the bummer of world the that is a ghetto, just throw your voice like a ventrilocricketquist, rub your leggs together, and say: "that'll be the day, when I die!" But for no laughing gray matter of what you have between those funky ass ears. where have the years that brought those corns gone? Or where you go... Your blessing is so, Sometimes hard to evilC... But always! And I repeat! Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to one of the many shows on this earth! Less the skinny girth... (As I don't know how gentle any of you men actually are, And I don't really give a rats fucking Christmas ass either! But ladies... If you ever get the chance to be with me, I hope you are a pretty gentle sea of waves crashing on my rocky shores... I am no womanizing misogynist only wanting my own massaged... Let me just say: I have had literally hundreds of you honey's to this day, and only turned one gay... That was my X-wife and her pussy stunk anyway! Not like my Dad who if I knew who he was, I could say, has at least two he turned from the hetero hitting way!) Count your many Christ-messy blessings that are always there to be! Merry Christmas babe it ain't me... "Oh no no no!" It ain't Me Your Looking for in 2000 and Fore  heads up! evilCoz you'd be a year late and a grand hell oh short... Merry Christmas 2000 and Clive! Remember this: No matter how good or bad you have it, there is always somebody, who has it better or worse, Unless you are the best or the worst, in which case, I'm sorry, or X-Con grad you S.A.D. ass mother fuckin' greetings and salutations... Later Or, in other words, do what I have made a Christmas tradition out of doing! If you have it in you, that is? And that is: When your through with your family and friends. (if you have any that is?) Seek out one, (A Stranger, that is) who is obviously less fortunate than yourself, (Sometimes, in my case, that is a hard find! Usually I roam the skid row gutters, or go under the bridges.) And do something, or give something, of yourself, from your heart, that will truly make that person in some way have fell better than a push, Sorry, I mean I'm nice, and feel them better, and be better... Do it not for you, but for them... A true sacrifice... Tis' the Season to be Jolly But I feel just like Buddy Holly DEAD! Rock bottom Notice: Microsoft has no real Christmas Greetings to send... But remember this: If your INTERNET surfing on this False birthday Celebrated for the Baby Jesus who was actually born in a Spring Manger. Today has been newly marked the day that the most viruses, and worms have been sent and spread, as will as the most major infrastructures been hacked into through open back doors... Not to worry though... We'll make, Patches, I'm depending on you son! |
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November 08 Why?
By Clive xxx evilC yB
Dedicated to Stellar's loss of Star!
Let me tell you about an epic epidemic that penetrated a stellar wall into the heart of the sky!
He was a guy he didn't fly except when he flew like a bird away from you...
Dreams of distant family in immediacy awoke in a mess,
You detest cleaning house is what you do,
Why?
Can't you clean you!
Can't you clean you!
Can't you clean you!
"Why"
Can't I clean I?
Aberrations amputations severed limbs from the tree of life!
Showered with the flowers by the powers of the wind from a fresh dug grave...
How can pieces rest in peace incomplete is what I have to say as I Pray summoning good will to land.
Hovering crafts covering the masses of the common man under hierarchies blessed band of gypsies whose to say:
Why?
Can't you clean you!
Can't you clean you?
Can't you clean you!
"Why"
Can't I clean I?
Epidermals humming in the urinals numbing the thick kiln skin of porcelain cracked white & hard!
Water in the yard with a shard of your soul that plugged the hole of extreme...
Mediocrity to some is bliss to me is hit and miss of high and low,
Pile shag carpet bagger Stellars' Star fur still flies,
Why?
Can't you clean you!
Can't you clean you!
Can't you clean you!
"Why"
Can't I clean I?
November 04 I Just wrote this one a year and Clive Days ago! For the Mondays at 7:00 pm Crescent Moon Reading Series. But could not bring myself to leave my non-heated house. It's a rough draft Raymond Burr. I have about 200 more verses roaming around in my head.
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What a Fucked Up Old World (Part 1)
Written By evilC with the Lyrical and Musical Inspiration
Of
George David Weiss and Bob Thiele
Best performed by
Louis Armstrong
or
Nat King Cole
Or
Rod Stewart
or
evilC himself!
I evilC political  parties, Campaign  trails, Purple  Hearts, Yellow  cowardly veils,  Green  Berets, and red rivers of  blood rushing too
I evilC them rush, right through your veins of blue 
an ewe is a female sheep, man this is getting deep (No Animal Porn here!)
And
I think to Myself What a fucked up old world
Yeah I think to myself what a fucked up old world
I evilC a New World Order, Genocide, riptide, Waves crashing on this land, like a suicide bomber plane  with a master plan...
I wonder was it a Cheney Bush Quayle named Dick, George, or Dan?
Or did Usama bin Laden act alone?
I evil Hear a  Johnny Cash "Ring 'O' Fire"  ring tone on the phone! 
And
I think to Myself What a fucked up old world
Yeah I think to myself what a fucked up old world
I evilC Jeffery Dahmer, 
He don't need no embalmer,
justice deep freeze,
down on his knees,
cleaning a toilet with  his tongue, And a gumby broomstick becomes one with his dung. 
Or maybe just a doral enema for one
*Talking*
(Now thats just about as close to a disaster for the poetaster as your going to get! Or Poetic Just Us in Them) ha ha!
And
I think to Myself What a fucked up old world
Yeah I think to myself what a fucked up old world
I evilC a cane of wood, carved into a snake, 
No dam beaver to prey, or Mongoose to say,
If you turn it upside down, like a frown, it becomes a  hang in there man, noose,
or given sideways twist, a shit  hook for Bullwinkle J.  Moose
as well as Don  Knotts too!
Like the evilC Dead, This really rots, Boo! Who? It's all decay
what can I say?
But
I still think to Myself
What a fucked up old world 
Yeah I think to myself what a fucked up old world
Fuckin' Beautiful Ain't it? |
evilCnonClive October 11
The War of the Words
By Clive
Bus Top it blows over my umbrella
One world it grows just like Bush and Godzilla
All day long I hear this song
Infuriated by tunnel vision
We will never come as one
Until we learn the art of pissin'
All the while both sides rub together their greedy little power mongering mitts
They'll even create their own tragedy complete with Home Land Security kits
(For a nominally extravagant fee!)
We're a world at war with a word!
Fucking Dictionaries
I don't even like to read
Why should I be forced to heed
I have this need to believe
That there really are evil people
Lurking behind this word
And the word is turd
Ta ta ta turd turd turd Baby turd is the word!
BRB
Back!
I had to shit!
So as I see it...
We just need to ban a few words!
Taliban: ban towels, fuck it! I am willing to drip dry! Ya can't say I'm not willing to pick my Napoleon Bonaparte! And should there be some kind problem with the sex offender registry, and any other terrorists or threatening dregs of society: I say ban them too...
To
Tallahatchie:
And
Tallahassee: They both got bridges, and one of em' even has hurricanes!
Hey! I wonder if I can just register as a sex offender?
I'm offended when I'm not getting any sex! (Occasionally, even when I am!)
Maybe I just need to get away from all of these offendee's (They're offending in their own right!)
If there's not enough room in those two Talla's banned, send em' off to:
Kalamazoo, and make them play a kazoo!
That should cheer up they're down right nasty disposition!
Turd ban: That's right folks we should ban turds too!
Not spend Millions, and Billions, and Trillions, and quadrillions, and quintillions, and sexillions, <<< (Hey! There's that offending sex word again!) and, septillions, <<<(Well what do you know about that? I just wonder if that is for the many reptiles caught by the sewers of summers end! To bad they don't all have they're own $400 cage!) and octillions, and (I think the non, says it all here folks, and it makes me ill.)>>> nonillions,
of dollars that we don't even have!
On Safety, and Security!
Hell is here, the reason for fear.
We'll never be completely safe, and secure,
Not on this world,
Not in our lifetime,
Although It's a brilliant, almost altruistic concept.
Spiraling headlong into an economic dilemma, that is already beyond our means,
And will soon be out of our control,
Period.
But thats not quit the end of the story!
Then there will be A War of the Words...
It won't be with aliens we don't understand,
Trying to take over our misbegotten land,
Bedlam, and Mayhem, Violence on the street,
You'll wish you learned how to sew, bleed out, and gut your own fucking meat.
Natural Cold Storage caves would be nice!
If your old, with the ways, and the means,
Might hop in one of them cryonic machines! (I've heard when tear drops fall on the infected fish, it's like ham, curred!) cry-on-ick
Hmmm a cryogenic drunken state? (On the other frozen alcoholic hand, I can imagine how that batch might be a little salty, and taste less than desirable...) cry-oh-gin-icky
Oh the humanity of it all... No doubt, it is disregarded, and in despair
Did anybody anywhere ever say everything, and or even anything is going to be fair?
I dare to say never! If they did, I think you'd agree? They lied...
I used to be able to afford to go the State Fair, every day it was there
Now, not only can I not afford to go to the State Fair,
The State can't even afford to present it's own fair anymore
So the Fair ain't even there...
That's not fair.
I used to go to happy parades
I even had a rich girlfriend that lived in the Pacific Palisades
Those where some fun loving times!
The floor, the floor, the floor is in the air
The floor, the floor, the floor is in the air
We don't need no gravity, let the Mother Fucker float
Float Mother Fucker Float
The Power of levitation is mainly regarded as an out of body experience
Just as the insanes on the plains are dependent on their minds...
...Brilliance
(I'll bet you thought I was going to say brains?)
You ever notice how their heads tilt to one side?
Heavy Brains Man... Heavy asymmetrical Brains!
(There I said brains)
There is not much symmetry in retardation (Where is the justice, and equality?)
It's a shame really!
If you develop the aforementioned condition, and don't want others to figure it out...
Just start banging either side of your head
It doesn't matter which
Then claim that you have just finished swimming
And
Have Mark Spitz ear
A real deafening touch would be, if you actually have one Mark Spitz's ears in your pocket, and pull it out!
It's a mother fuckin' tour de' France out there I'm tellin' ya!
Lance Armstrong (If I had to have an arm lanced, I would want it to be my weak one!)
Indianapolis 500 too...
David Letterman (I don't know? But since this is a war waged on words. I'm thinking, since this guy is a letter man and all, he should probably just be banned on GP!)
Tony the Mother Fuckin' Tiger is Grrrrrrowling in Grrrrrrrrrreatness
Just like a rice crispy treated pop pop pop tart fated martians to lesbians
Quisp vs. Quake, Count Chocula vs. Boo Berry and tinkerbell waves her wand to let the games begin...
Who's gonna win though?
Isn't all just a Monopoly reboot to present an illusion of compitition?
Do Not Pass Go!
Will the world succumb to our forcefully imposed one world full of love, freedom, and devotion? (Don't forget patriotism!)
Do Not Collect $200
Or
Will Armenia (Our mean e-ah, not, Our nice e-ah) flirt with disaster, and be the first Christian domino to fall into the strong lanced nudging arms of the witnessing watchtowers Armageddon?
Or
Go Directly to
Good Will Hunting the new Macy's line of turbans start coming out like vests? (Bullet Proof)
Jail
You know this war on Iraq thing has really put a dent in my love for titties!
And that's not very nice!
I used to love them soooo mush!
What's Next? China and cream of rice...
Independence is a not much more than a farce
Because in reality, it is really ever so sparse
But for those masses who do
I tip my hat to you
I'll watch your fire works
And gaze in wide wonder at your celebration
Of the Independence you claim from your minds
For I am a dying breed
And
Must depend on mine...
Don't get me wrong you middle, middle-lower & upper-middle incumbent class republicans (Let me just say, that I have nothing against you, nothing at all! Unless perhaps, I have listened to you, and your only one-way, then you say, you have nothing more to say! Which is fine, but then, when you won't even listen to one, of my 9, that is when, I start having a hard time!)
Your good hard working class heroes!
And maybe the few like me, aren't much more than zeros?
Using the advantages we still have,
But for how much longer?
Does it make us that much stronger?
When they come door to door asking ^(Yeah Right)^ Demanding your gun!
In the name freedom, safety, and homeland security (Suck curity<<< That's one of them hams that got fucked up in that barrel!)
Are you going to hand it over willingly with no problem? (Like if you do present some kind of problem, they'll just go away, and leave you alone! ha!)
I say: Give the Shade, and I your guns, and stuff
We got better hiding places than you do!
I would hate to evilC good guns, and stuff go to waste!
If for some reason you don't understand
I'm not in a state of being shell-shocked
(My next appointment isn't until the sexth thirstday of the mouth!)
I could spell it out
Which would only strengthen my point
Then if you got it, you'd say: You Rocked!
I'd say: Thank you! But where's my titties?
And then drop dead
Bus Top it blows over my umbrella
One world it grows just like Bush and Godzilla
All day long I hear this song
Infuriated by tunnel vision
We will never come as one
Until we learn the art of listen
Thank You!
(This is my big dramatic death scene)
Coughs profusely, and croaks...
**applauds**
From a dillweed that made claimes of fathoming the unfathomable when he really didn't get shit...
From a pretty flat chested fanfare out standing ovation
 CLIVE! YOU JUST ROCKED! 
Thank you! But where's my titties?
Coughs profusely, and croaks...
Rib it September 26
18 Line ExtravaStanza +
By Clive
1 From behind one of my black and white keys
2 I try two times, to unlock our dark and light weez
3 More remaining doors separate our strange days faces
4 Our fore armored pockets have a blinding variety of maces
5 Clive overkills five rhymes, in the dark lore of the hideous Medusa
6 He suggests six doses of LSD25, heatstroke, and Ozzmozis at Lollapalooza
7 Godsmack's the Sevendust warnings of Jesus & Mary Chain 7 Mary 3 in a fantasy
8 My curiosity at eight, ate the best of me, but now my fate is here, to shake the rest of me
9 Reasons I don't fear, to reap her front, from her rear, are the whisk keys, not the King Lear leer, or the near beer jeer, still, distilled teardrops fall... I could go into more reasons, for the fun, I try to have for more than my one! But I'll protect her just right sized buns, from all of your low bust light despised puns... Whether she needs it or not, she is already tied in a knot... And I love her so
10 Psychedelic property lines, bordering grand am illusions, apparent transparent degradation, in summation of this metric line, the net trick I'm trying to pull off, will fix lumps in the spine, and in real life is no sheepish wool cough, slick hill hicks pumps kin on the sublime, yeah the met chick, I want to meet, is complete, even when two ate teen in existential constipation... Alleviate yer yoyo
11 Lynchburg ten is not a suicidal let us pray see! It's my eleven evilC I's, that hear your cries
12² x 10³ = How many there is, was, and will be! Hallows be seen, above gross goodbyes
13 Stoner's Rule Strictly Commercial M past, since sinsemilla 420, earth day will last
14 Hearts club band Gypsy's four decades Pink crazy diamond joker 7n7 blast
15 Reverse is 51 miles to Orme from JD is stellar re;dreams thrown things
16 Vandals stole virginity wonders innocence in youth promise rings
17 Persona's take over one to lock up in paranoias rub her room
18 keys tried chastity seems impure lock secure until doom
Logistics Evaluation And Review
L ow Energy Antiproton Ring (With this ring I thee wed, As Lazy as a buttsloth from my bed, I am an Uncle, and the new New Tron guy! I am much thinner though! Not having the motivation to eat.)
From the seat of my ebony, and ivory organ (What are you an octoroon?) mic all please!
Yes even the monkey drums!
Friends
Friends
Just testing friends
Friends
There's a Rage in the cage,
With the testing of a friend
Makes that test a sure fire end
It's to bad you know it could've really lasted
forever...
But a friend sold it short, now it's blasted
& severed
Pried apart, separated like oil & water
And the one with the friend testing site
So eager, rambunctious, and ready to fight
At the drop of a hat
She'll show ya where your at
It's all charted
Stars bombarded
From the eyes
Of some olden guys
That's where it started
And they're turning backs
Just like the toy in the Cracker Jacks
Friends
Friends
Just testing friends
Friends
Friends
Just testing friends
Friends
Friends
While the clouds are in the sky
I wander about, and cry
Not just for me,
But for others too you see
Does it really matter who doesn't understand?
Even if it's you, and me who just can't land!
Oh man your like a sign & just don't let it
Go ran or mic a lion & lust won't get shit
You got to have love, respect, and courtesy
To feel what it's like to be a friend
Sex doesn't matter oh but sure it does
You can't always just bitch, and blame
And not expect some of the same
You say ya got no friends
Because you like it that way
People are just stupid pretends
You know what the say
You can't live in this world all by yourself
But you sure can try
Your loss makes me cry
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