That one poem

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Current revision as of 03:36, 1 February 2008

Once upon a midnight stormy, while I web-surfed, drunk and horny, Over many a stripped and daring banner of forgotten porn While I nodded, quickly fapping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone loudly rapping... rapping at my bedroom door "Tis just Bimbo," I muttered, "Go away you filthy whore! Get thine self, from my door!"

Ah, so glad I wasn't sober, this here being late October, And the light from my computer wrought a pattern on the floor. Eagerly I wished for loading; veins inside me sought exploding And my patience was eroding... eroding for the 'Lost Monroe' For the rare and radiant actress whom had renamed as Monroe... Currently began to load.

Then a sudden shot uncertain escaped my grasp and hit my curtain Thrilled me, filled me with emotion that which I had felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating "Who's your daddy, sweet thing? Who's your daddy, little whore? I'm your daddy, that's who, sweet thing! Now get thine sweet ass off my floor!" This I said and nothing more.

Presently turned on no longer, my curiousity grew stronger; "Bimbo," said I, "or, is it Dave, what brings you here to my door? Didn't you hear that I was fapping, when so loudly you came tapping, And so loudly you came rapping... rapping at my bedroom door, That I knew for sure I heard you" - here I opened wide my door: Empty hallway. Nothing more.

Deep into that hallway staring, long I stood there silent swearing, Cursing, plotting and comparing, never daring into it go; But the silence was unbroken, in the hallway, no words spoken, So I turned the door left open, to the loading 'Lost Monroe.'. This I whispered, to the image, "I've been drinking, leave me alone." Then I added, "Make it so."

Then into my chair returning, all the hormones in me burning. Then again I heard a churning even louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely there is someone out my window; Let me see, then, if it's Bimbo, playing games and nothing more. Let my heart be still and tip-toe, with this bucket I will pour, Onto Bimbo. Even score."

Open here I threw the shutter, when, with many flirt and flutter, In there flew a stately Faery of the magic days of yore. Not the least respect she showed me; nor an instant stopped or stayed she; But, with grace of lord or lady, perched atop my monitor. Perched upon my screen of Packard, just above my web-surf porn. Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this faery soon beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the small and skimpy dressing of the outfit that she wore, "Though thy chest be small and cherry, thou," I said, "are not so scary, Just a cute and ancient Faery wandering from the magic glow. Tell me if thou came to treat me, like the Pfil of which I know!" Quoth the Faery, "Baka yo!"

Much I oggled this small faery and to hear her speak so clearly, Though her answer showed no meaning... little relevancy, show; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Such as I was blessed with seeing Faery atop computer glow, Ever yet was blessed with hearing half-naked faery, such a show, Speak such phrase as "Baka yo."

But the Faery, sitting lonely on my monitor, spoke only Those two words, as if her soul in that one phrase she did bestow. Nothing further did she stammer; when she procured a large hammer, Till I spoke up lack enamor, "Other friends have flown you know. In the morning you will leave me, as my Hopes do always go." Then she spoke up, "Baka yo!"

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Pity," said I, "what you mention is the only phrase you know. Caught by some ungrateful bastard, whom I'm sure had claimed your master Forced to copy ever faster till his song is now your woe; Till the tortures of his force the melancholy burden flow; Of "Baka... baka yo."

But the Faery still entreating me to smile at this chance meeting, Straight I wheeled my cushioned chair in front of Faery and the glow; Then, upon a quick rethinking, I returned myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking give this faery a quick Pfil show! Show this slim and sexy faery how to do things like a pro. Teach her more than, "Baka yo."

There I sat engaged in browsing, with the Faery, still arousing. To the site with faery rousing saved into my normal flow; This and more I sat reloading, with a pain unknown foreboding On my monitor to which the faery stayed as if now home, But whose precious hammer slamming with great force into my skull, She hath swung it, this I know!

Then, methought, as I grew sore, and layed there sprawled out on the floor, Swung by Faery magic whose foot-falls tinkled ever more. "Wretch," I cried,"thy Hell hath sent thee, to my room where thou hast met me To spite... to smite and sever from my images of Monroe! Please, oh please my kind Faery, and forget this 'Lost Monroe'!" Again she struck me, "Baka yo!"

"Stop it!" said I, "Wings of evil! Prophet still, if friend of devil! With a temper sent for tempting, tempest tossed thee to my home, Dressed half set and yet undaunted, to this crime for which I'm wanted, In this home of assets flaunted... tell me truly, I must know! Is there pennance I can bestow? Tell me! Tell me, I must know!" Swung the Faery, "Baka yo!"

"Harlot!" said I, "Tempting demon! All this over released semen?! Place your hammer that does strike me, to the side that I may show; That this soul with sorrow laden, just requires a decent maiden, If that's too much to display then take away my fair Monroe! Take my pr0n and make thy way then, from this home so wrought with woe." No hesitation, "Baka yo!"

"Make that phrase our sign of parting, Faery fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting. Yet she swung unto my temple and more night's pain she did bestow! With no reason for this deed, again she struck to make me bleed! "Please my bones, leave unbroken! Quit this pain, please to go! Take thy mallet from off my head, and take thy self from out my home!" Swung the Faery, "Baka yo!"

And the Faery, isn't flitting, once more sitting... evil grinning On the glowing screen of Packard just above the 'Lost Monroe'; And her eyes that never waver peer at me with such disfavor, And then comes on my pr0n screen saver, to which the Faery sets to throw; And my soul from in the corner cringes for it's time to go... Down swoops the Faery, "BAKA YO!"

The fusion of Edgar Allan Poe and Michael Poe, written by BiShouNenKaMi, 10-26-2001.

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