Ask the person below you a question (2)
applepie77
Forum Posts: 1040
Fire of Insight
1
Joined 4th Feb 2015Forum Posts: 1040
....to protect us from evil????
Why are American cars rarely seen on European streets??
Why are American cars rarely seen on European streets??
lepperochan
Craic-Dealer
Forum Posts: 14449
Craic-Dealer
Guardian of Shadows
67
Joined 1st Apr 2011Forum Posts: 14449
its cos the cold war has turned into a threat of war, the tanks were paraded through eastern europe some months ago, there were ones of people linning streets to wave little flags and welcome the yank army to the front line ...or Latvia as it was previously called. there's a shit load of fighter jets in Poland too. five years down the line we could all be in a warzone. less than that if Putin looses his influence in Russia
if you had one free kill. one person, no comeback or nightmares. would you use it ? if yes, how would you decide who to snuff out
if you had one free kill. one person, no comeback or nightmares. would you use it ? if yes, how would you decide who to snuff out
Anonymous
I wouldn't use it...I can't think of anyone Id wanna kill
when did you decide to be Irish?
when did you decide to be Irish?
lepperochan
Craic-Dealer
Forum Posts: 14449
Craic-Dealer
Guardian of Shadows
67
Joined 1st Apr 2011Forum Posts: 14449
I think it was when I saw the Guinness advert in the late seventies. there were litlle people and all sorts of craic going on. I sent away my application there and then. ...fingers crossed I'm accepted
why do you look so angry ?
why do you look so angry ?
Anonymous
my Irish application didn't get accepted.
last poem you read?
last poem you read?
Anonymous
Wanting To Die
by
Anne Sexton
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the most unnameable lust returns.
Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention
the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.
Twice I have so simply declared myself
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.
In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.
I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.
Still-born, they don't always die,
but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.
To thrust all that life under your tongue! --
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death's a sad bone; bruised, you'd say,
and yet she waits for me, year and year,
to so delicately undo an old would,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.
Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit, a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,
leaving the page of a book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love, whatever it was, an infection
do you think its any good?
by
Anne Sexton
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the most unnameable lust returns.
Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention
the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.
Twice I have so simply declared myself
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.
In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.
I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.
Still-born, they don't always die,
but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.
To thrust all that life under your tongue! --
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death's a sad bone; bruised, you'd say,
and yet she waits for me, year and year,
to so delicately undo an old would,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.
Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit, a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,
leaving the page of a book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love, whatever it was, an infection
do you think its any good?
Anonymous
I love that poem. I love Anne Sexton. I have a massive anthology of all of her works. It's very well thumbed.
When's the last time you were embarrassed?
When's the last time you were embarrassed?
Anonymous
About an hour ago, when my wife calls my phone her ring is,"All of Me" and the whole class heard it and called me out, Hey I love my wife. Just dumb not to turn the ringer down,
what is the scariest thing you have experienced?
what is the scariest thing you have experienced?
Anonymous
I am frightened to death of flying. I mean like shitting my pants scared of aeroplanes. So much so, I even get a shit on when we have to drive past the airport, even when we aren't flying. Even if I see a plane on the telly, or hear one fly over, I get sweaty palms. I was flying back from Amsterdam a few years back, and I had the mother of all panic attacks. I've never felt anything like it. I didn't want anybody touching me, I thought I was gonna fall out, I felt like the walls were closing in, I hyperventilated, cried, the works. That was the worst panic attack I've ever had. I've since flown to Paris, and Ireland, and it took every ounce of mental strength I have. I still shake real bad. So yeah, I'm not a good travel companion
When was the last time you said thank you to somebody?
When was the last time you said thank you to somebody?
anonymouslyhere
Pariah Shadow
Forum Posts: 1633
Pariah Shadow
Dangerous Mind
5
Joined 31st Oct 2013Forum Posts: 1633
A few minuets ago.
Is your life exciting?
Is your life exciting?
Anonymous
yes, a different times,not every second,
do you give to beggars?
do you give to beggars?
Anonymous
yes, because I've been one before
which birthday so far has been your worst?
which birthday so far has been your worst?
Anonymous
Wow, everyone is a blessing no bad ones,
what holiday is your favorite?
what holiday is your favorite?
Fallen_Angel_194
Angel.
Forum Posts: 318
Angel.
Thought Provoker
5
Joined 24th May 2014 Forum Posts: 318
Christmas
Because I get to go up to New york to see my Family.
What's The Last Poem you read
Because I get to go up to New york to see my Family.
What's The Last Poem you read
Anonymous
Black Oaks by Mary Oliver
Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary,
or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance
and comfort.
Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays
carp and whistle all day in the branches, without
the push of the wind.
But to tell the truth after a while I'm pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled with lichen
and you can't keep me from the woods, from the tonnage
of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.
Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours, a
little sunshine, a little rain.
Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another -- why don't you get going?
For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.
And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money,
I don't even want to come in out of the rain.
Last song you listened to?
Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary,
or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance
and comfort.
Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays
carp and whistle all day in the branches, without
the push of the wind.
But to tell the truth after a while I'm pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled with lichen
and you can't keep me from the woods, from the tonnage
of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.
Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours, a
little sunshine, a little rain.
Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another -- why don't you get going?
For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.
And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money,
I don't even want to come in out of the rain.
Last song you listened to?