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Array ( [sid] => 3122 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => My Name Was Never Sampson [time] => 2002-08-31 20:32:03 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Situations arise with the goods
in the bag. I cardiovascularly
exercise my right to rock and
roll. It's how to tease
creatures without the use of the
word, finding one's intelligence
in books while forgetting to use
their mind!

If luck should give way their
grief had been free. A salute
to your error kid, a break
from tradition. I wait for
the next oracle to please a
social fragrance. Though
in saying one's caution takes
for granted that situation.

Speak more to that which will
not escape with all that is worthy
of craving. A common mistake
needs least attention, the good
old days prevail. Empty plates
of seasoned fries and coffee's
dripping endless down the sides
of your boyfriend the cup, old
just means you're prepared to
die while new days come when
you least expect.

Should it not have been so pleasant,
I'd have stayed a blind man smiling.
We could have positioned our lungs
in a manner worth saving, collected
and sold it for five in a jar. To
redeem myself, I mention you before
I jest. My name was never Sampson.
My strength radiates elsewhere.

Give in to your prescriptions! Turning
back would be guffawable. In the
same way one would let one's bread
run dry, gone are double decker
passengers for fear of survival. Your
native tongue was good for something,
(licking stamps) and I see that practice
has since been abandoned. I never
came to be inspired for your supply
of instant gratification. Leave that
to the sponges, and not the Guerilla
Press. I'd rather be tortured in song
than in any day's headline. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 262 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Adam_Gaucher [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

My Name Was Never Sampson

Contributed by Adam_Gaucher on Saturday, 31st August 2002 @ 08:32:03 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

Situations arise with the goods
in the bag. I cardiovascularly
exercise my right to rock and
roll. It's how to tease
creatures without the use of the
word, finding one's intelligence
in books while forgetting to use
their mind!

If luck should give way their
grief had been free. A salute
to your error kid, a break
from tradition. I wait for
the next oracle to please a
social fragrance. Though
in saying one's caution takes
for granted that situation.

Speak more to that which will
not escape with all that is worthy
of craving. A common mistake
needs least attention, the good
old days prevail. Empty plates
of seasoned fries and coffee's
dripping endless down the sides
of your boyfriend the cup, old
just means you're prepared to
die while new days come when
you least expect.

Should it not have been so pleasant,
I'd have stayed a blind man smiling.
We could have positioned our lungs
in a manner worth saving, collected
and sold it for five in a jar. To
redeem myself, I mention you before
I jest. My name was never Sampson.
My strength radiates elsewhere.

Give in to your prescriptions! Turning
back would be guffawable. In the
same way one would let one's bread
run dry, gone are double decker
passengers for fear of survival. Your
native tongue was good for something,
(licking stamps) and I see that practice
has since been abandoned. I never
came to be inspired for your supply
of instant gratification. Leave that
to the sponges, and not the Guerilla
Press. I'd rather be tortured in song
than in any day's headline.

Copyright © Adam_Gaucher ... [ 2002-08-31 20:32:03]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: My Name Was Never Sampson (User Rating: 1 )
by Jackee_line on Wednesday, 27th November 2002 @ 07:46:23 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

a fine write

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