Chat Chat Chat: Fun Times!

[Sunstone]

Who's bringing the beer?

RF Chat

"Who brings the beer this evening", she asked,
"Who among us brings the beer?"

"Are we not warriors, lovers, fathers,
Mothers, shamans?", I thought --
"Are we not a proud and noble Chat?
And thus,
Should not one among us bring the beer?"

"I bring the beer this evening", Quag said,
"I among us bring the beer!"

 

[Sunstone]

"This you must know, Grasshopper:
A stream seeks the river,
The river seeks a sea,
A sea seeks the sky,
The sky seeks a cloud,
The cloud seeks a stream --
And so it goes eternally
Around and around again
Like an internet chat
In which Birdy's Breasts
Are endlessly discussed."

 

[Sunstone]

My lord hath made a path
Through rocks for me
Yet I see thee whore after
False chats.

Yea! Thou art fickle
And so my god
Will mess with thee!
He of the Big Stick.

Repent thou then!
And come unto my chat
The chat that was your father's chat
And his father's chat before him,
The one true chat.

 

[Sunstone]

When I waded into the waters at midnight
I knew then not you, nor even your gods,
And around me was darkness,
And the same was around my heart,

For she who I loved had left me to marry
An abusive Tasmanian wombat rancher
In order to slake her unholy twin lusts
Of bearing some man cross-eyed children,
And after wards forever engaging him
In strange and stranger conversations.

My heart that midnight was a broken bowl
That could hold no feelings at all,
And I was numbed by the waters I waded in
And I was numbed by her leaving me:
I thought then because I saw only the darkness,
There was nothing beyond the darkness to see.

An yet you came to me,
You, my true love, finally came to me --
For the days had run onward from that night,
Until the very day I met you in Chat
Where you were somehow passionately attracted
To me even while I was telling Odion
About my extensive collection
Of stick figure drawings of my penis
That I had over the years
Conscientiously rendered for Heather
On finely woven 10" x 12" artist's papers.

 

[Sunstone]

Light breezes across the flowers
Light thoughts across my mind
I'm playing in the bowers
Which in Chat you will find.

 

[Panda]

Chat bump!

 

[Songbird]

I'm not in the mood to chat.

 

[Sunstone]

*Burp*

 

[Sunstone]

I'll be in Chat 15 minutes,
Or an hour at the most,
Then I'm going back to bed
Rather than post.

 

[Sunstone]

You wanted to give yourself to me,
You said, "On a bed of flowers."
Which later in the same hour led directly
To that awkward moment
When we fell from the branches
Of that damn dogwood tree.

After six months in traction,
And still a virgin, I was finally deflowered
By Panda's paws and tongue:

But was it worth it coming back
From the scene of my ravishment
On the hospital's morgue cart
Only to realize I had missed you in Chat?

 

[Sunstone]

In that damn dream last night, I was forced to walk down a Dragon's throat
Beneath rolling waves of blue fire, to an opaque wall of white flames,
Twelve feet high, that radiated heat like the bad breath of the gods
And then rip out the frickin' life of the Beast,
So that I might find where you were chained inside its sour belly
In order to tell you how croak had mentioned she would like it a lot
If she could only see you a bit more often in Chat

But even deep in the dream some part of me knew
You were worth it, Birdie; worth all of it; worth even that intense, angst-ridden
Moment when I came closest to tasting the very spittle of despair
Because the treasured chocolate kisses I'd brought you were melting away in the sickening heat
That poured thick as syrup from the Dragon's then still beating heart.

 

[Circle_One]

Alright homies, I'M in chat! Everyone come a'runnin!

 

[Sunstone]

"My Muse", I thought,
"Is a magic woman,
A shaman and an alchemist:

She is the catalyst in my life.
She has quickened me,
Fertilized me,
Brought me forth whole."

"I owe her the songs.
I owe her the songs I sing.

I owe her the Blayzing songs."

Then I thought,
"And I owe her a dozen roses, too --
No, two dozen! Yes, two dozen roses!"

I'm not cheap, you know.

So I'll go tonight, late, to the Chat Room
With two dozen roses,
To throw them
One at a time at her feet:

Yet, each one I throw
Shall still have its thorns,
For she brought me forth whole,
Thorns and all.

 

[Sunstone]

For you, my love; for you, my muse,

I have surrendered my petty soul as a sacrifice
To become reborn your Cosmic Dancer;

Thus I have chained beneath my feet
Your twin demons of good and evil.

And so now I must carry as a burden
This dangerous rose between my teeth.

Between my upper teeth
And my lower teeth,

Carry it both while going to chat
And while coming from chat,

Carry it until you yourself have learned
To pluck this wondrous flower from me

Without its poisonous thorns
Piercing your lips

And turning you into stone for eternity.

 

[Sunstone]

Before you, there were none like you,
None like you at all, Blayze.

No women in my life with your easy touch,
No women in my life with your comforting ways,
No women in my life with your confident manner

Of unfolding my mind,
Lulling my worries,
Putting to bed my concerns,
Sliding my fat wallet from its pocket --

Like you did that night in Chat,
While the Trickster croak
Distracted me with something shiny.

 

[Sunstone]

She was beyond caring why she loved him.
Beyond any caring at all these days.
But she had met him in chat that one morning
When the Winds were light with Spring's fertile hopes,
And even Panda was somewhat less than purely skeptical
About the Great ****-Goddess of Love.

He seemed a man of passions to her.
Huge thirsty, lusty, hungry passions:
His typing was fast and prolific,
His "LOLs" were always the first
To pop up after anyone's jokes;
His "BRBs" were inevitably shouted out in all caps;
His exclamation points were as numerous as the shoals of fish
That once had been so abundant on the Grand Banks.

She did not know, how could she have known,
But she was hankering after a false man:
For he was not really the rich, semi-retired
Albanian shrimp farmer he represented himself as,
But was instead, the 64 year old quality control engineer
For a failing American manufacturing company
That produced only a decrepit line of men's genital waxes.

 

[9-10ths_Penguin]

I'm not feeling as poetic as Sunstone today, but I'm in chat!

 

[Sunstone]

Panda worked up his courage for weeks,
Until the fated night came when his yearning hopes
Weighed a ton more than his fears,
And so thus he found the guts to beg Birdie
For her wing in an unholy marriage
Between a bird and an engineer.

But there was a lag in Chat that night,
A lag greater than most,
And Birdie had left long before Panda's
Heart pounding proposal of uncommon union
Came up on the screen reading as sweet as a poem
From Robert Burns himself.

So sweet a proposal that almost everyone else
In Chat that night swooned while reading it,
The screen itself wavered and turned to mush,
And there were six seppukus committed
By a tour group from Japan who were unable
To tolerate the intensity
Of the proposal's tragic beauty.

 

[Sunstone]

It happened the same strange night that Panda
Tried to rebalance the unholy epistemologies
Of the more radically fundamentalist posters on RF
By propping up the sagging West corner
Of the Forum Server
With that terrifying ribbed condom
He’d been carrying in his wallet since 2002.

The sudden lurch in perspectives
Threw heaven face-forward
Into the unzipped pants of hell,
Causing the Christian Reverend Rick
To find himself eagle-spread beneath
The lashes of Mystic’s Tibetan whips,
And not that he needed any encouragement.

The Tao Te Ching married the Bible that night
In a match so improbable the gods both wept and laughed,
And Mr. Spinkles was heard at last
To utter an inanity so profoundly groundless
Even the polite Odion conceded it might be BS.

Many of us fled the chaotic jumble
As refugees to the Chat Room,
Where the amoral croak
Took advantage of us
By stealing our shiny things.

Yet that awful night was not an entire loss
For I saw the moon as if for the first time
When you confessed to me in private chat:
The stick figure drawings of my penis
That I’d painfully rendered over the years on artist-grade papers
Had made your raw and honest emotions visible to you ,
Made them concrete and tangible in the moon’s pure light --

Emotions that you’d tragically suppressed sharing,
You said, even with that ridiculous preacher man
Who’d come knocking at your door with his holy book
To proselytize you while wearing a second-hand chicken outfit.

It followed, within the silence of a single moment,
I felt you enter into my pounding heart
Complete and whole,thorns and all,
As my fated friend, my found muse,

Then I felt a sacred wind rising inside of me
Like a driving storm.

 

[Sunstone]

In Chat last night,
I said the poets had created the gods.
But Panda, who quite obviously
Did not know Jack about the matter,
Said the philosophers had created them.

Thus, we reached an impasse
That was firmly resolved
Only when we freely concluded
It was the Scots
Who had made the best single malts.