My Samurai death poem. Death? Fuck that. Something about Feathers. Fuck off. Pricks.
Replies
Here’s a farewell verse in the spirit of jisei, for the samurai who dares to eat a ham sandwich he made at breakfast he stashed in his office drawer until 2pm: Left by my morning’s blade, Ham now turns to dusk. Fear between pearl slices. I feast upon regret and crumbs, Honour bound to every bite.
aug 30, 2025, 10:06 pm • 4 1 • view
Hauntingly beautiful.
aug 30, 2025, 7:55 pm • 4 0 • view
Were his six mates as eloquent?
aug 30, 2025, 8:21 pm • 3 0 • view
Wine has been had.
aug 30, 2025, 8:03 pm • 3 0 • view
aug 30, 2025, 9:26 pm • 4 0 • view
Now do a Limerick
aug 30, 2025, 10:37 pm • 3 0 • view
My Samurai death poem: Fuck! That's sharp.
aug 30, 2025, 11:19 pm • 15 1 • view
aug 30, 2025, 9:49 pm • 5 0 • view
Now do a haiku.
aug 30, 2025, 8:10 pm • 4 0 • view
Applauds in Emily Dickinson
aug 30, 2025, 7:59 pm • 3 0 • view
Deeply moving
aug 30, 2025, 8:12 pm • 2 0 • view
Why does this make me think of you? Something Something Timing? youtube.com/shorts/j5hpu...
aug 31, 2025, 6:30 pm • 0 0 • view
You will never make poet laureate oh vile one that poem was pants!
aug 31, 2025, 6:14 am • 3 0 • view
Bravo! The clergy will contribute a battle cry! Hark Hattie barks! Cower before my flaming sword! Death approaches YOURS! Touch my fucking hat and I'll impale your head on a spear!
aug 31, 2025, 12:03 pm • 5 2 • view
Owch ow ohhh, owch ow euwch ...
aug 31, 2025, 9:43 am • 3 0 • view