On March 26, 2009, I requested sonnets from my readers, to be written using this motley list of blasfomys:
I was blind sighted
brake the law
I went first, thusly:
Gobal warming and grammor errors --
Are there any darker terrors?
Such charachers, dare I ponder?
Are they canabals or aritsts, I wonder?
I was asolutely blind sighted! I see, but I do not see,
For what can there be when I will not see what's in front of me?
If the world disappered, supposidly becauase I permote
What's on my book shalves, who would tote the crippled goat?
Oh, I am done for.
I should run for the hills and fear no more.
For should I stop quickly and brake the law,
The comapny attornry would call it a draw
And sue the faux cartographer for millions of bucks,
While I in my daiper -- oh, fluck a duck.
And I had only one brave soul to pick up the gauntlet, but it was a winner:
Taking liberty with literary permote,
with these few lines of text I smote,
the idea that one cruciverbally spited,
would lead to this, and I am blind sighted,
in the midst of spring of blizzard's fury,
I falls on my arse, in literal asolutely.
Pathetic is as pathetic's smarming,
and pathetic is those who believe gobal warming,
for it is but for them I say "pshhaw",
and do all I can to brake the
This only gets worse and enough to encourage,
a negative scree couched in verbal descourage,
cuz sonnets ain't much of that what's for me,
and if writ bad enough will bring a stop order from an attornry.