[Graehstone]

The finals of the National Poetry Contest last year came down to two finalists. One was a Duke University Law School graduate from an upper crust family; well-bred, well-connected, and all that goes with it. The other finalist was a redneck from Southeast Alabama A&M.
The rules of the contest required each finalist to compose a four-line poem in one minute or less, and the poem had to contain the word "Timbuktu".
The Duke graduate went first. About thirty seconds after the clock started he jumped up and recited the following poem:

Slowly across the desert sand
Trekked the dusty caravan.
Men on camels, two by two
Destination-Timbuktu.

The audience went wild!!! How, they wondered, could the redneck top that?! The clock started again and the redneck sat in silent thought. Finally, in the last few seconds, he jumped and recited:

Tim and me, a-huntin' went.
Met three whores in a pop-up tent.
They was three, we was two,
So I bucked one and Timbuktu.

[HappaGuy]

Tim and me, a-huntin' went.
Met three whores in a pop-up tent.
They was three, we was two,
So I bucked one and Timbuktu.

That's just a scream Graehstone! Thanks for posting that!

More anyone?

Tim bucked two and I bucked one
and between us five
we had some fun!
Then Tim's had one
and mine had two.

Now we long for Timbuktu.

[project ching]

World spinning around me,
I came to a place I’ve never been before.
I met Buddha there, and asked him if he’d
Like to roll a blunt with me.
“Young man, do not be nervous,”
Buddha told me in a tone that was
Perfectly impervious.
“You have a bright future, young man.
You will be a famous, rich, and
Powerful man, one day.
But you will still,
miss one thing in your life –
And that is the Peace of your mind.
Young man, take care of your mind first;
let us roll up a fat blunt, and bake up
This temple with the impalpable mist of
Deity.”
We sat down, ground down, rolled up and smoked down.
The world joined us, Jesus and Muhammad,
Confucius and Socrates, Caesar and Nietzche,
dan ce beau moment, nobody seemed to doubt,
that we’re all brothers, under the thick smoke,
under those disguises and tricks.