Monday, May 31, 2010

intermission

These poems are ridiculously fun to write, but kind of hurt my head when I focus on them too much...its easier to just let it flow.

I hope that people reading this (if there are any) are enjoying it so far. I'd appreciate any feedback you have...whether you love the Gellybird or just plain despise Bergruntha (that horrific wench), please give your commentary!

Sincerely,
Charles Doyle
aka. InsanityBear

"Caruso The Steel Worker"

Caruso The Steel Worker suffers the most,
when his toes gets possessed by a dead game-show host,
his eyeballs explode as he tends to the roast,
then he lies on his back and admires the coast.

"Shabumba's Ballad"

Shabumba was a grande olde whale,
the grandest in the sea,
whose Gran had taught her all she knew,
of grandiosity.

"SHABUMBA!" drunken Goons would chant,
in pubs both far and wide,
"I'd maim my Wife and slay my Aunt,
to make that whale my bride!"

But if you knew The Lady Whale,
Shabumba, as do I,
You'd know that seeking sex from her,
would make your children cry.

"Bergruntha & The Walrus"

Bergruntha met Jungleton Jacobs one day,
on a Walrus designed for a King,
its tusks were quite dusty,
Bergruntha was lusty,
The Walrus decided to sing:

"I hate you, Bergruntha, you crazy old broad,
and I thought Mister Jacobs should know,
your campaign in Poland,
to ban the name "Roland",
is fascistly-strange and Po-Mo."

"I'd never make love to a woman like that!"
mumbled Jacobs, dismounting the beast.
The Walrus had blown it,
Bergruntha disowned it,
and melted its blubber to grease.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

"The Sultry Spider"

The Sultry Spider
spilled sex syrup sideways, so
nobody got laid.

"Relying On Benson"

Relying on Benson is never a grand
idea, because he'll demolish your hands,
as soon as he cuts you, you'll be needing band
-aids, but you can't help it, your blood turns to jam!

Is that how Young Benson would want to remember
his victims? As handless? Jam-blooded? Dismembered?
A goat had once stopped him from placing a blender
on top of his head as he questioned his gender.

So, whether a builder who's just put a fence in,
or priest who's forgiven a church full of dense sin,
remember as if there was only one lesson,
that nobody wins when Relying On Benson...

"Technology Swine"

Standing in Line! Minding the Time!
Drinking some paint with "Technology Swine"!
He'll spray you with bleach as he alters your spine!
Then FedEx your bones to The Land Before Time!

"Depravity Snare"

Hey, you...
YEAH, you!
"what DO you plan to DO?",
when Depravity Snare,
snares youre Auntie Sue?

"The Bludgeoned Goon"

"The bludgeoned GOON!" Bergruntha wailed,
conceding to the hounds,
"perhaps you're meant to see the moon,
convulsing from your mounds!"

"Come, shave an eel!" the hounds had piped,
their harmonies in tune,
"I know we're cute, but GOSH, you brute,
our mum abuses spoons!"

Bergruntha, not accustomed to,
a hound whose Mum was mad,
decided that The Bludgeoned Goon,
was likely just a fad.

"OH, WELL!"

"Ballad of the Gellybird"

There was a dainty Gellybird,
who lived beneath a moat,
"I wish I was an ape," he purred,
igniting several goats.

"These chunky boosters hinder me,
me body's made of gel,"
he whispered rather timidly,
whilst eating a hotel.

"A horse I'd milk to leave this place,"
the Gellybird did say.
"...I'd eat a glacier in discrace,
with lustful mounds of clay!"

"Alas," the Gellybird did moan,
his options were at none,
for if he strayed too far from home:
"A SOLAR-POWERED NUN!"

"A Boyish Blender"

A boyish blender,
bouncing beneath the brain-bag,
banishing the beans.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

"Ode to Industry Ham"

Industry Ham, Industry Ham,
Why aren't you part of a Glindustry Sham?
I looked up your Aunt, she was covered in Jam,
referring to me as a "Unionized Clam".

Believe me, old boy,
I'd be hard-pressed to see,
an Industry Ham who's as shameless as me,
I'd part with my children and splinter my knee,
for a chance to make LUST to an Evergreen Tree.

"A tree?" said Muldoon, as he danced a fine jig,
belt-sanding his face with a Cobbler's Wig,
"You'd prob'ly equate it to slaying a pig...
I wish I could help, but my BONES are too big!"

THE END?

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Welcome to the Insaniporium!

Welcome to The Insaniporium!

My name is Charles Doyle (a.k.a InsanityBear). I hail from Bermuda originally, but now live in Canada. I am a goon who needed a way to channel my pent-up energy, and subsequently decided to create a blog (THIS is THAT blog!). HOLY GALUNGAZOID! Much of what you discover within will come across as the ramblings of a mental patient, but it is important to me, so CLAMS TO YOU!

There will very little discernible structure here in the Insaniporium. I love to tangent, and though I will probably focus more heavily on some subjects than others, this purpose of this blog is to channel and perpetuate the spread of RANDOM, CREATIVE ENERGY. Interpret that however you will.

I've realized recently that I absolutely love the potential for expressiveness in the English language, and want to show you exactly what I mean by that. There might be literature, there might be poetry...there might Grit-Mature, there might be Show-A-Flea...but there will DEFINITELY be zany times!

ENJOY!
InsanityBear