Al Gore Nobel Poet???

Sinatra

Senior Member
Feb 5, 2009
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Al Gore poetry, from his latest book Choosing to choose, or one choice for all, or choices are for choosers, or whatever the hell he called it.

This is no joke, you can't make this tripe up - this is Al Gore poetry folks...



One thin September soon
A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun

Vapors rise as
Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune's bones dissolve

Snow glides from the mountain
Ice fathers floods for a season
A hard rain comes quickly

Then dirt is parched
Kindling is placed in the forest
For the lightning's celebration

Unknown creatures
Take their leave, unmourned
Horsemen ready their stirrups

Passion seeks heroes and friends
The bell of the city
On the hill is rung

The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools.


goremarriage.jpg
 
Al Gore poetry, from his latest book Choosing to choose, or one choice for all, or choices are for choosers, or whatever the hell he called it.

This is no joke, you can't make this tripe up - this is Al Gore poetry folks...



One thin September soon
A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun

Vapors rise as
Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune's bones dissolve

Snow glides from the mountain
Ice fathers floods for a season
A hard rain comes quickly

Then dirt is parched
Kindling is placed in the forest
For the lightning's celebration

Unknown creatures
Take their leave, unmourned
Horsemen ready their stirrups

Passion seeks heroes and friends
The bell of the city
On the hill is rung

The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools.


goremarriage.jpg

gore_al_fat.jpg
 
Global Warming

The world cannot argue for itself
The seas and lakes cannot say stop
The air cannot use a ventilator
A dying tree cannot see a doctor
Buffaloes wolves and bears disappear
Indians cannot return to hunt
Cleanup has little glory
There is no money in air
Buffaloes wolves and bears disappear
And myriad living things die
There used to be snakes
The child sees none today
Does it matter that things change
The pond contains no living thing
Does it matter that things change
The world cannot hold life accountable
Life will not return where it is not wanted.
 
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Geeze.. what a complete dipshit that poor guy is. A total bore. If not for the fraud he's been pushing, I'd feel sorry for his lame ass.
 
Choosing Write? by Charles Stucker

If only I could write,
Something just as trite,
And equally untrue,
To the bank I'd rue.

If only I could make,
A movie of our stake,
And then awards all fell,
from Oscar and Nobel.

If only that's the rub,
Goes right down to the nub,
I can't make a mill,
Cause my hand's not in the till.


Permission to freely reproduce without change and credit given
(What the heck this drivel only took five minutes to write)
 

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