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Great Poetry
RE: Great Poetry
Quote:And sorry, judging by your first response in saying you didn't care what those references meant, you did exactly what I expected. Looked them up after  I challenged you then pretended to know what they were, irregardless of spelling. I am sure you looked "pariaktoi" otherwise you wouldn't have corrected it. 

Not a word very many laypeople know.

Not true.  I already knew what 'skene' meant.  I already knew what 'periaktoi' meant, but I had no idea (due to your horrid spelling 'parakatoi') that this was the word you meant until you defined it.  Sort of like if someone went on and on about their 'dasschuynk' and no one know what they meant until they called it a wiener dog.

Another false accusation.

Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
(May 20, 2019 at 4:26 pm)BrianSoddingBoru4 Wrote:
Quote:What false accusations?


1.  You said I was giving you advice about how to write poetry.  I've never done that.

2.  You said (different thread) that I insist on referring to economists as 'experts'.  I didn't.

3.  You said I think you don't know what you're doing, even though I corrected you and TWICE said that I think you DO know what you're doing.

4.  You've repeatedly called me names ('moron', 'dumbass', 'stupid') for doing nothing more than disagreeing with you.

5.  You continually put words in my mouth, by accusing me of making assumptions I never made.



Just fucking knock it off. You thought it sucked and you think I suck, and that is why you initiated your comment. Then after that you posted a poem yourself and do not tell me that was not to say, "This is how it is really done". 

No you do not think I know what I am doing, otherwise you wouldn't have made that initial comment that started this. 




Your backpeddling is underwhelming. 

I am not putting words in your mouth, you did this all yourself and didn't like being called out on it.

We've established that you think I suck and cant write poetry.

Well keep posting, and continue to see how much I don't give a shit.
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
Oh, I think you can write poetry.  I just find it to be dreadful.

Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
(May 20, 2019 at 4:38 pm)BrianSoddingBoru4 Wrote: Oh, I think you can write poetry.  I just find it to be dreadful.

Boru

And again, I don't give a shit. Not here to live my life for you.
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
Hollow Cost, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @brianrrs37 on twitter)

What does it "signify"
To employ barbarity
To dominate arbitrarily
In reality only temporary

Visagoths vs Ostrogoths
Bloods vs Crips 
Sunnis vs Shiites
Protestants vs Catholics


Flurry of activity
Shakespeare famously said
Sagan's Pale Blue Dot
The only home we have

We are not 
A separate species
We are not as different
As we'd like to think

The planet far older
Than our species
The universe far older
Than our tribal beefs

Once the abused
Becomes the abuser
Hollow is the cost
Of forgetting our history

Creates human misery
Chasing utopias
Clamoring to be the apex
In an uncaring universe

We are all we have
It is what we must face
As a collective species
Least extinction be our fate.
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
Jabberwocky  

(Lewis Carroll)


’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
      The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Earth has not any thing to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
There Was A Man In Our Town - (traditional)

There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise,
He jumped into a bramble-bush,
And scratched out both his eyes;

And when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main
He jumped into another bush
And scratched them in again.

Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
  • Song of the Wave
  • The strong shore is my beloved
  • And I am his sweetheart.
  • We are at last united by love, 
  • and then the moon draws me from him.
  • I go to him in haste and depart
  • Reluctantly, with manyLittle farewells.
  •  I steal swiftly from behind the
  • Blue horizon to cast the silver of
  • My foam upon the gold of his sand, and
  • We blend in melted brilliance.
  • I quench his thirst and submerge his
  • Heart; he softens my voice and subdues
  • My temper.At dawn I recite the rules of love upon
  • His ears, and he embraces me longingly.
  • At eventide I sing to him the song of
  • Hope, and then print smooth hisses upon
  • His face; I am swift and fearful, but he
  • Is quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
  • His broad bosom soothes my restlessness. 
  • As the tide comes we caress each other,
  • When it withdraws, I drop to his feet in
  • Prayer. 
  • Many times have I danced around mermaids 
  • As they rose from the depths and rested
  • Upon my crest to watch the stars;
  • Many times have I heard lovers complain 
  • Of their smallness,
  • and I helped them to sigh.
  • Many times have I teased the great rocks
  • And fondled them with a smile, but never
  • Have I received laughter from them;
  • Many times have I lifted drowning souls
  • And carried them tenderly to my beloved
  • Shore. He gives them strength as he
  • Takes mine. 
  • Many times have I stolen gems from the
  • Depths and presented them to my beloved
  • Shore. He takes them in silence, but still
  • I give fro he welcomes me ever. 
  • In the heaviness of night, 
  • when all creatures seek the ghost of Slumber,
  • I Sit up, singing at one time and sighing. 
  • At another. I am awake always. 
  • Alas! Sleeplessness has weakened me!
  • But I am a lover, and the truth of love
  • Is strong.
  • I may be weary, but I shall never die.
Reply
RE: Great Poetry
(July 2, 2019 at 4:18 am)vulcanlogician Wrote:
  • Song of the Wave
  • The strong shore is my beloved
  • And I am his sweetheart.
  • We are at last united by love, 
  • and then the moon draws me from him.
  • I go to him in haste and depart
  • Reluctantly, with manyLittle farewells.
  •  I steal swiftly from behind the
  • Blue horizon to cast the silver of
  • My foam upon the gold of his sand, and
  • We blend in melted brilliance.
  • I quench his thirst and submerge his
  • Heart; he softens my voice and subdues
  • My temper.At dawn I recite the rules of love upon
  • His ears, and he embraces me longingly.
  • At eventide I sing to him the song of
  • Hope, and then print smooth hisses upon
  • His face; I am swift and fearful, but he
  • Is quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
  • His broad bosom soothes my restlessness. 
  • As the tide comes we caress each other,
  • When it withdraws, I drop to his feet in
  • Prayer. 
  • Many times have I danced around mermaids 
  • As they rose from the depths and rested
  • Upon my crest to watch the stars;
  • Many times have I heard lovers complain 
  • Of their smallness,
  • and I helped them to sigh.
  • Many times have I teased the great rocks
  • And fondled them with a smile, but never
  • Have I received laughter from them;
  • Many times have I lifted drowning souls
  • And carried them tenderly to my beloved
  • Shore. He gives them strength as he
  • Takes mine. 
  • Many times have I stolen gems from the
  • Depths and presented them to my beloved
  • Shore. He takes them in silence, but still
  • I give fro he welcomes me ever. 
  • In the heaviness of night, 
  • when all creatures seek the ghost of Slumber,
  • I Sit up, singing at one time and sighing. 
  • At another. I am awake always. 
  • Alas! Sleeplessness has weakened me!
  • But I am a lover, and the truth of love
  • Is strong.
  • I may be weary, but I shall never die.

That's amazing.  Is it yours?

Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
Reply



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