Jump to content

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

volt

Just Felt Like It

Recommended Posts

The Raving (A parody of Edgar Allen Poe's, The Raven)

 

By Jim Phillips

 

 

 

 

Once upon a Sunday dreary, while gazing, bleak and bleary,

 

Over many a shrill and shrieking rant of columnists galore,

 

In my heart I felt a sinking. "Have they lost their knack for thinking?! It's enough to start me drinking!" And I must confess I swore; I confess I spat the vilest of invective as I swore, Spat and cursed, and stomped the floor.

 

For distinctly I remember, it was in the bright September

 

When a blast of flame and ember marked the starting of the war, Yet this morning finds me tracking all these dodos, brains a-slacking Still insistent that we're lacking all the proof which they ignore, All the proof which, head in sand, they so conveniently ignore. Quoth the peaceniks, "We need more."

 

And I scarce can watch the TV without the chill of heebie jeebies At the sight of movie actors spouting off their gripe du jour. To the Jimmy Carter stand-ins (Streisand, Baldwin, Penn, Sarandon): If it's so dire, why not abandon this totalitarian shore For the greener lands of France? Depart this dark repressive shore! Quoth the peaceniks, "Nevermore!"

 

But there's just one valid answer to the throbbing media cancer, And the queasy timid souls for whom there's naught worth fighting for, And to Daschle's petty prattling, and Saddam's harsh saber-rattling: We must now begin the battling of this deadly cheerless chore, For should we shirk the burden of our grim and somber chore, We shall know peace . . . nevermore.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

What didn't like that one?? :mrgreen: v

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Have a Rendezvous with Death

 

by Alan Seeger

 

 

 

I have a rendezvous with Death

At some disputed barricade,

When Spring comes back with rustling shade

And apple-blossoms fill the air --

I have a rendezvous with Death

When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand

And lead me into his dark land

And close my eyes and quench my breath --

It may be I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death

On some scarred slope of battered hill,

When Spring comes round again this year

And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep

Pillowed in silk and scented down,

Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,

Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,

Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .

But I've a rendezvous with Death

At midnight in some flaming town,

When Spring trips north again this year,

And I to my pledged word am true,

I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

But I've a rendezvous with Death

At midnight in some flaming town,

When Spring trips north again this year,

And I to my pledged word am true,

I shall not fail that rendezvous.

 

P.S.

Alas, it seems the best laid plans

of mice and men sink in the sands

of time. I blame my ten buck watch,

the seven beers and double scotch

I sank inside life's final bar.

That flaming town was just too far.

I made it there by ten-to-one

but by that time ol' Death was gone.

:)

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Feeling Depressed Volt ?

Whats up with that?? I have to be bummed out to post a poem?? :)

 

PS

Way to go moon!!! :mrgreen: v

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Whats up with that?? I have to be bummed out to post a poem?? :)

 

PS

Way to go moon!!! :mrgreen: v

I thought that was very creative poetry, Volt. Thought provoking. :)

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Yes, good poems ! Didn't mean it in a "bad" way. Just seemed kind of depressing subject matter ...

Well they didn't depress me,,but I won't offend you anymore with them!! :) v

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Ah VOLT !!! 'Ya know what I meant ! Nothing you ever post is offensive!

 

Sorry you misunderstood my statement. ( I am the one on Zoloft ) lol

 

You just get " a feel " about postings / posters here and yours are always so *upbeat* ...

 

So you have a deep secret side to you .... *S*

 

I Hope that I Did Not Offend YOU !!! ( You DO Know that I would never intentionally do that Dear Volt )

:bump::bawling: Sorry !

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

gee ,Volt

i like them

just was a different side of the coin from you .

:rolleyes:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Once upon a dreary

life upon myself

I failed and

dreary failed

escape and

punctured what I knew

and fell again

 

I

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

More coinage!! :) v

 

just was a different side of the coin from you .

 

 

I'm afraid of the future and all it may bring;

Yet I cry over the past and all it held.

Life is a voyage

Trapped in the uncertainty of today

With only the healing of our tears for comfort.

 

To admit need is to give into weakness

Yet not to approach love is to run from a challenge...

Such is life, for we can neither be winners nor losers -

We are stuck in a void

Due to the allowing of ourselves to be controlled

By the actions of others;

And often as not those actions

And our desires

Were not predestined to be the same

And we are left alone and lonely...

 

So, we must consider loneliness

As being the ultimate opportunity

To listen to the inner self...

And listen we must

To find the ability to look within

For the answers that plague the soul --

 

For in all adversities

All we really can depend on

Is that which we started with --

Ourselves…

 

 

by Elaine Wilson

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

--Billy Collins--

 

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide.

 

or press an ear against its hive.

 

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

 

or walk inside the poem's room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

 

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author's name on the shore.

 

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

 

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.

(from The Apple That Astonished Paris, U of Arkansas, 1988)

 

So True Isn't It ?

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

He's a man of many talents,,I had seen the "unknown" before,,but not the rest!!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...