poetry

[molly bloom]

Originally posted by Ben Kenobi
Cool.

Now, why don't we try to show Asher some of the beauty of poetry?

Wouldn't that be more effective than calling him names?

Because he reduces Sir Walter Raleigh's meditation on his approaching death to 'Sir Walter McNobby masturbating into a tin can.'

As Dorothy Parker said:

'You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think.'

I deal with Asher in terms he's capable of understanding.

[Ben Kenobi]

Now, you know a little of how I feel on other topics, eh?

You have to make some kind of connection, on his terms, by trying to find some poetry that he does like.

[monolith94]

Hey, Ben, answer me this: doesn't the commandment "thou shalt have no other gods before me" imply that there ARE other gods???

A bit off-topic, but I just thought of this today and I was amused by it.

[Ben Kenobi]

What does the term 'gods' mean?

There's a real reason why they use a different word in the Hebrew between God, and 'gods'. Or lord, and LORD.

[molly bloom]

Originally posted by Ben Kenobi
Now, you know a little of how I feel on other topics, eh?

You have to make some kind of connection, on his terms, by trying to find some poetry that he does like.

I don't need to read Asher's ill considered drivel to have empathy.

And don't forget- you warned me I don't know what goes on inside your head, nor would I want to, in a previous thread, in a post that seemed redolent of a hammy impersonation of Jack Nicholson's 'Gitmo' speech in 'A Few Good Men.'

Since he gives no reason other than 'it's ****' for disliking poetry, I have no idea what his criteria are for poetry he would like. Perhaps odes to a flat screen monitor, or a threnody for the Atari....

Frankly, the tedious, petulant displays of a science geek, trying and failing to get his own back on the 'artsy' types to salve his own feelings of inadequacy, aren't likely to prompt me to great expressions of altruism.

[bipolarbear]

one of my favorite poems
Titled:Ants

Adam Had'em

[Ben Kenobi]

aren't likely to prompt me to great expressions of altruism.

I'm sure he enjoyed riling you up.

[monolith94]

my website of poetry. I'm somewhat proud of a few of them. Most of them are barely professional though.

http://www.artconspiracy.com/conspiracy_word_gallery.asp?id=1506243553&counthit=1

[Bugs ****ing Bunny]

Louis MacNeice - Prayer before Birth


I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me

[molly bloom]

Originally posted by Ben Kenobi


I'm sure he enjoyed riling you up.

He must love failure- I felt pity and scorn, but no anger. His dismissal of poetry is his loss, not mine.

Kind pittie chokes my Spleene;

Satire III
by John Donne


Knowledge without sense is double folly.

Gracian