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Post by BoatBabe on Sept 5, 2014 21:35:55 GMT -5
WooHoo, Mike! Good to see you. How is Emi and life in Japan? Thanks for the poem. As always, Great! Hi Babe! We're all doing well. How about you? All the best, Mike We are doing well here, too, Mike You can scroll down to the Members Only section for more particulars. You inspire me to write a poem. It's been quite a while. All the best to you and Emi! Please stop by more often if you get the chance. I always love your posts.
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Post by joew on Sept 6, 2014 11:44:52 GMT -5
Mike — Glad to see you here.
I love the line about being glad you didn't know what you know now. So many people wish they had know something way back when, and that can be valid for a lot; but you're right — there are things it's better not to know when you're young. Thanks for pointing that out.
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Post by BoatBabe on Sept 6, 2014 12:33:40 GMT -5
Mike — Glad to see you here. I love the line about being glad you didn't know what you know now. So many people wish they had know something way back when, and that can be valid for a lot; but you're right — there are things it's better not to know when you're young. Thanks for pointing that out. I agree, Joe. When I was growing up, my Mom used to say that she wished she could go back to high school with her current knowledge. I haven't heard her say that in years, and I'm glad. It sounds like regret. There certainly are things better left unknown when you are younger. I'm taking Mike's line to heart.
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Post by Nomad-wino on Sept 17, 2014 21:46:20 GMT -5
Time is Time
Time has baptized me Washed my sarcasm away Left me living my life, In a sunshiny day Opened my eyes To see a better way
Time is a tiller, For my rudderless soul Lifting me out, Of a bottomless hole Bringing me the peace That I’d never knowed
Time cured what hurt Reversed the bad medicine Gave me the sign To forgive all the sins Left me to smile And visit my friends
Time is time Not the end
Mike
Note 1: This isn’t about me; I’m just playing with thoughts and words. Note 2: The word “Knowed” is attributed to the great Bob Dylan. Note 3: I partially lied on note 1. The first para is about me. I woke up one day and realized that over time I’d changed for the better. I was a nicer less sarcastic person.
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Post by joew on Sept 17, 2014 22:29:04 GMT -5
Thanks for posting.
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Post by BoatBabe on Sept 18, 2014 8:57:27 GMT -5
HA! Good call, Mike! I've written stories or poems that have left folks wondering about my mental/physical health. My answer is "That's why they call it fiction!" But somewhere in there, there is a kernel of truth.
I like "knowed." It opens possibilities.
Thanks, Mike!
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Post by rogesgallery on Feb 24, 2015 22:45:56 GMT -5
The Big ?…War
Twas it folly the day I joined the troupe which fondly did away my youth And trashed my mothers grand appeal “Do to others how you would feel” And there replaced with righteous zeal the vengeance of a nation
I did not ponder or hesitate nor contemplate the enemies fate His children’s lives and scholars lost His rubbled cities bombed and lost My goal to save my comrades bones from never going homeward
The soldiers life is not compassion Defeat is what we’re trained to fashion To bear our loads and eat our ration To flank to point to forward action to break the enemy’s morale to the victor go the spoils
Now back home I’m left to ponder what the fuck went down back yonder It seems so much another world A snapshot locked inside my mind The stories friends and family hear And then there’s the reality
Rogesgallery 2015
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Post by joew on Feb 25, 2015 14:06:27 GMT -5
Very thought-provoking.
(I'd have said "hell" instead of "f-word," but I guess that's how you young's talk even in public nowadays.)
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Post by rogesgallery on Feb 25, 2015 15:20:29 GMT -5
Tis true Joe and very often found as both adjective and adverb in modern movies. The idiomatic question is now not so much as to the words origin as it is to the need for crass, insulting, and combative predicate. And in this instance We're talking Boys who have become hardened men returned to the unchanged atmosphere of their boyhood. All simple movements in themselves yet extremely complex in the mind of someone just graduated into manhood, or the woman having achieved the unheard of, who went off to change the world and returned to find it unaffected.
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Post by rogesgallery on Feb 25, 2015 15:23:14 GMT -5
I might also add that in the military Hell is hardly ever mentioned but Fuck comes up in virtually every sentence.
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Post by BoatBabe on Feb 25, 2015 22:59:07 GMT -5
I might also add that in the military Hell is hardly ever mentioned but Fuck comes up in virtually every sentence. And that would NOT be the good kind. Another lesson, Roges, from someone who was really there. Thank you.
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Post by Nomad-wino on Mar 17, 2015 1:05:19 GMT -5
The Circle of LoveAutumn days and ex-wives Who’d have thought we’d grow to despise The way we talk, the way we chew our food The way she laughs like an old hyena How she hates when I tell the same stories All the little things that should be no worries Once we loved, like teens in heat Then she complained about my large cold feet Now those feet walk solo, no one by my side Tears all dried pain all gone The air seems cleaner the sky a brighter blue Faded are the things I wished I knew One can say "never again" as often as one likes It doesn't work that way, we’re like tots & tykes See what you like, like what you see The warmth of the Sun on a summer day A man and a woman, a touch and a kiss Wedding bells ring in a 2nd round of bliss Maybe Just having fun! My life is good! Mike
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Post by BoatBabe on Mar 17, 2015 7:22:10 GMT -5
Great pic, Mike, and fascinating poem. It's always entertaining to explore the flip side of the coin.
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Post by joew on Mar 17, 2015 12:56:02 GMT -5
Nice poem.
This time I knew it wasn't autobiographical even before you told us.
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Post by Nomad-wino on Apr 1, 2015 20:56:02 GMT -5
Potty Poetry
Here I sit with my poetic thoughts Wondering when things will drop I’m a King on his throne, the Man in the can Ruling the world with newspaper in hand
My thoughts are laced with wisdom and wit Whilst I sit here in my modern day pit The sanctuary of the luckiest few Checking out the TV guide and the Wall St. Review
From beyond my chamber I hear a sound From outside the door someone doth pound “Are you done in there?” my wife demands! “I’ll be out in a second” says the King of the can “I’ll be right out”
All the best, Mike
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Post by BoatBabe on Apr 2, 2015 8:06:19 GMT -5
True, true! King for a Moment.
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Post by joew on Apr 2, 2015 21:13:27 GMT -5
Mike, that's APHC-grade potty humor. I can imagine GK reciting it on the show. Well done!
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Post by Nomad-wino on Apr 4, 2015 16:36:11 GMT -5
Babe, Joe,
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my Potty prose. That little jingle developed in my head as I was walking to work. People must have thought I was nuts as I started laughing at myself. Oh well.
All the best, Mike
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Post by rogesgallery on Apr 14, 2023 21:29:37 GMT -5
Shakespeare in the 21st century
To share or not to share Is not a question Whether it is nobler on the web to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous marketing And by opposing end them. To die— to sleep? Or take arms against the giffs our troubles And by opposing them end them? To die—to sleep, No more; And by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand e-mails That digitally we are heir to: ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be accept’d. To die—to sleep To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub For in that sleep of death what e-mails may come. When we have shuffled off this digital mail Must give us pause—where’s the update That makes a calamity of so long life. For who would bear the quips and scorn tweets Th’presidential wrong, the proud mans contumely The pangs of dispriz media, the law’s delay. The insolence of office, and the spurns That patent merit of unworthy takes When he himself might his quietus make With a Bare needle? Who would a weary work bear To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death The undiscovered empyrean, from who’s ether No traveler returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather cut and paste those ills we have Then fling at others that we know not of Thus Twitter does make cowards of us all, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought And enterprises of great pitch and moment With this regard their currents turn away And lose the name of action
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