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Poem

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  • Michael Lee
    Morning After 02/2003 Michael Lee Another crapulous morning Weaving across the floor To make the ritual offering To the porcelin god Foggy rememberance Of
    Message 1 of 21 , Mar 6, 2003
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      Morning After
      02/2003 Michael Lee

      Another crapulous morning
      Weaving across the floor
      To make the ritual offering
      To the porcelin god

      Foggy rememberance
      Of silken phrases
      Exchanged in the heat passion
      And a stealthy retreat

      Whipped by unseen willows
      Ripped by thorns of invisible roses
      And still held for ransom
      By goblets of bittersweet wine
      Michael
      ***Life's not a race to be won, so don't rush to the finish***
      poetrypoem.com/mystiklee
    • wings081
      Hi Michael Identifying with your poem I offer the following: As a callow youth I would with others Against the good advice of mothers Imbibing of amber
      Message 2 of 21 , Mar 7, 2003
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        Hi Michael

        Identifying with your poem I offer the following:

        As a callow youth I would with others
        Against the good advice of mothers
        Imbibing of amber nectar brew
        By glass and bottle, quite a few

        I pledged allegiance to Bacchus God
        And never rued the path I trod
        Attending me was Hebe fair
        A comely wench with golden hair

        Oftimes I've wandered from the bar
        And staggered home which was not far
        Resolving never would I go back
        But once again alas, alack

        A call would come from friend or foe
        "Let us to yon tavern go"
        Then off we'd trot at quite a gallop
        To quaff again a glass of wallop

        Repeat performance at each weekend
        Into our cups our way we'd wend
        A race with time to quench our thirst
        Who would hit the sawdust first?


        We made disgraceful exhibitions
        When we were lacking inhibitions
        Others would castigate us lots
        Call us pigs and drunken sots

        We cared not a fig, not one iota
        Nothing could, disrupt our rota
        Until that is, our dearest friend
        Sadly approached his living end

        Cirrhosis of the liver they said
        A month or two before he's dead
        Requiescant In Pace was there in Latin
        His coffin of oak was lined with satin


        Of those who remain, not very many
        Will drink much at all. Some not any
        Gone are the days of the draught by the flagon
        Most of those left are now on the wagon
        I say most of them, excluding me
        I don't think I'll ever be truly TT
        Vino with dinner , with lunch, with a snack
        And after a seven course a warming cognac

        I still savour the taste of Jack Daniels on ice
        My paramour's gin an vermouth is also quite nice
        I pray her poor head will not suffer from pain
        For from what I hope follows I will never abstain


        Best wishes from an ex-lager lout

        Wings
      • Susan Donahue
        Dear Wings, I am wiping away tears of mirth...this is truly outrageously funny. Suzianne
        Message 3 of 21 , Mar 7, 2003
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          Dear Wings, I am wiping away tears of mirth...this is truly
          outrageously funny.

          Suzianne

          --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, wings081 <no_reply@y...>
          wrote:
          > Hi Michael
          >
          > Identifying with your poem I offer the following:
          >
          > As a callow youth I would with others
          > Against the good advice of mothers
          > Imbibing of amber nectar brew
          > By glass and bottle, quite a few
          >
          > I pledged allegiance to Bacchus God
          > And never rued the path I trod
          > Attending me was Hebe fair
          > A comely wench with golden hair
          >
          > Oftimes I've wandered from the bar
          > And staggered home which was not far
          > Resolving never would I go back
          > But once again alas, alack
          >
          > A call would come from friend or foe
          > "Let us to yon tavern go"
          > Then off we'd trot at quite a gallop
          > To quaff again a glass of wallop
          >
          > Repeat performance at each weekend
          > Into our cups our way we'd wend
          > A race with time to quench our thirst
          > Who would hit the sawdust first?
          >
          >
          > We made disgraceful exhibitions
          > When we were lacking inhibitions
          > Others would castigate us lots
          > Call us pigs and drunken sots
          >
          > We cared not a fig, not one iota
          > Nothing could, disrupt our rota
          > Until that is, our dearest friend
          > Sadly approached his living end
          >
          > Cirrhosis of the liver they said
          > A month or two before he's dead
          > Requiescant In Pace was there in Latin
          > His coffin of oak was lined with satin
          >
          >
          > Of those who remain, not very many
          > Will drink much at all. Some not any
          > Gone are the days of the draught by the flagon
          > Most of those left are now on the wagon
          > I say most of them, excluding me
          > I don't think I'll ever be truly TT
          > Vino with dinner , with lunch, with a snack
          > And after a seven course a warming cognac
          >
          > I still savour the taste of Jack Daniels on ice
          > My paramour's gin an vermouth is also quite nice
          > I pray her poor head will not suffer from pain
          > For from what I hope follows I will never abstain
          >
          >
          > Best wishes from an ex-lager lout
          >
          > Wings
        • Michael Lee
          LOL that was quite good, Wings. I m one of the TT types, myself. have been many a year now. guess I had my share when I was much younger. :o) Michael
          Message 4 of 21 , Mar 7, 2003
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            LOL that was quite good, Wings. I'm one of the TT types, myself. have
            been many a year now. guess I had my share when I was much younger. :o)
            Michael
            ***Life's not a race to be won, so don't rush to the finish***
            poetrypoem.com/mystiklee
            ----- Original Message -----
            From: "wings081" <no_reply@yahoogroups.com>
            To: <ticket2write@yahoogroups.com>
            Sent: Friday, March 07, 2003 6:48 AM
            Subject: [ticket2write] Re: Poem


            Hi Michael

            Identifying with your poem I offer the following:

            As a callow youth I would with others
            Against the good advice of mothers
            Imbibing of amber nectar brew
            By glass and bottle, quite a few

            I pledged allegiance to Bacchus God
            And never rued the path I trod
            Attending me was Hebe fair
            A comely wench with golden hair

            Oftimes I've wandered from the bar
            And staggered home which was not far
            Resolving never would I go back
            But once again alas, alack

            A call would come from friend or foe
            "Let us to yon tavern go"
            Then off we'd trot at quite a gallop
            To quaff again a glass of wallop

            Repeat performance at each weekend
            Into our cups our way we'd wend
            A race with time to quench our thirst
            Who would hit the sawdust first?


            We made disgraceful exhibitions
            When we were lacking inhibitions
            Others would castigate us lots
            Call us pigs and drunken sots

            We cared not a fig, not one iota
            Nothing could, disrupt our rota
            Until that is, our dearest friend
            Sadly approached his living end

            Cirrhosis of the liver they said
            A month or two before he's dead
            Requiescant In Pace was there in Latin
            His coffin of oak was lined with satin


            Of those who remain, not very many
            Will drink much at all. Some not any
            Gone are the days of the draught by the flagon
            Most of those left are now on the wagon
            I say most of them, excluding me
            I don't think I'll ever be truly TT
            Vino with dinner , with lunch, with a snack
            And after a seven course a warming cognac

            I still savour the taste of Jack Daniels on ice
            My paramour's gin an vermouth is also quite nice
            I pray her poor head will not suffer from pain
            For from what I hope follows I will never abstain


            Best wishes from an ex-lager lout

            Wings















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          • wings081
            Dear Suzi I penned my rhyme for you to amuse Diverting your mind from global news To your good health I ll raise my chalice If you ll read my poem cum grano
            Message 5 of 21 , Mar 7, 2003
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              Dear Suzi


              I penned my rhyme for you to amuse
              Diverting your mind from global news
              To your good health I'll raise my chalice
              If you'll read my poem cum grano salis

              As Ever
              Wings
            • mnbates
              The casual use of Latin tag, Always seemed a fearful drag, But, I have no time to parley, Ending ave atque vale . Regards, Tin
              Message 6 of 21 , Mar 30, 2003
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                The casual use of Latin tag,
                Always seemed a fearful drag,
                But, I have no time to parley,
                Ending 'ave atque vale'.

                Regards,
                Tin
              • wings081
                Hi Tin When younger I was a Latin hater Drilled into me at Alma Mater But when writing harsh words crude or pale Argumentum ad verecundian does now prevail
                Message 7 of 21 , Mar 30, 2003
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                  Hi Tin

                  When younger I was a Latin hater
                  Drilled into me at Alma Mater
                  But when writing harsh words crude or pale
                  Argumentum ad verecundian does now prevail

                  Best wishes
                  Wings
                • Susan Donahue
                  Dear Wings, It has oft been my observation, and a source of consternation, that so much pasionate argumentum ad Verecundiam, with much momentum, lands upon
                  Message 8 of 21 , Mar 30, 2003
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                    Dear Wings,

                    It has oft been my observation,
                    and a source of consternation,
                    that so much pasionate argumentum
                    ad Verecundiam, with much momentum,
                    lands upon rocks of genetic fallacy
                    with fractured logic for all to see.

                    Suzianne

                    --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, wings081 <no_reply@y...>
                    wrote:
                    > Hi Tin
                    >
                    > When younger I was a Latin hater
                    > Drilled into me at Alma Mater
                    > But when writing harsh words crude or pale
                    > Argumentum ad verecundian does now prevail
                    >
                    > Best wishes
                    > Wings
                  • sensualwordz@aol.com
                    gettysburg is one of my fav places to visit thank you
                    Message 9 of 21 , Jul 3, 2003
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                      gettysburg is one of my fav places to visit

                      thank you
                    • Cynthia L. Heier
                      Good poem....It is easier for me to show than tell...this would be my revision... hugs and slurps, cin and buckaroo Baptism of Blood Cannon fire is over Smoke
                      Message 10 of 21 , Jul 4, 2003
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                        Good poem....It is easier for me to show than tell...this would be my revision...
                        hugs and slurps,
                        cin and buckaroo


                        Baptism of Blood


                        Cannon fire is over
                        Smoke has cleared away
                        Silence shrouds the battlefield
                        All, lie in disarray.

                        Silent the bugler's trumpet
                        He lies among the dead
                        Beneath a tattered battle flag
                        Ground, a pillow for his head.

                        A mist of rain falls
                        And gently covers all
                        Blue and Grey together lie
                        One, under the growing pall.

                        Baptized in fire, smoke and blood
                        No fear to cloud their brow
                        At peace they lie together
                        They, are brothers now.


                        =====
                        Remember that despite all its sham and drudgery, the world is still a beautiful place, filled with wonderful people:)

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                      • Ann
                        You turned my frown upside down my dull eyes to bright You gave my step a lightness and my heart a rythmic smile You gave my life new meaning my brain a reason
                        Message 11 of 21 , Jan 21, 2005
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                          You turned my frown upside down
                          my dull eyes to bright

                          You gave my step a lightness
                          and my heart a rythmic smile

                          You gave my life new meaning
                          my brain a reason to think

                          You brightened up my universe
                          and opend the door to my destiny.

                          Ann Walters
                        • Carol Carpenter
                          Dear Ann, This is nice, but I want you to make it stronger, more emotional. Take away the You s and turn the verbs to action, you will have a poem with much
                          Message 12 of 21 , Jan 22, 2005
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                            Dear Ann,
                             
                            This is nice, but I want you to make it stronger, more emotional. Take away the "You"s and turn the verbs to action, you will have a poem with much more power. Here's an example:
                            You say:
                            You turn my frown upside down
                            my dull eyes to bright
                             
                            I want you to say something like this:
                            Turn my frown upside down
                            and brighten my dull (add a color here) eyes
                             
                            Maybe it's just me, but I want more impact from my poetry. We only have a few short lines to grab the reader's attention. I hope this is helpful; just keep writing!
                             
                            Carol
                             
                            By the way, the word ryhtmic should be spelled rhythmic..a minor thingy.

                            Ann <thoroughly1loved@...> wrote:


                            You turned my frown upside down
                            my dull eyes to bright

                            You gave my step a lightness
                            and my heart a rythmic smile

                            You gave my life new meaning
                            my brain a reason to think

                            You brightened up my universe
                            and opend the door to my destiny.

                            Ann Walters








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                          • Ann Walters
                            Dear Carol, Thank you for that insight. I knew something didn t read quiet right about it, but just couldn t put my finger on it. I will rework it and post
                            Message 13 of 21 , Jan 22, 2005
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                              Dear Carol,
                               
                              Thank you for that insight.  I knew something didn't read quiet right about it, but just couldn't put my finger on it.  I will rework it and post again.
                               
                              Ann

                              Carol Carpenter <carol_emt87@...> wrote:
                              Dear Ann,
                               
                              This is nice, but I want you to make it stronger, more emotional. Take away the "You"s and turn the verbs to action, you will have a poem with much more power. Here's an example:
                              You say:
                              You turn my frown upside down
                              my dull eyes to bright
                               
                              I want you to say something like this:
                              Turn my frown upside down
                              and brighten my dull (add a color here) eyes
                               
                              Maybe it's just me, but I want more impact from my poetry. We only have a few short lines to grab the reader's attention. I hope this is helpful; just keep writing!
                               
                              Carol
                               
                              By the way, the word ryhtmic should be spelled rhythmic..a minor thingy.

                              Ann <thoroughly1loved@...> wrote:


                              You turned my frown upside down
                              my dull eyes to bright

                              You gave my step a lightness
                              and my heart a rythmic smile

                              You gave my life new meaning
                              my brain a reason to think

                              You brightened up my universe
                              and opend the door to my destiny.

                              Ann Walters








                              Learn more about ticket2wite at http://ticket2write.tripod.com


                              Do you Yahoo!?
                              Yahoo! Search presents - Jib Jab's 'Second Term'

                              Learn more about ticket2wite at http://ticket2write.tripod.com


                              Do you Yahoo!?
                              Yahoo! Search presents - Jib Jab's 'Second Term'

                            • GeorgeAnne
                              Hope you all enjoy. Seems I have the market on writing little poems when we lose someone in our agricultural area where I live (reason why this sounds so
                              Message 14 of 21 , Mar 11, 2006
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                                Hope you all enjoy. Seems I have the market on writing little poems when we lose someone in our agricultural area where I live (reason why this sounds so "folksy")
                                 
                                GeorgeAnne
                                 
                                 
                                WE`LL MEET AGAIN
                                 
                                There`s just no easy words to say,
                                to comfort you this mournful day.
                                The Lord above has called him home,
                                where he`ll be loved, and not alone.
                                 
                                They say that when your job is done,
                                you`ll find your peace beyond the Sun.
                                And, all of those who`ve gone before,
                                will welcome him at Heaven`s door.
                                 
                                We`ve loving memories tucked away,
                                and in our hearts, he`ll always stay.
                                Never asked too much from others,
                                treated people just as brothers.
                                 
                                Having a way with folks, this guy,
                                offering help, not asking why.
                                A generous man, that he was,
                                and did for many, just because.
                                 
                                When our time comes to leave this plane,
                                past our sorrows, and all the pain,
                                we`ll all be joined with him again,
                                it`s just the start, and not the end.
                                 
                                 
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