anonamouse
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 6, 2004
- Posts
- 243
Upon from the right by far trees, that white place
Pierced by the mist that fades away,
Silence. Your way of being. Your way of seeing
To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
Between the vertex that the far-lit gray
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
I. Further Exploration of Spitsbergen
That this mud draws on the stone.
Cuts out of its width (81). Unfair
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
I am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering along
Bronze the sky, with no
demonstrating their talent for comedy—stroke
Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
Bronze the sky, with no
From there. Toward . . .
Wow, a poem sent to me, greeting me in the morning. Not bad, it has it's moments. A little dyfunctional, but it's the thought that counts.
Preceding it was a short informative message:
Fact is when taken correctly, Viagra
works for most men. Studies show
that it works for up to 4 out of 5 men
(versus 1 out of 4 on sugar pills).
I thought , If I only could write like that, I would fill the world with love. But my bother, who is smarter than me and thereforth more prone to get rich schemes, points out with a little luck we could make a ton of money. And he pointed out, we could move to Ireland, where writers are tax-exempt and we keep all our poetical gains.
Aye, the makin' o' the green, getting that lake front condo at Innisfree...
Let's see....
Bubba, gazebo bound, dismal faced as yellow snow;
his favorite lute has come unstrung, but who's to know
that some creepy Pan had it planned to flute solo.
And in the square stood Mère and Père and I
walked in at ten to ten with mud upon my fly
having Alice in the sand, I wouldn't lie
to you. Well bronze my sky and white my yellow
primered gazebo, Alice takes the stand; so mellow;
so soloed Pan, and Bubba's wan, an unhappy fellow.
Now the short informative message:
Go see Alice, but see a doctor
if more than four hours long.
Postscript: $6,830.38 the first week, but breakfast in Belfast sucks.
Pierced by the mist that fades away,
Silence. Your way of being. Your way of seeing
To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,
And up there I cannot tell if it is still
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
Between the vertex that the far-lit gray
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
I. Further Exploration of Spitsbergen
That this mud draws on the stone.
Cuts out of its width (81). Unfair
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
I am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering along
Bronze the sky, with no
demonstrating their talent for comedy—stroke
Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
Bronze the sky, with no
From there. Toward . . .
Wow, a poem sent to me, greeting me in the morning. Not bad, it has it's moments. A little dyfunctional, but it's the thought that counts.
Preceding it was a short informative message:
Fact is when taken correctly, Viagra
works for most men. Studies show
that it works for up to 4 out of 5 men
(versus 1 out of 4 on sugar pills).
I thought , If I only could write like that, I would fill the world with love. But my bother, who is smarter than me and thereforth more prone to get rich schemes, points out with a little luck we could make a ton of money. And he pointed out, we could move to Ireland, where writers are tax-exempt and we keep all our poetical gains.
Aye, the makin' o' the green, getting that lake front condo at Innisfree...
Let's see....
Bubba, gazebo bound, dismal faced as yellow snow;
his favorite lute has come unstrung, but who's to know
that some creepy Pan had it planned to flute solo.
And in the square stood Mère and Père and I
walked in at ten to ten with mud upon my fly
having Alice in the sand, I wouldn't lie
to you. Well bronze my sky and white my yellow
primered gazebo, Alice takes the stand; so mellow;
so soloed Pan, and Bubba's wan, an unhappy fellow.
Now the short informative message:
Go see Alice, but see a doctor
if more than four hours long.
Postscript: $6,830.38 the first week, but breakfast in Belfast sucks.
