normal jean
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2004
- Posts
- 1,193
whoever is moderating? delete this thread...I forgot where I was.... thanks
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Political Perversion ( of old poems)
- Thread starter normal jean
- Start date
normal jean
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2004
- Posts
- 1,193
Darkmaas!!
Wonderful to see you
I was just really distracted and intended to post the "poem" on a thread at ER for my daughter to read. I can't explain my lack of thought processes
It really wasnt ready anyway, oneof thoese pseudo silly political rants that pop out when they shouldnt.
did you wanna read it? ali did, so Im putting it back for a little while.
great to see you aroundthese parts
xoxox
NJ
~~~~
pirated from mending wall by robert frost
Something there is that doesn't love a missile shield,
That compels the sun-damping nuclear winter from under it,
And spills the rants and raves against the sun,
And makes silent threats even the dead might understand
The work of haters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have Osama out of hiding,
To yelp the pleasing dogs. The threats I mean,
No one admits to making them, no one has heard them made,
But at G8 time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the ( fallen) wall between us once again.
We keep the ( wailing) wall between us.
To each the boulders that the sons of each other have thrown..
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
No fighting one another till someone says “go”
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of who‘ll-press-the-button game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is, we do not need the missile shield:
I think him all misspeak and rhetoric and I am easily offended..
My ragged minivans will never get across
And guzzle the oil under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good missile shields make good neighbors'.
Spring is the great Satan in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are radicals?
But here there are no radicals, your side possesses the extremists.
Before I built a missile shield I'd ask to know
Who I was shielding in or shielding out,
And to whom I was like to give a fence.
Something there is that doesn't love a missile shield,
That wants it down.' I could say Pacifists to him,
But it's not pacifists exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good missile shields make good neighbors."
Wonderful to see you
I was just really distracted and intended to post the "poem" on a thread at ER for my daughter to read. I can't explain my lack of thought processes
It really wasnt ready anyway, oneof thoese pseudo silly political rants that pop out when they shouldnt.
did you wanna read it? ali did, so Im putting it back for a little while.
great to see you aroundthese parts
xoxox
NJ
~~~~
pirated from mending wall by robert frost
Something there is that doesn't love a missile shield,
That compels the sun-damping nuclear winter from under it,
And spills the rants and raves against the sun,
And makes silent threats even the dead might understand
The work of haters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have Osama out of hiding,
To yelp the pleasing dogs. The threats I mean,
No one admits to making them, no one has heard them made,
But at G8 time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the ( fallen) wall between us once again.
We keep the ( wailing) wall between us.
To each the boulders that the sons of each other have thrown..
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
No fighting one another till someone says “go”
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of who‘ll-press-the-button game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is, we do not need the missile shield:
I think him all misspeak and rhetoric and I am easily offended..
My ragged minivans will never get across
And guzzle the oil under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good missile shields make good neighbors'.
Spring is the great Satan in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are radicals?
But here there are no radicals, your side possesses the extremists.
Before I built a missile shield I'd ask to know
Who I was shielding in or shielding out,
And to whom I was like to give a fence.
Something there is that doesn't love a missile shield,
That wants it down.' I could say Pacifists to him,
But it's not pacifists exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good missile shields make good neighbors."
Last edited:
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