Two for six. (a wink to xxoo)

Posted by Spinkane 11 years, 1 month ago to Entertainment
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You give me love mumps,
and twirling toe.
We have come
a long way to go.
Candy Dot drops,
sugar beet baby.
It’s a stumble spell,
in a tumble bee.
Pitch pine
dark chocolate
and later
moonlight.
Two four six,
sleep knot tight.

Stitch

I’m a sucker for poems, I apologize.
I rationalize posting here with.. I created this! (In all humility)


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  • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
    Try this villanelle for size:

    This Ancient Rune, This Honored Sign

    This ancient rune, this honored sign
    Signals still to that which seeks
    This living, restful savored wine.

    Often subtly wrought, in fine
    Gold, silver, jewels speaks
    This ancient rune, this honored sign.

    Eros, patron to the wondrous vine
    And fruit from which, winsome peeks
    This living, restful, savored wine.

    When quiet made and bound divine,
    Time seldom mars with weathered streaks
    This ancient rune, this honored sign.

    Drink deeply then and taste define
    Where , in the mind, softly wreaks
    This living, restful, savored wine.

    The two are one, to one combine.
    They are those to which honor speaks.
    This ancient rune, this honored sign;
    This living, restful, savored wine.

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    • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
      A goblet of wine and the language of love. It’s very mystical the first time through, great imaging.
      Hey! I have a suggestion. Go to file/Options/Proofing/auto correct options/capitalize first letter of sentences. You can turn this off and the poem will read the way you originally wrote it.
      I enjoyed your poem.
      It reminded me of a poem I wrote. You’ll be the first person I’ve shared this poem with, it’s just fun.
      Runic Romance

      I was counting on match sticks
      to show me a sign.
      Deciphering tea leaves and
      Turkish coffee grinds.
      With the outlook uncertain
      in the magic eight
      while the stylus on Ouija
      seemed to hesitate,
      I looked into the mirror,
      mirror on the wall.
      That’s when I was certain
      you didn’t call.

      You didn’t call me baby,
      you didn’t call me back.
      You called the witch doctor,
      about our heart attack.
      If you found your true calling
      about what was meant to be.
      Then I’m lost and I’m falling
      into apathy.

      At the séance, tarot cards
      seemed to suggest
      the specter among us, I
      would never rest.
      I’m hopelessly spellbound
      by your lottery charms.
      It’s hypnotic how I feel
      you right here in my arms.

      I hear you call me baby,
      captured in my trance.
      You’re calling me sweetheart
      in our runic romance.

      Stitch
      Can you dig it?
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      • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
        That was the original form of the poem. It is a villanelle the most famous of which is Dylan Thomas' 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night'. Look at the rhyme scheme and you can see why it the most difficult form to write. Also, the first and third lines must repeat is the third line of the following stanzas with them repeating in the last two lines of the final stanza. Do you get the significant thrust of the poem? (Hint: altar)

        I can see two or three possible connotations, the most promising of which is lover who has either died or disappeared with no word or trace. The writer is yearning for what was and , most likely, will never have again.
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        • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
          I get the format, it’s cool, I looked up villanelle before I read the poem. As far as the thrust, I could say Chalice and the blood of Christ but the love Goddess threw me for a curve. It could be a guy drinking some Boones farm out of a Flintstones Jelly jar thinking about his old lady. To me poetry is about emotion as opposed to conveying a specific idea. This poem inspired me with the wonder of wine in the transformation of it from a vine and the “spirit” it holds also the precious metals and gems of its container. Eros suggested a beautiful woman, which entered the imagery (or a dude if you go that way, there’s nothing wrong with that). The ending I had to decide was the “two are one, to one combine” the man/woman or Goblet/wine; I chose the latter. The format worked great. As far as that goes and keeping on topic, what’ll really blow your mind up is:
          Keeping time, time, time,
          In a sort of Runic rhyme,
          To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
          From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
          Bells, bells, bells -
          From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
          Get that poem stuck in your head, Poe was crazy.
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          • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
            The poem was originally written to celebrate the joining of two people in the ceremony of marriage. However, I can see how the Chalice and the wine might play but the imagery of the bread is missing. For the allusion to work, the elements for combining them to become the body of Christ, they would have to both be present. And the allusion to Eros would also take it out of the realm of sacred and move it to the mundane. The wine is allegorical to the pure spirit of the feeling of lovers for one another and the rest and solace each finds in the other. The wrought ' in gold, silver, jewels is a reference to the wedding bands given at the altar as pledges of their fidelity to each other.
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            • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
              Here is one I wrote in high school, over 40 years ago. Although there is a specific image invoked, there is also a specific emotion to be felt.

              Aftermath

              Broken, shattered, twisted.
              The trees stand like skeletons,
              A sea of mud encompassing.
              Here, there, a broken
              Mangled body or maybe
              A hand, an arm. a leg.
              These remain after the
              Final day of the
              Last battle of the war.
              The armistice is signed.
              "The war is over!!!"
              Soldiers deliriously shout,
              Sing, and dance in the sea of mud.
              "The war is over,
              The war is over!!!"
              The soldiers dance and sing.
              The shell falls, unheard.
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              • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
                Anguish!! I love it! To me that’s you letting go and letting your emotion pour out onto paper. I’m so glad you sent that poem. Coincidently I wrote a poem titled After Math, but I can’t get into that. I did write one I’d like to share that has similarities to your Aftermath. Plus it describes the Dystopia after Dagny finally comes to her senses.
                Gray

                The fuzz, on the critters littering the highway
                swayed in the wind.
                Occasionally,
                a bird dropped out of the sky.
                Tired, the starving trees
                quietly laid down.
                Color, gently released by the pale yellow grasp
                of the suns trembling rays, drained into the ground.
                Down at the pier,
                the pylons were swollen.
                The planks of the dock became mushy.
                Happy healthy boats submerged one by one,
                blip, blip off the barely perceptible horizon.
                Planes crazily corkscrewed through the air,
                auguring into the water, without a splash.
                Back on land, worms wriggled everywhere,
                drowning in the gray slip
                that mixed with the white grass.
                One boot from a pair of goulashes
                offered refuge to an oozing frog,
                to sick to croak.
                Telephone poles
                drunkenly propped themselves on sticky wires.
                With a sinking feeling in my stomach,
                I called you in the city.
                After you informed me
                the diamond on your ring
                lost its luster,
                I mushed the handset into the cradle,
                like a lump of clay.
                All at once
                the moisture fell out of the air.
                I looked at the careless sky,
                stars swirled in
                as the sun went black.
                Remember to forget to remember.

                Stitch 1992

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                • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
                  Ooooh, the misty malaise in this. Reminds me of the History channel series, 'Life After Man' Couple of nits to pick: it should be augering, not auguring. Auguring is fortunetelling or prophesying. An auger drills holes in wood, etc. Also, the frog was 'too' sick to croak. If you take the slang meaning of croak, it takes on a whole new dimension.
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                  • Posted by $ johnrobert2 11 years, 1 month ago
                    Okay. Dope on this one.

                    Thoughts
                    Only those concerned, listen well.
                    The rest, doubly well.
                    How now to die in peace?
                    You cannot. For now, only in
                    violence, by your own hand
                    Or another's. Rarely die in
                    Peace, you do. Though such
                    We may say we rarely do.
                    Is not death even a violence unknown?
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                    • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
                      I know, it’s like a squirrel’s going about his business and he’s got some nuts and he’s going around all purposeful; in like complete objective reality and this Eagle just snatches him up and that’s it. But what else did he have planned? What was the next move he was about to make? It’s like yeah. That’s what this poem led me to think about.
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      • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
        I dig. it's been too long since a poetry class, so I'll leave the important ciphering up to the experts. I enjoy how your poems often mix a sense of playfulness with a sense of loss or regret. I also enjoy how you mix up idioms and turn them on their head.
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  • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
    Thank you,
    I’m getting that Kindle to read your book. Dale’s perspective is something I know little about and am interested in knowing more and I like your style of writing. Everybody has their strengths, I’m a novice here; but working hard to catch up. Poetry I’m good at. Sincerely, John
    P.S. in the movie I identify with the guy who worked with John Galt and fixed the train before Dagny took off in the plane.
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    • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
      oh, and I am honored you ponied up for a Kindle to read my book. One thing you'll enjoy-there are thousands of free titles -most of the classics_and a lending library.
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      • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
        My son gave me his old Kindle, the battery was dead. I also gave him Atlas Shrugged which he couldn’t find when I asked him for it so I could re-read about Jeff Allen. Being a Jeff Allen type I can easily change a battery; the kindle is disposable! What a world. So, yes, I just bought a Kindle online; somehow they knew I reviewed your book (NSA probably told ‘em) and the cover was on every page I viewed. Even though I now need to purchase Atlas Shrugged; I’ll read POJ first.
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        • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
          that other part is kinda annoying.
          you will refer to AS alot I bet. I do. the search function and the highlight feature is great. also the note taking feature.
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    • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
      you have mentioned that before, spin. why do you think the engineer had not yet gone on strike?
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      • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
        Just by the movie you could argue, he wasn’t invited; that’d be missing the point and not trying.
        When you recognize the subtle evil men are capable of you could adopt the philosophy of FTW and drink to oblivion, which in the book Jeff Allan did (and me in real life).
        Like Dagny, he didn't realize the point of no return had been passed and he hoped (denied reality) things would turn around.
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        • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
          denying reality. we all do it in our lives. even if we are shouting out what is really going on, we can deny reality. It adds to the pain. He knew Galt was gone. He knew Galt was highly capable. In that sense he had more information than a Wyatt etc. As a matter of fact, he may well have worked on those trains along side JG and didn't notice.
          What have I not noticed? What big picture have I tuned out? Even the hardest, smartest working individual is weighing effort in their own life with putting themselves out there and speaking up. Maybe if they just work harder, they'll do fine despite the fact they know everything is going the wrong direction. lol kinda reminds me of parenting. Obvious and easy in theory and hard and sometimes overwhelming in execution.
          excellent discussion, spin
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          • Posted by 11 years, 1 month ago
            I am a little intimidated articulating in a room full of authors, but I am confident in my recognition of reality; continually evolving by suffering the consequences of denying it and by willing to recognize it.
            “You can deny reality but you can’t deny the consequences of denying reality.” Dale eluded to social reality as you quoted recently, and that’s the rub. Social reality is the mob and the majority. I focused on Thomas Sowell’s quote by Sdesepio. They don’t know how to think, they only know how to feel. Think of how a suggestion could be framed to persuade you to come to a conclusion by swaying the way you feel and you don’t think it over, you go with how it makes you feel. There’s that Evil Ayn Rand talks about.
            Thank you very much, you should play Dagny in part 3.
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            • Posted by khalling 11 years, 1 month ago
              spin,
              I was thinking of myself when I wrote that. I often deny the consequences of reality when I become overwhelmed. I try to adjust, sometimes I fail, try to figure out why and move on. I used to beat myself up over it, now less so. Dale never had the "beat myself up over it gene" and often beats me up over beating myself up. lol you know how that goes...I just want a dag-gone good Dagny. They better give us some rushes so we can weigh in. ha!
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