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Poetry

Leigha Offline

[Image: 2fSmCeY.jpg]
[Image: 2fSmCeY.jpg]



ETA: There’s a typo in this image. Should read “your”’and not “you” fingertips.
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Leigha Offline
(once like a spark)

if strangers meet
life begins-
not poor not rich
(only aware)
kind neither
nor cruel
(only complete)
i not not you
not possible;
only truthful
-truthfully,once
if strangers(who
deep our most are
selves)touch
forever

(and so to dark)

ee cummings
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Zinjanthropos Offline
The Snowflake Test (un)inspired me

Participation Medal

I biked the race and finished last
Exhausted and completely gassed
Parents watched and loudly cheered
As the finish line appeared
Exactly as I feared it be
All 32 in front of me
For all my effort, all my pedal
A Participation Medal
Dangling from a ribbon red
Round my neck, over my head
Symbolic of the world I'm in
Where one can't lose and one can't win
They mean well, they really do
Can't upset me, 'cause I knew
I had no chance, so don't pretend
I won't believe it in the end
Matters not, outright success
Or change my Plus Fours for a dress
Can I be sure that they won't mind
A sensitive entitled kind
Can't fool me, I know who won
This race ain't over, it's just begun
I won something on this day
A long awaited chance to play.
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Secular Sanity Offline
(Nov 27, 2020 09:15 PM)Zinjanthropos Wrote: The Snowflake Test (un)inspired me

Participation Medal

I biked the race and finished last
Exhausted and completely gassed
Parents watched and loudly cheered
As the finish line appeared
Exactly as I feared it be
All 32 in front of me
For all my effort, all my pedal
A Participation Medal
Dangling from a ribbon red
Round my neck, over my head
Symbolic of the world I'm in
Where one can't lose and one can't win
They mean well, they really do
Can't upset me, 'cause I knew
I had no chance, so don't pretend
I won't believe it in the end
Matters not, outright success
Or change my Plus Fours for a dress
Can I be sure that they won't mind
A sensitive entitled kind
Can't fool me, I know who won
This race ain't over, it's just begun
I won something on this day
A long awaited chance to play.

Not bad, Zinman. I enjoyed it.
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Zinjanthropos Offline
Thanks SS. Does any kid save their participation medals or does the prize just fall and get lost within the sofa? No matter how much the adults try to hide the score from the kids, fact is the participants know. Stopped by one of those mini-soccer games while in BC recently (covid didn't seem to be a problem) where they don't keep score. While I was watching someone came along and asked me who's winning. It was halftime and I told him to cast his eyes at the sidelines of both teams and see which team was having more fun. Kids aren't stupid, but the parents?
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C C Offline
(Dec 1, 2020 05:50 PM)Secular Sanity Wrote: Not bad, Zinman. I enjoyed it.


Uh-huh, another one I missed at the time. "You can leave that fishing pole be for a few minutes, Jenny-Lou. Ain't no catfish gwine bite it during that spell."

(Dec 1, 2020 07:50 PM)Zinjanthropos Wrote: ... Does any kid save their participation medals or does the prize just fall and get lost within the sofa? ...


Hmm... Even Pre-K is a black box. Can't recollect them hauling home the "inclusiveness" gold to fill the trophy shelves with.

Does this call for child-neglect parental guilt or is it just a result of our being outcasts living on the fringe of Millennial ceremonial practices?

Wish they still had gypsies on those late night fright romps. Pretty sure these two don't have a scrying orb to tell me whether I'm damned or not.
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Leigha Offline
(Jan 11, 2021 08:08 AM)Love Wrote:
(Oct 4, 2016 04:52 AM)Leigha Wrote: By request, a poetry thread for this science village. Post your favorite poetry here, as well as any of your own creations. 


A Dream Within A Dream  
by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow --
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand --
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep -- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

But not your favourite poem?

No, not my favorite...if I had to narrow down to just one, it'd be ''A Valentine,'' by Edgar Allan Poe. A poem about a mysterious, secret love affair. When we think of Edgar Allan Poe, we sometimes don't consider that he could be swept away by romance, as any other human. His poetry simply doesn't exude affection, in that way, but this one does. There's also a secret message embedded within this poem.
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Secular Sanity Offline
THE CAUCUS RACE AND A LONG TALE

"Fury said to a mouse, that he met in the house, 'Let us both go to law: I will prosecute you - Come, I'll take no denial; We must have a trial: For really this morning I've nothing to do.' Said the mouse to the cur, 'Such a trial, dear Sir, with no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.' 'I'll be judge, I'll be jury,' Said cunning old Fury: 'I'll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death.'"


The race-course is marked in sort of a circle (the shape doesn’t matter). Everyone is placed here and there...and easily offended! When they are all dry, the race is over. "But who has won?" Everyone and they must all be given prizes—but from whom? From you—that’s who!

The caucus race points out the absurdity of politics. Everyone is running in circles with a great deal of pomp and circumstance without actually accomplishing anything.

They begged the Mouse to tell them something more.

"You promised to tell me your history, you know," said Alice, "and why it is you hate—C and D," she added in a whisper, half afraid that it would be offended again.

The original version of The Mouse’s Tale.

We lived beneath the mat, warm and snug and fat, but one woe of that was the cat. To our joys a clog in our eyes a fog. On our hearts a log was the dog. When the cat’s away then the mice will play. But alas one day (so they say) came the dog and cat hunting for a rat and crushed the mice all flat. Each one as he sat underneath the mat warm and snug and fat. Think of that!
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