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ASF Poetry Thread

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(cont)

if you go to the n-th degree
so the racecar is doing mack 3
as the sonic boom hits,
the race flag’s torn to strips
wet with flagman’s involuntary pee.

if you go to speed c – (quite immense)
so the shuttle appears (but from whence)
all the light hits at once
though it flew here from France
with an Xrated blueness intense.

(lol, probably done that one to death ... moving on)

PS the moon is 1.28 light seconds away = 1.28 x 300,000km
Paris (if it were a straight line ;) ) - is only 17,000km = 0.057 light seconds away
speed of sound 340 m/sec (sea level etc)
speed of light 300,000km/sec = roughly "Mack one million", or one million times the speed of sound

Sonic Boom
Carl Sagan Cosmos - The speed of light
 
RATS, FOYLE IS FINISHED

This 40's style fella named Foyle
had a manner most markedly royal
this wartime McGiver
said "I need a driver
a redhead, who's lovely and loyal".

he said "I can't drive", well he could
and she didn't dob , well she should
he'd be caught out and charged
and probably discharged
on bad behaviour for good. ;)
 
Hamlet Act I, scene III
Advice to a son going overseas.

Perhaps it should end, ......

and this above all, If you go into politics,
resist the call, and sniff you not on seats.
Click to expand...

http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/08/04/2323421.htm
Buswell announces resignation
Click to expand...

http://www.rhymezone.com/r/gwic.cgi...rd=thou+canst+not+then+be+false+to+any+man.#w

LORD POLONIUS: Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee!
And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Click to expand...
 
THERES A NOTE ON THE WALL NEAR THE PEARLY GATES

This trivial three score ten year dash
allotted us each in turn
and after that it’s ash to ash
recycled and/or burned
what agenda do we set ourselves?
what goals? what meaningful menu?
those thousands of thoughts in our mental shelves
don’t let them die within you.

Just scratch em on a piece of parchment,
flick em to “the fouls”
fired furnaced thoughts with flame enlarged
(let the embers warm our souls)
Don’t let that painting? maybe book?
untold feelings ? die within you,
Cos when our eyes close on that final look
there’s no “to be continued”

There’s a note on the wall near the Pearly Gate
“Did you tell those behind that you loved em
or your contemplations – well it’s just too late
to pull them out now whence you shoved em
How much you enjoyed your time in the band
and the tunes you sang together
and rejoice together in the hourglass sand
that survived the testing-est weather.”

“Don’t go till you’ve penned some innermost scrawl
where your heart and your soul like to play
so that when you see this note on this wall
you aren’t thinking “One day I’ll say
It was fun, it was fine, forever sublime
with a magical family and wife” -
when you get to the top of this final climb
may you say “what a view!, what a life!”
 
POSTSCRIPT : DONATING ORGANS ;)

There is a way at the end of the day
that "you-in-part" can continue,
pin a note to your vest or your dying chest
that they're welcome to "recycle bin you"
no indian givers, your lungs and your livers
they'll take all your stuffing and skin you,
and some squaw or some brave, will serenade your grave
with guitar strings made from your sinew. :)

 
whenever I wake up before the flaming alarm, I end up with another contribution to the world's trivia in my head ...

THE RECYCLED ORGAN RECITAL

I’d happily pass on my kidney and heart,
but ideally I’d add a condition,
that the person who scored the replacement part
continued this crazy tradition,
so, in time, I might see, man act sensibly,
on the value of entitled “vitals”
and man finally twigs, and sings to new gigs,
like “recycled organ recitals” :rolleyes:

PS "vitals" as in ...
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&q=Vitals
 
ODE TO THE WHITE LINE "Scrolling" DOWN THE CENTRE OF THE STREET BETWEEN THE CITY AND BONDI

70,000 couldn't be wrong
despite all the tears that were shed
despite all the calves and knees that went "sprong"
and the great bulbous blisters that bled.

... There's a cemetery half way along
that removed any doubt in my head
and it's not about times, either short or long
but in short, you're a long time dead. :eek:

That's the challenge I still have to meet
to seize this day and this sky,!!
after bitter the mundane looks sweet
to my half philosophic eye,

.... White line on the scrolling street
this war's between you and I
over whether you're still rolling under my feet
when I roll over to die. ;)

Note Apologies to the Beijing opening for copying the concept of a scrolling street. :2twocents
viz "White line on the scrolling street"
 
PS Apologies for any accidental offence to the family of the young man (26yo) who died from heart attack 200m from the finish line today. Very sad.
 
ON GAMBLING ACCORDING TO THE MATHS

The maths said go for the motsa
but the dice came down the wrong way
now I've got this bill - in fact lotsa
and no money to bludiwell pay . :eek:
 
Shakespears Verse of the Day :-

JULIET: Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

ROMEO: It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

JULIET: Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
It is some meteor that the sun exhales..

ROMEO: Chrissake Juliet - Blind Freddy can see that's the sun
and here come your mad brothers - I'll give you a call ok?

http://www.rhymezone.com/r/gwic.cgi?Word=tide&Path=shakespeare/tragedies/romeoandjuliet/iii_v//


repost :-
TYPICAL OLD FASHIONED LOVE AFFAIR - 16th CENTRURY.

they Met in their teens when the world was green, and their Heads were impetuous yet,
and the Sad forebodings to them unseen, of Montague and Capulet,
and it Grew from fling to zing to keen, to Flames of eternal debt,
till those Flaming brothers intervene, on behalf of the the Gang and the Jet.

at Threat from the mother, of pain to the other, they Parted reluctant sad,
one Day had elapsed - how they missed one another, to a frenzy bordering mad!!,
"THIS SHOULDER", he pleaded to bullying brothers, "CUT IT OFF!! if you so abhore them !!
for it's Wet from her teardrops cried in her blubbering, Sobs - and I ADORE THEM!"

"Cut off my hands!" he insisted again, for they Only want to mould her!
"Cut off my arms!" while I'm locked in this den, for they only want to enfold her!,
"CUT OUT MINE EYES!! poor excuses of men, for they only want to behold her,
"and Do it all now in preference to then - 'fore I Get another hour older."

.............
Well.. she Pictured it all in her fair young mind , that he'd Been severely reduced,
Legless, shoulderless, armless, blind - and she'd STILL NOT been seduced !!
"Poison me brothers!", she said to her kin -.... "ahhh Give that cup here you great NONG!"
then she gulped it - twas real !! - the poison went in !!,
THEN ...the trick knife didn't go "sprong" !!!!!.

Bleeding and pleading and dying and dead, pitied and sorely shaken up,
her Last dying gasp as he leant o'er her bed..
............."Today too late I have waken up"
"Of COURSE they were right !! I now confess, when they Said it would all end in strife,
and i TRIED to tell you - but oh NOOO, you knew best!!....Bloody men, bloody mess, bloody life.!!"

After which ...HE leant back, bellowed "HELL WITH THE REST, SAINT PETER!! who needs formal wife!!
Please mate - best honeymoon suite - two guests!!!" ,
......... and he plunged in his heart with his knife.
Click to expand...
 
Can't think of a Bible verse or a Koran/Quran quote,
so maybe this Pope's quote will suffice. :eek:

An Essay on Criticism (1711), line 225
Alexander Pope

So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try,
Mount o'er the Vales, and seem to tread the Sky;
Th' Eternal Snows appear already past,
And the first Clouds and Mountains seem the last:
But those attain'd, we tremble to survey
The growing Labours of the lengthen'd Way,
Th' increasing Prospect tires our wandring Eyes,
Hills peep o'er Hills, and Alps on Alps arise!
Click to expand...

http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Mountains
http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/Texts/essay.html
 
DID THE UNHEARD MAKE A NOISE - and DID THE UNWITNESSED HAPPEN?

When succubi creep into windows at night
and cavort with middle aged boys
who wake up unknowing – all evidence out of sight
hey! … does a falling tree make any noise.? :eek::eek3::eek:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Succubus
In Western medieval legend, a succubus (plural succubi) is a demon, who takes the form of a beautiful woman to seduce men, especially monks[1], in dreams to have sexual intercourse. They draw energy from the men to sustain themselves, often until the point of exhaustion .... of the victim.
Click to expand...
 
VICE PRESIDENTIAL HOPEFULS AND THEIR VICES

It seems electability is partly policy based
how long you’ve been under scrutiny , and how many questions you’ve faced
and how good your brain and your logic, and where your heartbeat fits
but if that doesn’t work
there’s the last minute lurk
of a cake-jumping broad from the back of Bourke
who shoots polar bears from the spire in the Kirk
………………….. and get her to flash her t1ts.
 

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TIMING HAS A LOT TO DO WITH OUTCOME OF RAIN DANCE. (Chief Sitting Bull)

I prayed to my God may he give his big nod
to send some rain our way
and I prayed through those years where we only had tears
to grow a small crop of hay,
.........
but thank God I believed - cos the Heavens then heaved
and the rain gauge filled to the brim
but the poor damned frogs, in the tanks and the bogs
all drowned – they’d forgot how to swim. :eek:
 
For you shooters so hale and so hearty
there is now a trans global shooter’s party
vote Palin and Putin !!
up with rootin and shootin !!
(please bring back the goons moriarty ;))
 
THE MAN-MADE CONTRIBUTION TO THE UNIVERSE

you dont need any watchmaker to engineer these rocks
that swirl around the galaxies to ever changing clocks
should one explode, do up in smoke, collapse to a black hole
the whole thing just adjusts a bit, in some expanding role. (roll?)

you dont need any puppetteer to tell men how to act
it's obvious that chimps do just as well with praps more tact
but if you want to say some "God" designed it more or less,
..then please agree the man-made part is a God-almighty mess. :eek:
 
speaking of gallups..:rolleyes:

https://www.aussiestockforums.com/forums/showthread.php?p=195670&highlight=galloped#post195670

HOW I BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM AIX TO GHENT (OR VICE VERSA) = Parady
RJ Yeatman & W C Sellar

I sprang to the rollocks and Jorrocks and me
And I galloped, you galloped, he galloped, we galloped all three...
Not a word to each other; we kept changing place,
Neck to neck, back to front, ear to ear, face to face;
And we yelled once or twice, when we heard a clock chime,
'Would you kindly oblige us, Is that the right time?'
As I galloped, you galloped, he galloped, we galloped, ye galloped, they two shall have galloped; etc
Click to expand...
 
I'll post this, mainly for the information of ZZDad,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQvDmz4MQB4&NR=1

"Lindsay Radford narrates a classic Australian poem"

CLANCY OF THE OVERFLOW - A.B. "Banjo" Paterson

I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just "on spec", addressed as follows: "Clancy, of The Overflow".

And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written in a thumbnail dipped in tar)
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
"Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are."

In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving "down the Cooper" where the western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.

I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.

And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.

And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.

And I somehow fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cashbook and the journal -
But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of "The Overflow".

The Bulletin, 21 December 1889.
Click to expand...
 

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