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Post by chackattack81 on Jan 30, 2005 11:37:55 GMT -6
That's fantastic!...Hope it's a good reason and If not....writing will help soothe youxxx
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 30, 2005 14:38:40 GMT -6
So Chack....when you gonna convince your girl to post some more of her stuff?
Ann........?!!
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Post by chackattack81 on Jan 30, 2005 14:39:48 GMT -6
I try Scrappy...honetsly I do...we shall see what happens.... She's coming up to see me on friday...so maybe I can persuade her some more ;D
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 30, 2005 14:40:47 GMT -6
I'm not going to ask what sort of bribery you intend to use......lol
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Post by chackattack81 on Jan 30, 2005 14:45:39 GMT -6
lol
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Jan 30, 2005 14:49:27 GMT -6
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Post by dixielandyankee on Feb 5, 2005 8:39:35 GMT -6
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
My favourite Shakespeare sonnet...number 116.
dixie
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Post by Joxcenia on Feb 5, 2005 21:07:54 GMT -6
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 5, 2005 21:12:17 GMT -6
Lovely Dixie. I just love Uncle Willy.
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Post by Phalon on Feb 14, 2005 12:08:12 GMT -6
I checked out a book of Horace's poetry at the library, "the Odes of Horace, a modern translation." Quite different then the translations from my Dictionary of Quotations; the library book being more lyrical then the literal translations of the dictionary.
Fun to see the difference in some of my favorites. One quote I used in my signature here for a long time, (or there - the old Whoosh), "So long as youth is green and testy old age is far off", becomes "Grey hairs are still far distant, attend to the Dance-floor, the heart's sweet longings." Hhhmmm....I like them both.
And this is one of my favorites so far. From Odes Book III. xxix
"Call him happy And lord of his own soul who every evening Can say, "Today I have lived. Tomorrow Jove may blot the sky with cloud Or fill it with pure sunshine, yet he cannot Devalue what has once been held as precious, Or tarnish or melt back The gold the visiting hour has left behind."
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 14, 2005 12:10:57 GMT -6
Nice. But you should think about writing some of your own. I know it's in you somewhere. LOL
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Post by Phalon on Feb 14, 2005 12:12:17 GMT -6
Oh, no, no, no....I'll just sit back, watch and read.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 14, 2005 12:14:38 GMT -6
Do I hear silent clucking? LMAO
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Post by Phalon on Feb 14, 2005 12:19:20 GMT -6
Pbbllltttt!!
Ok, how's this...
She sits back, Hounded to death Not able to devour In peace, The Cheezits which she craves. God, the hound is annoying.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 14, 2005 12:20:47 GMT -6
WOOF!!!! ;D
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Post by Phalon on Feb 14, 2005 12:26:42 GMT -6
The Hound of Hell, Bays at my door, Relentless, never-ending, Until I throw her a bone. Bidding her to go back - Go back From whence she came.
And leave me eat my Cheez-its in peace, Once more.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 14, 2005 12:29:31 GMT -6
Throw in a leather collar and you got me pegged. LMAO
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Post by chackattack81 on Feb 14, 2005 17:54:22 GMT -6
Kinky Scrappy my dear....kinky ;D
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Post by gwenyver on Feb 14, 2005 20:18:14 GMT -6
To Touch Your Lips to Mine by Christopher Ward reaching sighing -smile slightly skewed palm to knuckles, skin to skin... slid gently up your arms feel the tingling touch your blue eyes locked to mine -goose bumps ticklingticklingtickling shivering your spine beneath my hand, brushing your hair, fingertips caressing the nape of your neck rubbing, feeling breathing, beating moving into a pulsing rhythm... until- it all becomes a dream of washed away cares then - leaning slowly in to breathe a kiss, to touch your lips... to mine
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Post by gwenyver on Feb 14, 2005 20:21:18 GMT -6
She is Like Catching Lightening by PoeticKnight Elusive is she
Whom I try to touch Or describe for my mind To somehow memorize every detail So as to emblazon upon my eye And keep her there forever Or at least until I die
Is it that my hand is too slow, Or too far to actually reach? It could be my reaction delayed By the desire which makes me seek She has so many dark secrets In which I wish of her to speak
And when she lights up She lightens all the dark clouds With brilliant radiance Taunting those who are angry and proud And dressing them up In a bright, burning blue shroud
She is fire in the sky She is electric heat in the air All things love and worship her All things everywhere And I am just one small being Who wants to catch her there
Though she burns my reaching hand If it should stray too possibly near Such concentrated intensity Yet I do not cower in useless fear Not even from her anger, As I shield my deafened ears
I could spend eternity Chasing her through the sky Grasping at nothing finally, Yet still willing to try As long as the chance remains To catch her somehow before I die
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Post by gwenyver on Feb 14, 2005 20:25:15 GMT -6
I Want, I Want, I Want by Poertree I want, I want, I want Yes, I want her too - And yet I would not want what she'd become if caged against her will, Her freedom is a part of her.
You cannot cage a lion and then expect to find the graceful beast that once ruled o'er the veldt, Nor clip the feathered pinions and then expect the falcon's stoop to end in other than a small sad bloodied heap.
She is not yours or mine to tote around for pleasure or for gain, She is simply one of us, another searcher in life's dream. And 'tis not for any to impede another's quest but rather kindly help around the maze, So that in some future time when our ways part we can proudly say (each to the other) that for a space "I gifted you my heart".
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Post by dixielandyankee on Feb 15, 2005 9:16:11 GMT -6
An appropriate poem...its called 'Valentine'... Not a red rose or a satin heart. I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. Not a cute card or kissogram. I give you an onion. Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips, possessive and faithful as we are, for as long as we are. Take it. Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring, if you like. Lethal. Its scent will cling to your fingers, cling to your knife. -- Carol Ann Duffy ...its not exactly Hallmark but I love her work...
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Ann Thrax
Whooshite Apprentice
Go horsey!!!
Posts: 117
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Post by Ann Thrax on Feb 17, 2005 19:05:46 GMT -6
Here's my latest offering. I only finished it a matter of minutes ago, so I haven't had the chance to edit it to death That makes me more nervous than you could imagine. I hope you enjoy anyway........ FUNNY CHILD
She was a funny child. In boys shoes that never refused the tree-climb dare. Fearless but never reckless, she simply enjoyed the height. Back on the ground, she stepped politely over the football And ran off to play house instead. Each role became her - mother, father, daughter, She played them all with equal vigour.
She was a funny child. Pigtails like antennae with pink tourniquet that never refused to stay bowed. Unassuming but never shy, she enjoyed the praise. At home, she quietly accepted her place without question And ran to school in eager anticipation. Words came easily – dinosaurs, spaceships, autumn, Stories that made her mother teary-eyed with pride.
She was a funny girl. In old women’s shoes that refused to be fashionable. Creative but never confident, she hated her difference. In secret, she wrote herself a myriad of other lives And ran off to hide in her favourite fiction. Reality became painful – distant, muted, scapegoat, Pigeonholes that cramped her to the core.
She was a funny girl. In Dr Martin boots and hair that refused to stay one colour. Perceptive but never outspoken, she enjoyed the diversity. In debate, she spoke only when necessity loomed And hurried off to transcribe her true opinion. Education became religion – poets, writers, dreamers, Honesty that made her weep at her own deceit.
She was a funny young woman. In white high-heels that refused to be comfortable. Dutiful but never satisfied, she hated the contradiction. In company, she painted a smile for her chosen status And skulked away to feed each new obsession. Attraction became infatuation – actress, singer, friend, Longing that made her question her very self.
In soft suede boots she walks a new path. With wild dark hair, that refuses to be tamed. Competent but never over-confident, she welcomes the encouragement. In reality, she’s loved beyond her wildest dreams And runs headstrong into the glorious abyss. Heroism becomes a fore’thought – mother, writer, poet, Acceptance that finally makes her glad to be alive.
She’s a funny child.Stephanie Murphy
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Post by chackattack81 on Feb 17, 2005 19:09:07 GMT -6
THAT'S MY BABY!!!!! WOW!!!
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 17, 2005 19:10:15 GMT -6
Awww....wow. I don't have the words. Wow.....just wow. Wish I had talent like that.
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Post by chackattack81 on Feb 17, 2005 19:16:27 GMT -6
Erm...you DO! ;D....just post...we all know you got itx
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Ann Thrax
Whooshite Apprentice
Go horsey!!!
Posts: 117
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Post by Ann Thrax on Feb 17, 2005 19:17:23 GMT -6
Wow....i'm so glad you liked it That's probably the most personal thing I've ever written......I can't tell you how how wonderful it feels to know it was worthwhile.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Feb 17, 2005 19:17:52 GMT -6
And might I say to Ann....it's about damn time! I was thinking Gwen was going to hog the whole thing.... ;D
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Post by chackattack81 on Feb 17, 2005 19:18:55 GMT -6
;D...go kids...fill our hearts with poetry!
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Ann Thrax
Whooshite Apprentice
Go horsey!!!
Posts: 117
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Post by Ann Thrax on Feb 17, 2005 19:20:20 GMT -6
I've read, and re-read everything Gwen's posted on here....and loved every word of it. She's got a gift there. I'm just happy to be in such good company.
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