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Inspired by another thread the question is "Who are your favorite poets"?
For me it would be: Robert Service Kipling Poe
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You're asking the wrong crowd my friend, unless you know of any racist/church hating poets.
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Charlie Hendron Baxter Black Waddie Mitchell Bruce Kiskadoon
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I'll admit to not being a real poetry guy, but I do like to read some from time to time. Favorite poets would include Longfellow, Kipling, Browning, Keats and Burns.
Sam......
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I have ran across a few pretty good schit house poets.
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Kipling, Frost, and the Bard himself, of course. Chaucer's Canterbury Tales but not much of his other work.
I was an English Lit major in college, but much preferred both later English and American writers. Couldn't stand poets like Shelley.
Cleverly disguised as a responsible adult.
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Robert Service
Whoever wrote Beowulf ( A wind age, a wolf age. )
….and a poem written back in the ‘70’s by an Iroquois (??) tribal member about loneliness:
It’s not as bad as a leaky faucet, but like the faucet it has perhaps been dripping too long.
"...if the gentlemen of Virginia shall send us a dozen of their sons, we would take great care in their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Canasatego 1744
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A wise man is frequently humbled.
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"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." Hunter S. Thompson
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Campfire Kahuna
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Ex- USN (SS) '66-'69 Pro-Constitution. LET'S GO BRANDON!!!
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I have ran across a few pretty good schit house poets. Anonymous
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Patriotism (and religion) is the last refuge of a scoundrel.
Jesus: "Take heed that no man deceive you."
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Frost them Kipling. Like Dylan Thomas as well.
The way life should be.
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Robert Service I can't read his poetry on the Yukon without wanting to visit!
......the occasional hunter wielding a hopelessly inaccurate rifle, living by the fantastical rule that this cartridge can deliver the goods, regardless of shot placement or rifle accuracy. The correct term for this is minute of ego.
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Robert Service
There's strange things done in the midnight sun by the men that moil for gold The Arctic trails hold secret tales That would make your blood run cold The Northern Lights have seen strange sights But the strangest they ever did see Was the night on the marge of Lake LeBarge I cremated Sam McGee
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Proud NRA Life Member
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Henry Gibson... ... Used to recite poetry on Laugh-In.
(Only fellow boomers will remember this.)
"No good deed shall go unpunished!"
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Robert Service
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute Saloon The kid that tended the music box was hitting a ragtime tune When out of the night, which was forty below, and into the din and the glare There stumbled a miner, fresh from the creeks, dog dirty and loaded for bear
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GMAFB!! I graduated from HS in 1958!!
Even birds know not to land downwind!
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Recommend Googling and reading:
Ozymandias, Shelley
The Second Coming, Yeats
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_______________________________________________________ An 8 dollar driveway boy living in a T-111 shack
LOL
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I tried to think of a poet, but it was no use. The only one I could think of, was Dr. Seuss.
Black Cows Matter!
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Most people don't have what it takes to get old
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I tried to think of a poet, but it was no use. The only one I could think of, was Dr. Seuss. Aggggggh!!
Most people don't have what it takes to get old
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There once was a man from Nantucket....
“Some ideas are so stupid that only intellectuals believe them.” ― G. Orwell
"Why can't men kill big game with the same cartridges women and kids use?" _Eileen Clarke
"Unjust authority confers no obligation of obedience." - Alexander Hamilton
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A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!” “However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.”
Stephen Crane
Joyce Kilmer Robert Frost Omar Kyan Rudyard Kipling Brenden Behan Jonathan Swift
A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Wlm Shakespeare
“To expect defeat is nine-tenths of defeat itself. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is best to plan for all eventualities then believe in success, and only cross the failure bridge if you come to it." Francis Marion - The Swamp Fox
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Frost Emily dickinson Longfellow e e Cummings Siegfried sassoon Coleridge
I like many individual poems without liking the whole compass of their works
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Tarquin
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Poems: out out. Because I could not wait for death. Ryme if the ancient mariner. The man I shot. Evangeline. anyone lived in a pretty how town
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Left out inadvertently the painter with words, Lawrence Ferlinghetti
"suffering humanity" today might be painted as average Americans drowning in the materialism: "on a freeway fifty lanes wide/ a concrete continent/ spaced with bland billboards/ illustrating imbecile illusions of happiness" Coney Island of the Mind
“To expect defeat is nine-tenths of defeat itself. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is best to plan for all eventualities then believe in success, and only cross the failure bridge if you come to it." Francis Marion - The Swamp Fox
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always liked W.B. Yeats, especially this simple one…
“Youth and Age”
Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
Last edited by Doc_Holidude; 02/21/24.
Livin ain’t killed me yet, but it’s workin on it!
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Wallace McCrae who wrote Reincarnation!
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I don’t know. The original was first known as Jack Hall, circa 1719. It evolved through several iterations until the Vietnam era and is now titled Sammy Small. Dos Ringos recorded it 2008.
Don’t recite it at work unless you’re in the military, and drunk.
I am..........disturbed.
Concerning the difference between man and the jackass: some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass. -Twain
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Jack Kerouac - On The Road
"Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so, on the road."
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Thinking about it, I guess that I don't have a favorite poet; I just have favorite poems.
Not a real member - just an ordinary guy who appreciates being able to hang around and say something once in awhile.
Happily Trapped In the Past (Thanks, Joe)
Not only a less than minimally educated person, but stupid and out of touch as well.
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Elizabeth Walton
Mary had a little lamb His feet was black as soot And everywhere that Mary went His sooty foot he put.
That's as poetic as I get , unless you count John Prine as a poet.
Grumpy old man with a gun.....Do not touch . Better to be judged by 12 than carried by 6. Don't bother my monument and I'll leave yours alone.
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Robert Service Robert Frost Edgar Allen Poe Rudyard Kipling and a bunch of songwriters living and dying in 3/4 time
“A promise made is a debt unpaid”. Robert Service Words to live by if you’re a man of your word and handshake deals.
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Ulysses BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honour'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,— Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labour, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me— That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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Bore size is no substitute for shot placement and Power is no substitute for bullet performance. 458WIN
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Wallace McCrae who wrote Reincarnation! Slim you aint changed very much!!
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You're asking the wrong crowd my friend, unless you know of any racist/church hating poets. Kipling was mentioned in the OP.
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As far as my favorites: Kipling Homer Virgil Dante
Maybe not in that order. Every man should read Homer and Virgil.
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George Carlin Andrew Dice Clay Richard Pryor
My dog is a member of the "Turd Like Clan"
Covert Trail Cameras are JUNK
3 Time Dinkathon Champion #DinkGOAT
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The Raven ~ Edgar Allen Poe
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I have clinched and closed with the naked north I have learned to defy and defend Shoulder to shoulder we have fought it out Yet the wild must win in the end
Robert Service From a Yukon Jack ad
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Founder Ancient Order of the 1895 Winchester
"Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this desert city, Should in their own confines with forked heads Have their round haunches gored."
WS
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A Boy Named Sue! Cash made it famous!
“Life is life and fun is fun, but it's all so quiet when the goldfish die.”
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Inspired by another thread the question is "Who are your favorite poets"?
For me it would be: Robert Service Kipling Poe Little Johnny.
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A Boy Named Sue! Cash made it famous! Christopher Robin, Christopher Schmobin A bear has got to eat (Haiku to Pooh Bear)
Founder Ancient Order of the 1895 Winchester
"Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this desert city, Should in their own confines with forked heads Have their round haunches gored."
WS
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Inspired by another thread the question is "Who are your favorite poets"?
For me it would be: Robert Service Kipling Poe I have the collected works of Robert Service on my nightstand. My father gave it to me 40 years ago. I actually read a little to the grandkids last month. Poe and Kipling are also on my list, plus Robert Frost.
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Ogden Nash
The trouble with a kitten is that eventually it becomes a cat.
In high school we all had to do a reading of a favorite in our literature class. I did Paul Revere. Near all of us went through pages of boring material. The kid that did the above also got an A even though he did not have to read his material. The only true genius in our class.
Last edited by 1minute; 02/21/24.
1Minute
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He had a home a few miles from me in the Florida Keys. Don't know if he was a full time resident or not, but his front yard was always good for a chuckle or three. https://www.cbsnews.com/miami/news/grinch-speeding-drivers-onions-tickets-florida-keys/
I am..........disturbed.
Concerning the difference between man and the jackass: some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass. -Twain
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Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake Robert Service Baxter Black
When you see the southern cross for the first time You understand now why you came this way 'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small But it's as big as the promise The promise of a comin' day So I'm sailing for tomorrow, my dreams are a-dyin' And my love is an anchor tied to you Tied with a silver chain I have my ship and all her flags are a-flyin' She is all that I have left, and music is her name
Stills, Curtis, and Curtis
There are others, but my memory isn't as sharp as it once was.
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I do like ‘The Road Not Taken’ by Robert Frost. The road "less traveled" symbolizes the path of nonconformity.
Every day on this side of the ground is a win.
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Meeting at Night BY ROBERT BROWNING
The grey sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each!
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E. E. Cummings, hands down.
Or perhaps e.
(e. (cumm) ing
s)
Was introduced to this one in 11th grade, I thought it was the coolest and most nihilistic poem I'd ever read:
[Buffalo Bill 's] By E. E. Cummings Buffalo Bill ’s defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus
he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blue-eyed boy Mister Death
Gunnery, gunnery, gunnery. Hit the target, all else is twaddle!
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I'm surprised that John Milton hasn't been mentioned yet.
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Alfred, Lord Tennyson: "Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death. Rode the six hundred."
and Bob Nolan "Old Dan and I with throats burned dry And souls that cry for water"
ETA: Dang, I almost forgot Homer
People who choose to brew up their own storms bitch loudest about the rain.
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Longfellow for one, as he is a distant relative and his poem the blacksmith was about another relative.
"The 375HH is the greatest level of power you can get for the investment in recoil." (JJHack) 79s and losttrail, biggest waste of air.
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Yeats, The Second Coming. T.S. Elliot. Some Wallace Stevens and Dylan Thomas.
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Jim Harrison
Charles Bukowski
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Jim Harrison
Charles Bukowski Her panties My soul A bit of [bleep] on each Robert Frost was no real poet. But he was popularized for some reason.
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Lol, Charles Manson
A Poem About An Old Prison Man
Waiting on Death Row People coming in overalls Taking me to the gas chamber Scuffling of feet They took him down the hallway Feeling everyone's heartbeat The central control of the soul Batons and retro-tons Ingrown toenails One time all around you All round you, bump-bump Save my air, save my air My air, my air Air, water, trees Machines eating the night Energy moving Nuclear fires Burning reactors on my gate Fires of hell are burning Come home Can you see Can you say That you say That you really love this place?
GOA
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I have tried to read poetry a few times. It just isn't enjoyable at all. I don't like any poets.
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any rumi or rubaiyat khayyam fans?
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Dave Mustaine
prophetic poetry from '88
A cockroach in the concrete, courthouse tan and beady eyes A slouch with fallen arches, purging truths into great lies A little man with a big eraser, changing history Procedures that he's programmed to, all he hears and sees Altering the facts and figures, events and every issue Make a person disappear, and no one will ever miss you Rewrites every story, every poem that ever was Eliminates incompetence, and those who break the laws Follow the instructions of the New Ways' Evil Book of Rules Replacing rights with wrongs, the files and records in the schools You say you've got the answers, well who asked you anyway? Ever think maybe it was meant to be this way? Don't try to fool us, we know the worst is yet to come And I believe my kingdom will come
"The welfare of humanity is always the alibi of tyrants".
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any rumi or rubaiyat khayyam fans? 'The world is God's pure mirror, To eyes when free within ...' Rumi
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There once was a man from Nantucket.... I think I remember that one------how does the rest of it go ??
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SCI Life Member DAV Life Member NRA Life Member North American Hunt Club Life Member
Your true character shows in your conduct
You cannot solve a problem at the same level of awareness that created it - Einstein
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I have tried to read poetry a few times. It just isn't enjoyable at all. I don't like any poets. I don't often either. In High School, about 1972, several of us would gather in our Library and listen to EA Poe on vinyl. We were intrigued at the time, being all of fifteen years old. Recently I picked up "The complete works of Poe". OMG, what in the hell was wrong with our adolescent selves. That schitt sucks donkey balls. Morbid and depressing does not begin to describe Poe's writing.
People who choose to brew up their own storms bitch loudest about the rain.
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Here I sit, all broken hearted.
Paid a dime............
People who choose to brew up their own storms bitch loudest about the rain.
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My maternal grandfather passed when I was eleven. But the thing I remember he bequeathed to me was an introduction to Robert W. Service, Jack London, and Rudyard Kipling.
Grin
If you're up against a bruiser and you're getting knocked about — Grin. If you're feeling pretty groggy, and you're licked beyond a doubt — Grin.
Don't let him see you're funking, let him know with every clout, Though your face is battered to a pulp, your blooming heart is stout; Just stand upon your pins until the beggar knocks you out — And grin.
This life's a bally battle, and the same advice holds true Of grin. If you're up against it badly, then it's only one on you, So grin.
If the future's black as thunder, don't let people see you're blue; Just cultivate a cast-iron smile of joy the whole day through; If they call you "Little Sunshine", wish that THEY'D no troubles, too — You may — grin.
Rise up in the morning with the will that, smooth or rough, You'll grin. Sink to sleep at midnight, and although you're feeling tough, Yet grin.
There's nothing gained by whining, and you're not that kind of stuff; You're a fighter from away back, and you WON'T take a rebuff; Your trouble is that you don't know when you have had enough — Don't give in.
If Fate should down you, just get up and take another cuff; You may bank on it that there is no philosophy like bluff, And grin.
ya!
GWB
A Kill Artist. When I draw, I draw blood.
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And one that will stand any young/old man in good stead!
If, by Rudyard Kipling....
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
ya!
GWB
A Kill Artist. When I draw, I draw blood.
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I liked it when Roger Whitaker sang it. And one that will stand any young/old man in good stead!
If, by Rudyard Kipling....
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
ya!
GWB
"The 375HH is the greatest level of power you can get for the investment in recoil." (JJHack) 79s and losttrail, biggest waste of air.
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There once was a man from Nantucket I think I remember that one------how does the rest of it go ?? There was an old man of Nantucket Who kept all his cash in a bucket His daughter named Nan, ran away with a man And as for the bucket - Nan Tucket.
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There once was a man from Nantucket I think I remember that one------how does the rest of it go ?? There was an old man of Nantucket Who kept all his cash in a bucket His daughter named Nan, ran away with a man And as for the bucket - Nan Tucket. his dick was so large he could suck it.
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any rumi or rubaiyat khayyam fans? Yes, read a couple of books of Rumi's poetry about 15-16 years ago and enjoyed them very much, they were part of a series of books covering an arc of religions through China, India, the Middle East, Israel and Europe. Always really liked his use of the word "Friend" in referring to the cosmic being - "the friend".
Gunnery, gunnery, gunnery. Hit the target, all else is twaddle!
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this is a mysterious poem by Khayyam : Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
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An old man sadly laments ~ "I have no place to go."
Then smiles and says ~ "I've already been there."
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have you noticed 100% of poets are men BUT women take 100% credits for poetry ?
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I wonder if there is any truth to this statistic?
How many female poets are there? Poet gender statistics
62.2% of poets are women and 37.8% of poets are men.
People who choose to brew up their own storms bitch loudest about the rain.
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I once knew a hermit named Dave, Who kept a dead whore in his cave. She was missing a tit and smelled like chit, But think of the money he saved.
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I once knew a hermit named Dave, Who kept a dead whore in his cave. She was missing a tit and smelled like chit, But think of the money he saved. 😂🤣
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Seriously. .??? Poetry?
Turn in your man cards .
Proud NRA Life Member
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ee cummings (his classical sonnets have equals, but none better), and blank verse is unsurpassed. ferlinghetti homer shelley burns stevens
Last edited by fish30ought6; 02/23/24.
abiding in Him,
><>fish30ought6<><
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My great aunt Edna...
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light.
There is no retreat but in submission and slavery!
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Frank Baum
Charles Perrault
Thomas Ravenscroft
WS
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Robert Frost Edgar Allen Poe
Why do I have to press 1, for English?
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There once was a man from Nantucket.... I think I remember that one------how does the rest of it go ?? Got pissed off and s hit in a bucket....
Even birds know not to land downwind!
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