Socrates

          Easter Morn

I met the Gardener today,

His face and hands no worse for wear.

What struck me, indeed, was the way

He seemed to genuinely care.

No empty words meant to console,

No platitudes to ease the pain.

Just peace and comfort for my soul,

And promise of immortal gain.

Inspired by a recounting of the story of Mary Magdelene's visit to the empty tomb. She met a man she mistook for the gardener...

I confess. I wrote this.

Please give at least two thoughtful reasons

why this poem s*cks if you expect a BA

Theo Geisel, I hardly knew ye

sad lad

said his dad

made him mad

said his dad

took his rad

lifestyle for a fad

bad dad

what he had

in this lad

what he had

was a tad

more than he thought he had

'cause the lad

became a grad

and the dad

was very glad

dad and lad

glad and grad

not a bad

dyad

...or see the modern English translation?

Happy New Year, everyone

Auld Lang Syne

1.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o' auld lang syne.

Chorus.

And for auld lang syne, my jo,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne,

2.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

3.

We twa hae run about the braes

And pu'd the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary foot

Sin auld lang syne.

4.

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,

Frae mornin' sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin auld lang syne.

5.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right guid willy waught,

For auld lang syne.

___________________________

Old Long Past

1

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

And days of old long past.

Chorus.

And for old long past, my joy (sweetheart),

For old long past,

We will take a cup of kindness yet,

For old long past,

2

And surely you will pay for your pint-vessel!

And surely I will pay for mine!

And we will take a cup of kindness yet,

For old long past.

3

We two have run about the hillsides

And pulled the wild daisies fine;

But we have wandered many a weary foot

Since old long past.

4

We two have paddled in the stream,

From morning sun till noon;

But seas between us broad have roared

Since old long past.

5

And there is a hand, my trusty friend!

And give me a hand of yours!

And we will take a right good-will drink,

For old long past.

When all seems bleak,

The clouds convene

And the future seems a blur,

One need only seek

The prayers of friends

For miracles to occur.

-----------------------------------

To my contacts who kept me in their

prayers, and also my atheist and agnostic

friends who kept positive thoughts for me:

thank you - it worked.

Not only did I get a solution to my problem,

I got three and had to turn two down. (Those

solutions will be passed on to others.)

What a coincidence!   ;-)

I haven't been around much because I've been

...um, 'preoccupied'. I'm hoping to have more

time soon to enjoy your poems - but I still

got a buncha gummint paperwork to take care of.

 :-D

This is one of my favorite poems by E. E. Cummings

here is little Effie's head

whose brains are made of gingerbread

when judgment day comes

God will find six crumbs

stooping by the coffinlid

waiting for something to rise

as the other somethings did-

you imagine his surprise

bellowing through the general noise

Where is Effie who was dead?

-to God in a tiny voice,

i am may the first crumb said

whereupon its fellow five

crumbs chuckled as if they were alive

and number two took up the song

might i'm called and did no wrong

cried the third crumb, i am should

and this is my little sister could

with our big brother who is would

don't punish us for we were good;

and the last crumb with some shame

whispered unto God, my name

is must and with the others i've

been Effie who isn't alive

just imagine it I say

God amid a monstrous din

watch your step and follow me

stooping by Effie's little, in

(want a match or can you see?)

which the six subjective crumbs

twitch like mutilated thumbs;

picture His peering biggest whey

coloured face on which a frown

puzzles, but I know the way-

(nervously Whose eyes approve

the blessed while His ears are crammed

with the strenuous music of

the innumerable capering damned)

-staring wildly up and down

the here we are now judgment day

cross the threshold have no dread

lift the sheet back in this way

here is little Effie's head

whose brains are made of gingerbread

Does anyone over the age of 50 understand this poem?

comments/critique?

***

"The Tears of Time"

He never knew the tears of time

Until the waning years looked back

And laughed at mem'ries in their prime,

Their genial spirit thrown off track.

The friendships made and then forgot,

Remembered fondly once again.

Then lonely reminiscence bought

With wishful longings that remained.

A lifetime often holds regrets

That simple reason can't define,

The residues of spectral debts

From which spring the tears of time.

***

©2010 Paul Amorose

... house cat, to be precise. That was my intention.

Does the layout work? -- the internal rhyme?

***

            "Cat-"

Cat-

rageous

that

   stages stealth itself as immobile

   as the Sphinx of old while prey yet bold

   feels piercing eyes that stop it cold --

as on coiled air Cat pounces --

there! (oooooooooohhhhhhhh...allllMOST!)

Cat

pauses

licks

   paws its poise apparent toe to tail

   not a hint of shame no foil aflame

   just placid patience for the game

now still keen ears faint stirings

hear (thudump...thump..thudump)

Cat

senses

that

   thence is coming lumbering human

   to the grand armchair taboo when bare

   but filled with lap it's Cat's to share

with leaping grace Cat takes its

place (a swirl of fur that

magically transforms into

one long sonorous

infinite felinity

of purrrrrr....)

© 1999, 2010 Paul Amorose

***

I wanted to write this as a poem,

but darn! - I just can't seem to

get into a proper rhythm. So here,

in prose but with a poetic spirit,

is the story of the 'real' Santa Claus:

.......................................,

Little Marion's mother worked at the mall,

and Marion came to work with her during the

Christmas season. She would often visit with

the mall Santa when there was no one waiting

to see him. One day she told Santa that her

mother told her that there was no real Santa,

that he was just a man play-acting in a red

suit. Behind his false beard Santa grinned

so hard that his nose glowed and his eyes

twinkled! "Haaa Hah Hah," he laughed heartily,

"of course there's a real Santa - but he's not

a man in a red suit - and I'll bet you've met

him and didn't know it!"

"Oh no!" she replied, "How could I ever have met him?"

"We-l-l-l," said mall-Santa, still chuckling in a

convincing Santa-Claus manner, "Haven't you ever

given someone a gift?"

"Of course," she said.

"And did you wrap it up in fancy paper, and put a

pretty bow on it?"

"Yes."

"An when they opened it, did they look pleased and

surprised and say 'thank you' with a big smile?"

"Yes, yes!", she started to smile.

"An how did that make you feel?" mall-Santa asked.

"It made me feel really good!", her smile broadening.

"I'll bet it felt so good you almost burst into a

giggle!", he said.

"How did you know?", her eyes widening.

"Well, story-book Santa gives gifts to children all

over the world, leaving them happy and smiling on

Christmas morning. That's why he's portrayed as

such a jolly fellow. All that giving makes him

feel so good, he can't help but 'ho-ho-ho' all the

time!

"And when you felt that, Marion, that's when you

met the real Santa Claus. You see, Marion, the

*real* Santa Claus is the spirit of giving, and

that spirit visited you when you gave a gift."

Marion brightened like a Christmas tree and ran off

shouting, "I have to tell my momma I met the real

Santa Claus!"

Merry Christmas everyone!

I have also seen this spelling: Lancastrian Monopoly

THE ECONOMY STUPID

heads fattened

eyes glazed honey

sweetened dripping

stunned by the baton

of gimme, the herd of

consumers is led

onebyonebyoneby

hoisted feet-first in

Madison Avenue chains,

gutted green-splattered

frenzy into the mawl*

of Insatiable Commerce.

ground round,

and round and round

on the corporate

calliope carousel

grill.

*mawl (a coined word) = maw + mall

(somehow I don't it will do as well as 'chortle')

Can you suggest a better title?

When I posted this poem, several people asked

how I got Yahoo to space all the letters properly.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=Ag8Sx...

When one enters text and submits an answer or question,

it gets compiled into the HTML code of the web page.

When a browser (IE, FrFx, etc.) parses this code, it

ignores what seem to be unnecessary spaces. There's

a special code character, called a nonbreaking space,

which is used to force spaces to be recognized. It

looks like this:   & n b s p ;

but without the spaces (If I put it all together, it

will disappear.) To show what I typed to post the

poem with proper spacing, I have substituted all the

ampersands (&) with dollar signs ($), and here it is:

* * *

the hidden eye

can take a structure

a practical structure

(they use it all the

time) and

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;t

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;o

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;s

it into$nbsp;$nbsp;u$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;s$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;s

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;s$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;s

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;e$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;e

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;l$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;n

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;e$nbsp;$nbsp;s$nbsp;$nbsp;s

and they look

twice

and say it's

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;(crazy

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;isn't

$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;$nbsp;it)

Art

* * *

[Note: the code lines are so long, Yahoo chops them short]

BQ: Do you think I'm completely out of my mind,

or just slightly mad?

* * *

the hidden eye

can take a structure

a practical structure

(they use it all the

time) and

                t

                  o

                 s

it into  u          s       s

          s                  s

           e                e

             l            n

               e  s  s

and they look

twice

and say it's

                (crazy

                  isn't

                  it)

Art

* * *

©1968,1998,2009 Paul Amorose. All rights reserved.

...who seem to have misplaced their thumbs?

Please take the SMURFSONALITY TEST:

http://bluebuddies.com/smurf_fun/smurf_personality...

then copy and paste the results here...

Thank you.

Could this be a symptom of something more serious?

I met the Gardener today,

His face and hands no worse for wear.

What struck me, indeed, was the way

He seemed to genuinely care.

No empty words meant to console,

No platitudes to ease the pain.

Just peace and comfort for my soul,

And promise of immortal gain.

A poet once took up the challenge

To find a word rhyming with orange.

     He spoke choice after choice,

     Almost losing his voice,

'Til he sucked on a menthol throat lozenge.

I was just wondering if anyone else noticed.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhVEq...

[Just one more time]