Oldcomer2

BQ: Or do you want some of the brain to be involved in writing the poem?

There once was a poet named Dave

whose poems made everyone rave

many answers he got

not one of them rot

before trolls tossed them into a grave.

Hello Oldcomer2,

The answer on Yahoo Answers was reported and deleted by one or more trusted members of the Answers community:

"This information is too general. Can you see the teacher and ask for the poem? Even if you are no longer in that class, I'm sure the teacher would be happy to do so."

This answer has been removed and 10 points have been deducted from your account. You may not have realized this, but all answers submitted on Yahoo Answers must comply with the Answers Community Guidelines.

If you believe that your answerwas wrongly deleted by the community and would like to appeal the deletion of your answer, you can have your case reviewed by Answers Customer Care. You have 7 days to submit your appeal. Please be aware that if your appeal is rejected, an additional 10 points will be removed from your account.

Appeal this decision:

http://answers.yahoo.com/answer/appeal?qid=2013111...

Thanks,

Yahoo Answers Team

A YouTube video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5hhqvNDak8#t=58

The New Colossus

by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Sonnet XXXIX

---William Shakespeare

O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,

When thou art all the better part of me?

What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?

And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?

Even for this, let us divided live,

And our dear love lose name of single one,

That by this separation I may give

That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.

O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,

Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,

To entertain the time with thoughts of love,

Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,

And that thou teachest how to make one twain,

By praising him here who doth hence remain

Blockage

Like a gun’s trigger,

they went off

half-cocked.

by “Warison,” HH and Gio

I’m blocked,

I understand why

It was done by

the Greek,

but can’t comprehend

what vengeance

they seek,

it should not matter

because in

the end

in this place I still

Have old and

new friends.

I asked a question 10 hours ago. I don't see it on the board and the 3 answers I received are not in my email notifications. Yet, I can see it in "My Activity." So what is going on? I'm still on the old Y/A format.

Thoughts on Future Traditions

During the Jewish high holy days

a friend offered me their traditional blessing,

“May you be inscribed in the Book of Life.”

And I wondered how long it would be

before a traditional blessing became

“May you be inscribed in the IPod of life?”

To a nonentity

Of Apples and Poets

It is said that it takes

only one rotten apple

to poison the good ones

filling the barrel,

not being a farmer

I’m not sure this is true

for poets are not spoiled

by one such as you.

In Memoriam: Rest In Peace, Grandpa.

“SWIFTLY FLOWS THE RIVER”

A baby peers into the mirror and he’s twenty-one

proudly he stands, now that school days are done,

he walks down the aisle, he has turned twenty-five,

married and happy, glad that he is alive,

he wakes in the morning, smiles where he stands,

today he is forty and the world’s in his hands,

he pats his son’s shoulder, thinks of his college days

as his son takes his diploma and goes on his way,

he rocks in his chair, oh, his poor leg hurts so,

his wife calls an ambulance, to the hospital they go,

he looks down at his darling, whispers, "You need only wait,

soon you’ll be meeting me at Heaven’s Gate."

Wordless

My mind is filled with thoughts

for which I cannot find the words,

I want to tell her of my love

in a way she’s never heard,

Instead, I reach for her

and wordless, we embrace,

I know she understands

when I look upon her face.

"He knew the answers to everything"

-By Happy Hiram

He knew why the sky was blue

And why the sea was green

Perhaps he knew too much

Perhaps, or was it fear?

Yes it was fear, perhaps.

Poetry was his time kill

Other places were home

Even though he made friends

Trust me, he was still alone.

He talked about himself a lot

In fact that's all he knew

Remember this isn't his spot

And now he's playing poet, and

May still learn a thing or two.

Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May

(To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time)

By Robert Herrick

(1591 - 1674)

.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying:

And this same flower that smiles today

To-morrow will be dying.

.

The glorious lamp of Heaven, the sun,

The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run.

And nearer he's to setting.

.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry:

For having lost but once your prime,

You may for ever tarry.

(This poem is part of the public domain.)

The quotation is from Australian writer Robert Hughes who said, "The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize."

My take on this: One who believes his work is perfect, leaves no room to grow and change. Perfection cannot be improved. That is why artists antagonize over their work.

Do you agree or disagree with this quote, which has left the building not by my hand?

"The destination was on minds evince;"

THE SATYR GOD OF GREECE

How doth the Grecian satyr

Leap lightly down the mountain,

This Pan who said, “I won’t take no,

I’ll drink at Syrinx’s fountain?”

When the poor nymph ran from him

They changed her to a reed,

Now Pan, he plays upon her

To satisfy his need.

What can you say about this line from the song "Ebb Tide" by The platters?

Like the tide at its ebb I'm at peace in the web of your arms.

Of Locks and Blocks

The door is closed and locked

by concrete words I’m blocked

I’m not locked out, but in

the fool, he’ll never win.

I've made my point

in this joint

and now I'm back

to me...