Sonnet

[che]

I very like these proverbs.
I laugh a lot.

[mickey_one]

Mickey_mate,
here's another ancient proverb you might like to try for size:
"Because a man is pictured in a woman's clothes doesn't mean he's not a prick."

I prefer mine

I gave up on you a while back and to defend myself from you dulling me to death, I installed specialist software that deleted all posts on this forum which contained any of the letters of your name.

However, at the wonderful Barbican event yesterday there remained a small minority of those who have met you who maintained that you are not entirely a lost cause and begged me graciously to grant you a second chance.

It is solely out of respect for those otherwise sensible folks that I am prepared, on just this one occasion, to respond to any well presented, witty, intellectually coherent, or even averagely interesting points that you have made so far in your latest stirring expedition. I list such points below.

























.

[Red Poppy]

mickey_mate,
May I - in all humility - suggest you nicked the half blank page notion from an idea that originally surfaced in a Tom Paxton song called the Ballad of Spiro Agnew:
"I'll sing you a song of Spiro Agnew,
and all the wonderful things he's done......."
followed by thirty seconds of silence.
If you didn't, you're a greater genius than even you think

I'm so glad those kind hearts and gentle people turned up to see you at the Barbican.
I know each and every one of them holds you in awe.
Had you not been there it would have been a poorer place.
Truly, you are the son of God.
Hope the softwear didn't cost too much.
Again, thank you for allowing me to post on your forum .

[mickey_one]

I very like these proverbs.
I laugh a lot.

when you see me in women's clothing, you would laugh even more.

[Manna]

I couldn't think of one clever way to stop this guy, so I just trusted to mindless violence.

which seemed to me to be a fine proverb and relating to this thread.

[che]

To make me laugh again manna.You think me to bring the head of alfredo garcia on a platter, his head is gone, his is mindless
this add to the two each proverbs the mickey and the red popy make me smile too.

[~greg]

Thank you, Michael.

I really appreciate your "little prick" comment.
I have been posting like a zombie with my fly open,
and nobody else (apart from the talking super-hero
bug streaks in the peripheral windshield) tried to tell me.

Lizzzytysh's deadpan reactions to my ersatz cultural
anthropology lecture gave me the first hint that
I have been going about this all wrong.
But unfortunately I am too thick and ego centric
to pick up on subtle hints like that. It takes a
real sudden shock, - at just at the right moment,
- when I am totally up my own ass, - to get through to me.
~~

I understand that you are not entirely well, Michael.

Please do get well.

~~

In the balance, I wouldn't mind knowing why you called me a little prick.
(I know you miss Jack. But you know I can't be him.)

Knowing what particular thing you meant by it,
isn't as important as knowing why I should have called myself one first.

I believe, with the stoics, that the greatest value
is to constantly be improving our own virtue.
And that everything else in the world - all other people,
- everything that is not directly under our own control,
- has to be regarded as "indifferents".

But this attitude needs to be internalized.
External crutches don't help.

Not only a few letters,
- I had everybody - including myself - on my "enemies list",
So that this forum appeared to me as a completely blank ganzfeld.
Which is why nothing ever upset me before this thread.
But it's also why I never knew what's going on.

I have corrected this.
I have now actually read some other people's posts.
Including a bit of yours, too, Michael, when they got in the way.

And the first thing I find I'm in agreement with
is yes, indeed. the Seawall's poem For LZ- The First Time
is a mature interaction, and the textbook-forum-at-its-best
and a good model to follow,
if you do say so yourself.

And the second thing I find I'm in total-semi agreement with
is with Lizzy about the I Do Not Live in Paris thread
- about its being another good one.

- except for the Jimmy O'Connel's sarcasm.
- which is an "indifferent" and a red-herring
and a real jerky thing, and I'm not the only target of it anyway.

I should have expected it, but it turns out that other people
are not so stupid as I always thought they were
before I knew they existed.

And that all of their poems are much better
than I thought they were before I read them.

People put themselves into these poems.
These poems are the people. Real people.
Not corporate or political ads.

And real people come in all shapes. And sizes.
And in all different ages. And they carry around
with them all kinds of different experiences that
they've picked up around the hood. It's what
makes them real people. And without the real people,
you'd be talking to the mirror.

Real people are, without exception, so much more
satisfying to our innate human appitite for real people
---than all of the back-ground noise and entertainment put
together. If you just let them be themselves. If you just
let them in. Even if it's just into a tiny crack opening
of your mansion door. Even if it's just to let them sit down
in your antechamber for a few minutes and get a load
off their dogs. They will be eternally grateful to you,
you know. Real people are like that. Just for letting them
out of their own personal snow-blizard or cat 10 hurricane,
even if just for a few minutes a day.

And even if they're just "taking the piss".
- that's real people there taking the piss.
It's how they want to be remembered.

I had seen her with her eyes
and she me with mine

I wrote that a hundred years ago. I forget about who.
Isn't that odd.

Now, without exception, the more I read
any particular poem here, the better it is.
Everything grows on me.
I am good earth.

Which is why I am litterally in a constant state
of ecstasy about the existence of other people.
And in misery and pity for everybody.
Which why I have to block everything out.

[mickey_one]

Greg, you must be as guilty as me of skipping a certain poster's self-basting contributions. However, I spotted his novel insult about my "pomposity" and he is the the little prick who follows me to point it out. You must not covert a description that was for him alone. I enjoy your writings as much as ever

mickey_one

(Pompous Since 1953, Greg's friend since Montreal 2000, Birthday next Tuesday)

[Red Poppy]

mickey_mate
I thought my PM inbox had ceased to accept posts from you and now I find that it's simply that you haven't been writing!
And I discover two other things - you do read other people's posts and you do care. :
You sweet, sweet boyo.
And oh the puns, how do you think of the ones you don't nick from elsewhere?
Like "covert a description" - you foxy little fellow - or is that just a typo?
No, surely not, it would break my heart to think so.
Again, thank you for allowing me to post on your forum.
Don't listen to those sweet people at the Barbican, your instincts (as ever) were right!
And, honestly, we all hold you in the highest esteem.
RP
PS
And we're both Librans, that explains why we get on so well together
Is that tomorrow or the Tuesday of next week? We need to know so we can get the greetings there on time.
Sorry for taking so much of your time.

[Manna]

Oh, dang it Greg. You know, the second someone starts showing [off] their humanity, it's like (I don't have anything to say what it's like). Do you have any idea the number of people I have fallen for in this forum? Only like, about, hmm, oh, I'd say all of em, I guess. I love ya'll. I love you when you're fighting, when you're funny, when you're lovey, when you shout a big HELLO! I love finding that someone has PM'ed me. I love the long explanations, and the refusals to give them. the humanity that comes out here. when someone tells me I am wrong. the piss, and the bitterness. someone goes away, then comes back. one person does what he does to protect another, and another refuses to take anything personally, and another takes everything personally, and another stands outside himself. the bends, the turns, the changing of minds. I love knowing you and better yet, learning you and learning from you. Oh I guess that's long enough.

(For instance, I have stolen your thought separation motif, see below)

--~--

I been a'whittlin' all my life
and all I got is a Barlow knife
Barlow handle and a Barlow blade
best old knife that ever was made

Yeah, that seems to work too, though I don't entirely like letting go of the God business in the poem. I wonder why it didn't come to me in the reading. On reading it this time with whittling in mind, it felt like I was remembering something, so maybe I did have that thought when I first read it however long ago that was.

[Red Poppy]

Powerful post there Manna.
Thank you.

[Jimmy O'Connell]

Manna, a chailin...*
Fair whacks to ya!!!!!**


Jimmy

* girl
** This is a compliment

[Manna]

Manna, a chailin...*
Fair whacks to ya!!!!!**


Jimmy

* girl
** This is a compliment

ha ha!! Whacking has a certain other meaning on this side of the globe. But what the heck.

[lizzytysh]

Right on, Manna [including the difference in terminology ]. Well said .

I'll add these words, not mine, yet seem fitting... and how I wish I'd been there when he sang this song:

. . .

I was walking
along 7th Avenue, when I came to 14th Street I saw on the corner curious
mutilations of the human form; it was a school for handicapped people. And
there were cripples, and people in wheelchairs and crutches and it was snowing,
and I got this sense that the whole city was singing this:

Oh please don't pass me by,
oh please don't pass me by,
for I am blind, but you can see,
yes, I've been blinded totally,
oh please don't pass me by.

. . .

Now I know that you're sitting there deep in your velvet seats and you're
thinking "Uh, he's up there saying something that he thinks about, but I'll
never have to sing that song." But I promise you friends, that you're going
to be singing this song: it may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, but
one day you'll be on your knees and I want you to know the words when the
time comes. Because you're going to have to sing it to yourself, or to another,
or to your brother. You're going to have to learn to sing this song, it goes:

. . .

Well I sing this for the Jews and the Gypsies and the smoke that they made.
And I sing this for the children of England, their faces so grave. And I sing
this for a saviour with no one to save. Hey, won't you be naked for me? Hey,
won't you be naked for me? It goes:

. . .

Well I sing this song for you Blonde Beasts, I sing this song for you Venuses
upon your shells on the foam of the sea. And I sing this for the freaks and
the cripples, and the hunchback, and the burned, and the burning, and the
maimed, and the broken, and the torn, and all of those that you talk about at
the coffee tables, at the meetings, and the demonstrations, on the streets,
in your music, in my songs. I mean the real ones that are burning, I mean the
real ones that are burning

. . .

I know that you still think that its me. I know that you think that there's
somebody else. I know that these words aren't yours. But I tell you friends
that one day

You're going to get down on your knees,

. . .

Well you know I have my songs and I have my poems. I have my book and I have
the army, and sometimes I have your applause. I make some money, but you know
what my friends, I'm still out there on the corner. I'm with the freaks, I'm
with the hunted, I'm with the maimed, yes I'm with the torn, I'm with the down,
I'm with the poor. Come on now ...

. . .

Now I want to take away my dignity, yes take my dignity. My friends, take my
dignity, take my form, take my style, take my honour, take my courage, take
my time, take my time, .. time .. 'Cause you know I'm with you singing this
song. And I wish you would, I wish you would, I wish you would go home with
someone else. Wish you'd go home with someone else. I wish you'd go home with
someone else. Don't be the person that you came with. Oh, don't be the person
that you came with, Oh don't be the person that you came with. Ah, I'm not
going to be. I can't stand him. I can't stand who I am. That's why I've got to
get down on my knees. Because I can't make it by myself. I'm not by myself
anymore because the man I was before he was a tyrant, he was a slave, he was
in chains, he was broken and then he sang:

. . .

Well I hope I see you out there on the corner. Yeah I hope as I go by that I
hear you whisper with the breeze. Because I'm going to leave you now, I'm
going to find me someone new. Find someone new.

And please don't pass me by.

~ Lizzy

[mickey_one]

Manna, I had planned to bring you back from Copenhagen a Little Mermaid model but I checked out the original today from top to bottom and I have serious concerns that she, unlike you, is not a real woman.

farvella og mange kys

michael

POMPOUS SINCE 30TH OCTOBER 1953
SWATTING GNATS SINCE 30TH OCTOBER 1954
NEVER USED AN EMOTICON SINCE 1955
IGNORING STIRRERS AND STALKERS SINCE AUGUST 2007