Ponder and reply...
Monday, December 16, 2002 by @shu | Discussion: WinCustomize Talk
Has the genre of poetry lost its charm? I searched for 3 days to find the poem I used in 'Kavita', a wallpaper but got no feedback... 
I was hoping for a surge of feedback...
Is poetry dead????
I was hoping for a surge of feedback...
Is poetry dead????
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Angel_Wings
Reply #282 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:35 PM
Reply #282 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:35 PM
Oops Guess I have to try
Angel_Wings 's fingers?
Angel_Wings 's fingers?
Angel_Wings
Reply #283 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:36 PM
Reply #283 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:36 PM
Angel_Wings smell's like a low-stinking tide now. Time to wash up! My poor, poor keyboard will never forgive me! 
JamMeister33
Reply #284 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:38 PM
Reply #284 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:38 PM
Love shellfish, AngEla! Love all kinds of seafood...
I especially love good home cooking... yummy!
JamMeister33 's tummy is a'rumblin'....
I especially love good home cooking... yummy!
JamMeister33 's tummy is a'rumblin'....
Angel_Wings
Reply #285 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:40 PM
Reply #285 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:40 PM
Angel_Wings thinks Jammy's tummy needs some home cookin' and pronto!
JamMeister33
Reply #287 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:51 PM
Reply #287 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:51 PM
But instead, I'm gonna run out and pick up the turkey club sammich I just ordered...... 
Lecrayon
Reply #288 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:02 PM
Reply #288 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:02 PM
Hours
every
hour
of the day
I think
of you
I have done wrong,
why?
I don't
know
I have done wrong
and yearning
for a day
with you
every hour
of the day
every
hour
of the day
I think
of you
I have done wrong,
why?
I don't
know
I have done wrong
and yearning
for a day
with you
every hour
of the day
Jafo
Reply #289 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:07 PM
Reply #289 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:07 PM
One of the saddest and most anti-war songs around....particularly for Aussies....read it and weep, Mister Bush...
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda - by Eric Bogle
Now when I was a young man I carried my pack
And lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's Green Basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said "Son,
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they marched me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, flag waving and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Souvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
'Johnny Turk' he was ready, he'd primed himself well
He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
While we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of death, blood and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse-over-head
And when I awoke in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead
Never knew there was worse things than dying
For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free
For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So, they collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
The proud, wounded heroes of Souvla
And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams and past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a'waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong
Who'll come a'waltzing Matilda with me?
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda - by Eric Bogle
Now when I was a young man I carried my pack
And lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's Green Basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said "Son,
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they marched me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, flag waving and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Souvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
'Johnny Turk' he was ready, he'd primed himself well
He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
While we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
And those that were left, well we tried to survive
In that mad world of death, blood and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse-over-head
And when I awoke in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead
Never knew there was worse things than dying
For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free
For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So, they collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
The proud, wounded heroes of Souvla
And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams and past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a'waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong
Who'll come a'waltzing Matilda with me?
elvee
Reply #290 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:48 PM
Reply #290 Sunday, December 22, 2002 5:48 PM
By Christine Lavant
I HEAR THE HEAVY MOON approaching,
I hear shallow sleep walking,
my memory sharpens all knives
on the memory stone.
Five crows picked the poppyhead empty,
its crown takes a viper
and resting in the heart's hollow
the seeds carry sleep.
The little knives sing merrily and steeled:
We will slaughter the fat moon,
we will skin the insolent snake
and clean the sorrowful bowl.
I hear the heavy moon falling,
I hear the thin creature hiss,
five brave birds transplant
the heart in memory.
Translated from the German by David Chorlton
I HEAR THE HEAVY MOON approaching,
I hear shallow sleep walking,
my memory sharpens all knives
on the memory stone.
Five crows picked the poppyhead empty,
its crown takes a viper
and resting in the heart's hollow
the seeds carry sleep.
The little knives sing merrily and steeled:
We will slaughter the fat moon,
we will skin the insolent snake
and clean the sorrowful bowl.
I hear the heavy moon falling,
I hear the thin creature hiss,
five brave birds transplant
the heart in memory.
Translated from the German by David Chorlton
JamMeister33
Reply #291 Sunday, December 22, 2002 6:57 PM
Reply #291 Sunday, December 22, 2002 6:57 PM
My verse:
Gulls fly, winds blow
Don't ask why if you don't know
Wish for luck, wish for rain
Wish for reasons, watch me go
Gulls fly, winds blow
Don't ask why if you don't know
Wish for luck, wish for rain
Wish for reasons, watch me go
JamMeister33
Reply #292 Sunday, December 22, 2002 7:10 PM
Reply #292 Sunday, December 22, 2002 7:10 PM
Okay ashu, we gotta start bribing people to write a verse for us.......
JamMeister33
Reply #293 Sunday, December 22, 2002 8:27 PM
Reply #293 Sunday, December 22, 2002 8:27 PM
Walter Becker - "Surf and/or Die" - '11 tracks of Whack' - 1994
FYI (Walter Becker is the guitar player and Donald Fagen's songwriting partner in 'Steely Dan')
FYI (Walter Becker is the guitar player and Donald Fagen's songwriting partner in 'Steely Dan')
@shu
Reply #297 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:30 PM
Reply #297 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:30 PM
What kinda bribe JM?
Good morning to you all (or is it good evening)
Good morning to you all (or is it good evening)
@shu
Reply #298 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:32 PM
Reply #298 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:32 PM
What bout werewolf?
Dear sir, won't u write a verse to contribute to our poem?LEASE:
Dear sir, won't u write a verse to contribute to our poem?
LEASE:
@shu
Reply #300 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:36 PM
Reply #300 Sunday, December 22, 2002 9:36 PM
I liked motion's poem. Inspiring.
And you Sir WOM, I hope you read my tribute to you at the Scales wallpaper page. If you haven't, please do.
And you Sir WOM, I hope you read my tribute to you at the Scales wallpaper page. If you haven't, please do.
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Reply #281 Sunday, December 22, 2002 4:34 PM
I'll dish you up a big bowl Jam as long as you're not allergic to shellfish!