is the French syntax mangled on purpose in the title?
is the French syntax mangled on purpose in the title?
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes it is, Jean. I purposely chose a random translation website, because I knew it would mangle the translation for me. It's a bit of a joke to all Francophones.
My favorite bands can kick your favorite bands' asses.
The horizon is right and motionless like the EKG of a dying woman.
Good. I thought as much. I like it.
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm surprised you like it. For a poem about death that segues into a poem about sex using modern vernacular, and referencing no fewer than five different things, I guess it's not too bad.
My favorite bands can kick your favorite bands' asses.
The horizon is right and motionless like the EKG of a dying woman.
it's the title of a porn you once saw, Jon.
how about posting another poem on death?
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well...look at the three word poetry circle.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Well I'll try here. I'll tie this one with the one in the "Three words" circle.
It was just words on paper to most, a mortal command
Years of appeals and this reality I had to withstand
I walk alone despite the priest and guard
All a result of a treacherous canard
Slowly we walk, shackles drag
once proud, hopeful shoulders now sag
We are here now, the infamous strapped bed
We are all the same to her, from the Crip to the skinhead
She does not distinguish the the murderous from the falsely implicated
I lie down , not a guilty one, but placed by those hard-hearted and jaded
I was only six you see I tried to end my life too.
But the police made a miraculous rescue
Yes, I DID cut the brake lines, but the things they did to me
I didn't want to kill or die, I just didn't want to BE!
A needle into my vein
I try one last time to explain
a saline solution begins, this helps the poison flow
Such a healthy substance for death to follow
The color in the tube begins to change, a chance for my last words
"I was six and abused you bastards!"
Slowly I go calm then numb
"Has the Governor called madam?"
slipping away, I wonder if when every man dies
He sees his father's lifeless eyes.
The curve, the cliff, the terrible crashing sound
Then what I thought would be my last bound
The misfortune of landing right by my dead father
The rescue squad, why did they bother
My last thought as I slip into Hell
The rescue a waste, the result is the same, except for years in a cell.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Is it ok if I combine this poem with an other of mine and place in my personal poem thread?
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
pperfectly ok, as I said here
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The fool runs in fear over a cliff
The moments falling, he remembers every lie, every scam
All seem a world away but yet his fear makes him stiff
What fool could be driven to death by a gentle beast?
A blow to his pride for sure.
No one will know what drove him over at least.
And Doctor after doctor could find no cure.
This is how his illusion ends.
Driven by his own demons, no matter the form.
If you had observed, you would have heard when his mental grip portends,
and seen the signs of the impending violent storm
Ground closing fast, but still time for resignation.
One last thought.
One last hope for salvation
One last chance to find the answer so sought.
It’s over now, Terrestrial collision
Sadly, this tortured soul found no resolution
Did this mind lack strength, or vision?
Sadly, everyday many souls chose this solution
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Great! Really enjoyed the picture with the poem... gave me the right perspective to read it.
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
It seems I have missed quite a bit in my long absence.
"Help me out here
All my words are falling short
And there's so much I want to say"
I respectfully request a new subject.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
You are respectfully granted a new subject!
let's see what you all do with...
FOOD!
Buddy, you think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape.
Weroksljfbs [We're ox-life jabs]
Sickening gluttony as my kidneys explode.
That sickening scent of salt burning and the steak comes on a plate as big as my head.
72 ounces. Overdose.
Drugs, food, seratonin, dopamine, chemicals and drugs all.
Quilted napkins greet my sauced mouth hole.
Finally the purge comes and I walk out onto the runway.
---------------------------
My favorite bands can kick your favorite bands' asses.
The horizon is right and motionless like the EKG of a dying woman.
The sicking thud of that final, gut busting BBQ rib.
The crying, hungry baby across the world in her crib.
The guilt, the gluttony, can never be assuaged.
The starving child's mother would be enraged.
All the food for some, must seem to her a sin.
as she saw the future heart attack victim wipe his chin.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Man cannot live by bread alone,
so we've been told.
Yet, our souls can be nourished at mealtimes,
just as it can while we sit in church pews.
Find joy at your table!
If you merely knaw the sweet corncob,
you'll miss the flavor of long summer days,
vast fields of green basking in the bright sunlight,
a smell of warm earth carried on a breeze.
Will you wolf down that pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving,
(to catch the second half of a football game)
and loose the taste of this year coming to a close?
That subtle spice of reaping what was sown,
the bounty of a harvest,
and a satisfied feeling of a task well done.
Don't dare tip that oyster shell to swallow it's treasure!
Chew the mussel, and it will tell your tongue of the tides,
salt-tinged, ever in motion, and predictable as the moonrise.
And that humble can of tuna fish...give it its due credit!
Within you'll find the texture of the open ocean,
it's great unknown depths, an endless horizon,
and the freedom of boundless motion.
Savor the tastes of creation's blessings...
don't settle for filling that hole in your belly.
I LOVE that Ladysai!!!!!!!!!!
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Beans beans; the musical fruit...
(I think this one has been done Jon.)
Thanks Walt.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Hey...that brings up a question dear Mod.
Must the word "food" appear in the poem or can it just be about a food?
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
This Poetry Circle is about subject rather than words; thus, the word food doesn't have to appear, but the poem must be explicitly, unambiguously dedicated to food - a beefsteak casually mentioned won't do.
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh shitcakes. I'm not too good at that whole explicit thing in terms of subject....
My favorite bands can kick your favorite bands' asses.
The horizon is right and motionless like the EKG of a dying woman.
referring to poetry, this word doesn't mean the same as it would in the context of, say, amending the Constitution. So fear not. Vague or paradoxical may be as explicit as listing items of a restaurant menue, provided food is there, in whatever form.
Ask not what bears can do for you, but what you can do for bears. (razz)
When one is in agreement with bears one is always correct. (mae)
bears are back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!