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I didn't know you were singing until I heard your song.
At first, i thought it thunder, til your laughter proved me wrong.
Or perhaps, i thought, the crash of seas, upon the battered beach,
But then i caught your melody, as it came within my reach.
And now i know, i've known your song, and where i've heard it played,
It is the song the mountain sings to all that God has made.
It is the music of the sky, the river and the wood,
A song of halleluaih, for all in life that's good

Think I should
write here something
unkempt and unkept, think I might
divine some spirit of what
he or she maximized for living,
ritualize capitalization, why don't you
conform to our
punctuation standards/live long and prosper,
what, am I
supposed to flout the ceilings and
scar the page with
insistent wanderings,
or just leave soot and footprints all up the
yellow white striping chimneys that hang
stockings into the air when it isn't
now and
then and
sometimes after dinner we go
dancing in the night like this
where he finishes his promises
almost as quickly as he lost them,
while the edges of my thoughts
grow sharper and more ragged,
and don't you see it's he already
too late dropped them,
maybe I kaleidescope,
he never thought of that.
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no typos in that btw
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Wow...the author spent time on that poem number 10936...I mean, wow! That touched me so deeply!
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I think you missed the point.
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What is that bizarre allusion to Star Trek doing there? I enjoyed the little stab at all those who oppose certain stylistic poetics. I guess you aren't really allowed to have your signature in this world of bland conformists.
I am still trying to tie that part in to the second seemingly separate thought that begins 'sometimes after dinner we go'. What exactly is that referring to?
Just trying my best to enjoy what is out there and wondering about quite a few things. Ramsey
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I heard my nephew say that once. Have I quoted some song? -Cook
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Hey, let's do something with this...Fallon
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You want me to explain my poem?
It was more a rambling, in lines, so you should appreciate it.
The explanation is basically that I was annoyed at several things at once. First, the stylistic constraints some people want to impose and how that kind of ties into how society imposes standards on us, says conform and you'll do well (live long & prosper). Then the fact that I was writing such a pointless poem. Then it all came back to the same thing it always comes back to, namely the "he" mentioned. And then I brought you into it with the thought dropping. Not that I was annoyed at you. In short, I was not in a good mood and decided to vent. It wasn't really worth dissecting, but oh well.
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That's too bad. Please, feel better!