The Conservative Cave
Current Events => The DUmpster => Topic started by: BattleHymn on September 14, 2015, 08:43:42 PM
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http://www.democraticunderground.com/?com=view_post&forum=1018&pid=797425
No sign of Calpig or a Calplop to be seen here yet:
Sat Sep 12, 2015, 02:30 PM
Star Member discntnt_irny_srcsm (9,835 posts)
What's your favorite poem?
Mine:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Sat Sep 12, 2015, 03:06 PM
demmiblue (6,953 posts)
6. Ego-Tripping (there may be a reason why)
I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman
I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can't catch me
For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on
My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save
I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents
I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission
I mean...I...can fly
like a bird in the sky...
- Nikki Giovanni
Sat Sep 12, 2015, 03:31 PM
Star Member discntnt_irny_srcsm (9,835 posts)
9. I love that!
"I am so hip even my errors are correct"
I think we've discovered nads' muse.
Sat Sep 12, 2015, 09:25 PM
Prisoner_Number_Six (15,420 posts)
19. My favorite is one I wrote about 35 years ago
A Special Dream
I had a special dream last night--
I dreamed that I could fly
away, beyond the floating clouds--
I danced up in the sky.
The treetops were my stepping stones
to reach the summer air
so clear, so warm and sparkling blue!
I wish I was still there.
My dream was very real to me--
I thought of it all day.
I want to go back to my sky--
I wish there were a way!
To fly; to fly just like a bird!
To laugh at gravity!
It tasted sweet up in the sky--
like summer wine to me.
I had a special dream last night--
I dreamed that I could be
above the mountains; with the stars!
I flew, and I was free!
© 2015 Steven A. Hessler
All Rights Reserved
Oh no! A copyright mark!!
Sat Sep 12, 2015, 10:43 PM
Capt.Rocky300 (608 posts)
21. Robert Service's.......
The Cremation of Sam McGee. Best read aloud to others around a roaring campfire.
That's exactly what we've got here.
Sun Sep 13, 2015, 05:56 PM
DFW (18,961 posts)
33. Although "i sing of Olaf" by e.e. cummings is a close second....
A simple minded southerner like me goes for simplicity, so.........
The Fly by Ogden Nash
God, in his wisdom, made the fly
And then forgot to tell us why
DFW checks in. He's a simple minded name dropping Southerner, you know.
Mon Sep 14, 2015, 12:16 AM
PushyGalore (3 posts)
40. Two of mine:
"homage to my hips"
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty spaces. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have know them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!
--Lucille Clifton
NOW we are getting nearer a Calplop.
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CaliforniaPeggy (1000+ posts) Wed Jan-27-10 02:17 AM
Original message
Newest Poem: Intensive Care
Paramedic red
battering at the night
someone’s bleeding
heart attacking
or stroking
out
Red lights blink blink blink blink
shiny truck gleaming
run to the bedside
asystole on the monitor
quick with the crash cart
start CPR
where’s respiratory
I need help in here
oh god don’t let her die
don’t let me **** up
no time to think
where’s the back board
flatten the bed
open the airway
oh thank god there’s respiratory
at last
and the ER doc
OK
saved the life
time to mop up
get the chart
document document document
paramedic red
took me
back
tonight
© 2010 MLC
Note that this is a copyrighted work. A CalPig creation.
You may recite it at home for the enjoyment of family and friends, but do not charge admission, or you could be in violation of the copyright.
In that case you would hear from her attorneys at Laserhaas, Fat Che's Little Brother & Associates.
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Note that this is a copyrighted work. A CalPig creation.
You may recite it at home for the enjoyment of family and friends, but do not charge admission, or you could be in violation of the copyright.
In that case you would hear from her attorneys at Laserhaas, Fat Che's Little Brother & Associates.
:rotf: :rotf: :rotf: :rotf: :rotf:
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Note that this is a copyrighted work. A CalPig creation.
You may recite it at home for the enjoyment of family and friends, but do not charge admission, or you could be in violation of the copyright.
In that case you would hear from her attorneys at Laserhaas, Fat Che's Little Brother & Associates.
Thank you. I was scared you were going to go with the other one.
Little known fact. Only CalPeg had the creativity to see that it would take four blinks to bind that poem together and make it work. Three blinks would have just made things fall completely flat.
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document document document
Man, is that profound, or what?
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DUmmie poems stink
I think
A waste of ink
Blink-blink-blink
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1stupidblackman
KILL MY LANDLORD
KILL MY LANDLORD
C-I-L-L MY LANDLORD
KILL MY LANDLORD
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Man, is that profound, or what?
She used "document, document, document" because it rhymes with "chart".
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The word salads from coach franksolich's cousin nadin could qualify for poetry...on some level.
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DUmmie poems stink
I think
A waste of ink
Blink-blink-blink
O. M. A. S. :cheersmate: :lmao: H^6 or 7
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The word salads from coach franksolich's cousin nadin could qualify for poetry...on some level.
Yes indeed. Nad is surely a poet. I discovered that a while back. Below are a couple of examples.
Well, educating myself on fracking...
one side thing that I learned.
It could,
the process that is,
used in drinking water wells.
The other...
the gas fields in California
are in the central valley,
and off shore...
some off shore from San Diego,
Those fields are potential.
Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.
---------------------------------
Well off to get new SD cards,
I hate equipment failure...
they are there
just will not be read.
fracking frack.
At least I got enough
pictures for the story.
frack. frack. frack. frack.
http://conservativecave.com/index.php?topic=102036.msg1283618#msg1283618
http://conservativecave.com/index.php?topic=101971.msg1282937#msg1282937
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nadin is the only person I've ever known to claim SD card failure, not just once, but repeatedly.
I guess those flimsy little cards aren't designed for the stress of a pro journo environment.
Or maybe all those out-of-focus shots cause them to crack.
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Such strength
The masculine facade
Sharp flashing eyes
Tender fingers and tongue
The man dominates me.
His body, his mind
Overcome me.
He strokes, and licks, and drinks me.
And then he enters
I open and yield myself
I surrender to his strength, his passion.
My mind is overcome with what I cannot tell...
But it’s wrong
I dominate him.
For at the last–who yields?
At the peak of passion
He empties the aching seed
Into me...
:-)
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Such strength
The masculine facade
Sharp flashing eyes
Tender fingers and tongue
The man dominates me.
His body, his mind
Overcome me.
He strokes, and licks, and drinks me.
And then he enters
I open and yield myself
I surrender to his strength, his passion.
My mind is overcome with what I cannot tell...
But it’s wrong
I dominate him.
For at the last–who yields?
At the peak of passion
He empties the aching seed
Into me...
:-)
^^^^^^
She kicked him in the nuts.
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AAAAAAAAND, there it is. In all its aching glory.
:asssmack:
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I'd say Karin deserves a BS for posting that, were it in some random thread. But when you come to a thread about poems, expect at least one Calplop to surface. At least we don't have to worry about another Calplop surfacing for a little while, now that it's out of everyone's system. :tongue:
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CaliforniaPeggy Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Sun Apr-05-09 11:27 PM
Original message
Here's a silly little poem about my chin...
“Covered by a bandageâ€
There’s a bandage on my chin
The worst possible place
So prominent, so out there
So visible.
But it’s covering me
Up.
Making me acceptable
So I can go out
And not scare or offend.
Once upon a time
there were some odd cells
They lived in my chin
And nobody saw them
Not even me.
They quietly grew
Went about their business
Invisible to all
Yes, even to me.
But, you know, it had to happen
Slowly they were the worst thing:
Visible.
But even then,
They came and went
Visible and then ...
Not.
So I watched
And waited
To see what would happen.
The doctor thought nothing of them.
Not to worry
Just a pimple or something
They disappeared with that cream
And came back when I stopped it.
So much fuss
And mess
Be gone with them!
So now we know
And they’re gone
completely done for.
Basal Cell Carcinoma.
Their former home
is now a crater
Burnt and cut
Covered by a bandage.
So I can go out
And not scare
Or offend.
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OK, so I take it that it's not out of Karin's system yet. :lmao:
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OK, so I take it that it's not out of Karin's system yet. :lmao:
Blink, blink, blink, blink . . . :whistling:
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Please excuse DUmmy stevenumbers while he leaves for a quick change of clothes.
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Sat Sep 12, 2015, 02:30 PM
Star Member discntnt_irny_srcsm (9,835 posts)
What's your favorite poem?
Mine:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Typical.
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Here's a little something I call "Ode to the Obama Presidency"
(With apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which still survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Obama, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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My aching seed is empty but I have this for her ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewMkUDnQ-R4
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That poem featured prominently in the Charles Bronson movie "Telefon", an all time classic.