Tags
Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;, Eye aye, Hey Hawkeye, I met her in the museum of paleontology-And I make no bones about it-I said if you wish to study dinosaurs-I know a specimen whose interest is undoubted, I'd like to give you just the right amount and get some change, Metta to one and all, Remembering surrendering, Remembering that part, the tooth of the matter, Violet is dead-Rose is blue-This is the old folk's home-Everyone has the flu
A few chosen bits pilfered from his ‘Valentine‘.
I like your cheeks, I like your nose,
I like the way your lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your teeth
(Half above and half beneath)
In rows.
I like your eyes, I like their fringes.
The way they focus on me gives me twinges.
Your upper arms drive me berserk.
I like the way your elbows work.
On hinges …
I like your wrists, I like your glands,
I like the fingers on your hands.
I’d like to teach them how to count,
And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.
I’d like to give you just the right amount
And get some change.
I’d like you in my confidence.
I’d like to be your second look.
I’d like to let you try the French Defence
And mate you with my rook.
I’d like to be your preference
And hence
I’d like to be around when you unhook.
I’d like to be your only audience,
The final name in your appointment book,
Your future tense.
Oooooo… my, my, MY! This is SO delicious Esme! Can I add my particular “love” stanzas? Please, please, PLEASE!!!? It is so very apropos for Valentines.
Well, a dark maniacal Valentines. (very evil grin)
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Hmm. No smirking, licking, or devil horns. Thems tha rules. If you concur, give it your best shot and I’ll edit the hell out of it until it’s feasible for consumption.
esme falling about but quite serious upon the Cloud
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Hahahahaha! Are you sayin’ my sort of “loving” is less than publicly consumable without hypnosis, chemical tranquilizers, or police protection!!!?
(rolling around falling about with Esme on her steamy Clouds!)
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In a nutshell — Yes.
Hahahahahaha.
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No. Step away.
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Utter gloriousness! Most days I stop and think to myself, “This breathing affair is annoyingly persistent, isn’t it?”- but then I read things like this and I’m happy the breathing made it possible.
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Yes! I know some find poetry exceedingly dull, yet the right words in the right order can bring bliss to the soul and heart. I’m really pleased you like this Mr Pink. ❤
esme giving Mr Pink a hug and a sticky bun the size of his head upon the Cloud
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Ah, but Mr. Pink, so much depends upon how you interpret that last line . . .
“Your future tense”.
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“And certain things we might exchange,
Something familiar for something strange.”
Love it.
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Great line, humour plaited with love. I’m glad you like it Chris.
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I love it. The images it conjured in my mind of me and my own loved one. It send shivers down my spine and joy through my heart. Now I have a plan for morning when my love comes home. 🙂 Hugs
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It has everything I want from a poem, (though I have cherry-picked my favourite parts) — standing tall and fabulous with all the shmaltz that comes on this day at its feet. I hope you and Ron have a lovely day Scottie.
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Thank you wonderful one. It was a great start already. Hugs
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Sigh…
This is one of those things that I just don’t get. My mind is too literal to make sense of most poetry. I can sometimes eventually decipher it into something I understand, by which time it has condensed itself down to no more than a sentence or two.
My autistic brain can’t find any reward for the effort in trying to interpret poetry. When I see how much pleasure others get from poetry, I do wish I was able to do so too.
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Oh Barry, – hugs him, I feel for you, it’s hard being on the outside of something like that I’m sure. There will be much beauty than you ‘see’ that others don’t too though I reckon, minds clicking away – so many varities and variables within. You have a fine heart in there – raps on his chest with her knuckles
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Oh yes, the stars (and we in the southern hemisphere are blessed with their abundance), sunsets, a small child making a new discovery – there are so many things that move me. What I can’t do is share these emotionally with others. It gets lost in the “translation”.
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I’m glad you are moved by them, along with the clear ability to speak of these problems and reach out to others.
esme smiling at Barry upon the Cloud
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I wondered at first if Fuller was playing with double meanings in that last line, Esme, and having now read the full version am beyond all doubt! I can only assume that the scepticism in the first of your ever-resplendent tags reflects this same understanding on your own part. Mettā, always. H
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I always have to go and have a look at my post when someone says something like that, in order to find out what I’ve been up to. Hahahahaha. However, no, I was not with that particular tag, although I did see the two possible meanings and thought it very clever for it. And I cherry-picked these bits to dive specifically into the rich velvet passion of the piece.
You see my tag goes like-a-this in full (or part of the full text ’tis from);
‘Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.’
It’s a hefty declaration. No matter how bad things may appear, no matter what may seem truth, or what appears as a lie, never doubt the strength of my love. It’s very powerful, almost fierce, yes, fierce! Like a spell! I like it. Can you tell? I’m rhyming now, so I best stop.
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Aha, I see, the verse (in your comment, not Fuller’s) is saying we can be sceptical of all that we wish, of all that exists in the known universe, other than towards the sincerity of the author’s love. I suppose that’s the difficulty with love: the lover can seldom find words that convey the depth and sincerity of feeling? It’s almost a frustration, or at least it is for those like myself less poetically inclined. H ❤
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Yes, and it becomes all the more tricky when people are communicating in text alone, which is why I suspect many people get angry or upset reading words that were meant in jest, especially where affairs of the heart are involved. Or they’re just pants at communication, as you say, the feelings are there, but they come across as blunt. Such power in words, or the lack of them at times.
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I love the way you say my name
I love the way days are never the same
’cause you’re my man and I’m your dame
but this here poem is most pitifully lame.
Ha,,it’s our anniversary, had to save the good stuff for my lovie ❤
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Hahahaha. Lucky chap methinks — thank you for your poem! I have ‘I Loves You Porgy’ in my head now, which is no bad thing.
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When we get down to coding the virtual consciousness of robots and machines, I hope John Fuller’s logic and ineffable yearning can serve as a model. Imagine, if you will, a photocopier that winks at you or an unmanned toll booth that teases you with a limpid smile, saying seductively in a susurrus that you are the afterglow of a sunset. Valentine’s Day, 2067.
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“saying seductively in a susurrus that you are the afterglow of a sunset.” – That’s a bit like saying you’re the wind after a good curry — nothing like as good as the main attraction – laughs, but that would fit well with AI. By then mind you we will be able to upload our consciousness into machines ourselves, and being capable of choosing any exterior look we fancy may well lead to compliments moving away from the physical, and into the tech status — “Oh David, your data bank is so big, I only hope I have the capacity to fit all your knowledge and stats inside my titanium skull (baby)”.
All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace – Richard Brautigan
I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.
I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.
I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.
Personally, I’m not as keen as Richard to get there. I like our diversity (for the most part), I can hang on for another thirty, but then . . . load me up Scotty . . .
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I can’t wait for the day when we will be half-human, half-machine, having, by way of example, one fleshy nostril and one nano-nostril, one bony knee and another made of silicone–for then we will know the meaning of remorse.
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lol – I appreciate the tongue in cheek, but my days of romantic notions are long past. Valentine who? Hope you have a good one though. 🙂
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Never say never . . . winks smiling
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lol – any dreams of romance I still harbour are safely sublimated into fiction…where they belong. 😀
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