Posted on 10/21/2009 11:08:06 PM PDT by skybear
I am as free, from any mountain, to roaring pristine sea, this land of majesty, agreat constitutional people reign,, My mustagn spirit uncontrolled, free to roam, I go,, great spirits we are unfold, the herd as on untold, freedom isn't free for show,, Tyrany has many aname, different faces as well, can strip your spirit lame, herding you a new game, from foreign or domestic swill,, Fight as a mustagn might, full of snort with rage, your freedom is loosing sight, of tyrany of consistent fight, or windup in a cage,, America has lost moral ground, loosing your freedoms everyday, you've lost the majestic sound, the herds running fast aground, against strength as one display.
I recognize that.
It’s iambic nutsometer.
I take it that man had relations with that horsie and now feels bad about it?
Don’t worry.
That’s Eeyore. He’s helping Pooh get the honey jar unstuck from his nose.
Didnt Rudyard Kiplign say that?
Ask Ceiling Cat, and He will provide.
I hope that if I ever wait for six years to do something I would do a better job than this guy!
Thoreau once said that “Most men live lives of quiet desperation, and go to their graves with the song still in them.”
Skybear has at least sugn his sogn.
(adn he may well have created a semi-undead thread)
The poem is perhaps patriotic. Reply #1 is provocative and seemingly unaware of the spirit in this part of cyberspace.
[ya know....I remember *my* first beer]
Who needs drugs when you have FR.
Somebody ping Dennis Hopper.
I'm in the mood for a stoned firelight soliloquy on UFOs.
[BTW....would you like to be a bird?]
Damn it.
Do you have *any* idea how hard is to get drool out of your keyboard?
ROFLMFAO!!!!!
*Perfect*!!!
Here it is in Haiku:
poster grips the keyboard
while even his muddled muse recoils
from the snortings of mustagns
“Most men live lives of quiet desperation, and go to their graves with the song still in them.”
To which Jesus replied, “Go and do likewise”....:)
Tuesday I had some time to kill in a flea market, having been abandoned there by Himself while he went motor shopping in the local junkyard.
There were no fleas worth having so I went to the antique store next door.
In the middle of the floor sat a Victorian era upright piano.
A few tentative pokes found most of the keys still working.
After fiddling about and having to drop 2 octaves because of so many “dead keys” near middle C, in the somber, almost religious atmosphere of the snooty upscale antique market, the other patrons were shocked by the first few bars of a darker version of “Aqualung”.
[I tried to pick it out quietly so no one would notice but damn, did that place ever have great acoustics. when I stopped, I looked up and noticed dozens of disapproving glares. I think I may have committed some sort of vintage sacrilege]....:)
*shrug*
Coulda been worse...coulda slammed out “Locomotive Breath” instead.
What’s really scary is that you can just pull these things out of the æther, at will.
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