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Friday, September 5, 2008

Easy Does it, Kids

It's Friday nite. I can't believe my luck, hehehe. I didn't think I would get home till tomorrow but the group I was visiting was doing everything they could to get this shit tied up today, so we did.

Then, I get home and find my wife heading off with her Mom to have dinner with some friends. And, so what do I do?

Something that I never stated here is that I love poetry. There are some forms of poetry that absolutely crack me up. There are the ones with the little messages being pooped out at the end. Anyway, Ogden Nash. gets to me and one of our friends, Weemaryanne has come up with some weeners. In fact, I found out a while back that we share a favorite poet, Robert W. Service. He was a gypsy from eastern Europe, landed in the Yukon, his stuff is on the net (Try, "The Cremation of Sam McGee." But I digress.............................

Make no mistake, I have even been boo'ed on my own blog for posting poetry, and I know I risk your ire if I do it here. But like I said, It's Friday nite and you people need to take a break and be a little less serial. MMK?

***Whispering***Billy Collins is hilarious , read his poem, "The Dead." (the video is better) Billy is our contemporary.


And more back to the point, my daughter found this one and sent it to me last week. She says she hates poetry, yet she's frequently reading it....hmmmmmmm.

This one is by Nazir Qabbani, and you gotta love a guy whose name starts with a Q and there is no U. He was a Syrian, died in '98. His wiki bio is fairly compelling. I can't believe I was not aware of him at the time. I hope you can see what is as funny about this as I did, and I am not sure what language he wrote it in, but ...let me know what you think. And if you don't like it, I don't give a flying fuck. /dale
OK here we go,



When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
I possess the earth and everything on it
and ride into the sun upon my horse.

When I love
I become liquid light
invisible to the eye
and the poems in my notebooks
become fields of mimosa and poppy.

When I love
the water gushes from my fingers
grass grows on my tongue

when I love
I become time outside all time.

When I love a woman
all the trees
run barefoot toward me...

Nizar Qabbani

Throw all the rotten fruit you want!
And to make sure I stay on topic, Ray Comfort is an *expletive deleted.*






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