[lit-ideas] Re: On the prospect of World Peace
- From: "Lawrence Helm" <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Thu, 7 Sep 2006 16:19:37 -0700
Let us examining this dust more closely
"What think you of Chilson's thrust at warlike Lawrence,
Was it not neatly done, a skillful sucker punch?
Though Lawrence replied as cleverly as he might
There's ne'er the wit in both his stanzas
As is contained in that one Chilson phrase,
Ah I can hear it now, the thrust served
Sweet and there poor Lawrence lies
His poor sides heaving with the pain."
"Are you quite sure? I fail to see the blood
And his groaning seems exceedingly like
Glee." "Well, then a proud thing it must
Be to laugh when thou art slaughtered and
In the dust. See how brave Chilson
Disdains to use his own fell thoughts
But sends mere Henry to the fore
As a champion of old might send
An underling to a foe not worth his time.
And who can tell how well the Dream
Song fits the thoughts of Steve? Was
That not nicely done? Poor Lawrence
If he has the stamina to look up now
Will be befuddled by the wit that John
Through Henry and thence to Chilson
Sends him with the wag of a monstrous tail.
It is of Length to stir more dust on the stricken
Jarhead. It takes not six but one bored
Dog to bury him as we see. But wait, he stirs
While Chilson stands with arms akimbo."
Then, one two through and through
Steve's vorpal blade exclaiming. He took
His hat and galumphed back while
Henry's dog sent forth a log while straining.
-----Original Message-----
From: lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx]
On Behalf Of Steve Chilson
Sent: Thursday, September 07, 2006 3:39 PM
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: On the prospect of World Peace
On Thu, 7 Sep 2006 14:52:21 -0700, "Lawrence Helm"
<lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx> said:
>
>
> Nature abhors a calm so the dust stirred beside the rock.
John Berryman
Dream Song 14
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) "Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no
Inner Resources." I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as Achilles,
who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.
--
Steve Chilson
stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx
Other related posts:
