04-09-2014, 02:20 AM
Ah taking an old book to bed and getting cozy with it. Well, you know what they say, "There's no book like an old book!" Or at least I think that's what "they" say, but who are they, anyway? I'm starting to worry about you. did you have an aneurysm fighting dust bunnies, or where you mad at the world and decided to make everyone pay? There is something about this poem that just doesn't add up. I do not know how to approach it, as I am currently lacking in firearms, nor do I have a knife with which I might kill it. Maybe I can borrow the 1 of 3, that became the none of two.
"Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home."
"The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue"
You see there. You are loosing knifes at an abysmal rate. The way I count, and correct me if I am wrong, you originally had three (3) knives back home, and you bought one (1) new one. In my math class 3+1=4, yet now you seem to have only two (2). I'm afraid this poem may have stolen one from you, and what if it pulls it on me. So you can see, why I'd like to borrow the one of three. I assume it has gone where socks and the like wander off to. I have a door into that somewhat stuffed tesseract, maybe I can open it, find your knife and bring it back. Though to this poem I mean no offense, at least it would provide me with some defense. You can see that, can't you.
Oh say that you do,
and when I'm done,
I'll give it back to you.
Oils well that ends well, as we say in Texas; knife-lessly into the fray.
Well this is a mixed bag isn't it? As the with the knives a strange metamorphoses occurs.
"The day before I bought a book; I know it well"
You see, he knew it well, "alas poor yorick i knew it well, this book I bought, and old friend past, that I can cuddle like a lass.
"all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors from time’s past paragraph."
Oh well, no longer just a case of missing knives (and what would one do with so many), but now a missing mind as well.
"Something falls to the floor." I think it is your mind....
it could be your behind, but I don't think your memories in arrears...
I'm beginning to think it was not
"air from years ago" , but instead brain rot.
Not really, that would be unkind, besides
I don't really think my good friend Tam has broke off his stem,
No, I suspect more, he had a bottle of good Scotch in him.
Never you mind, I'll set things to write,
just let me borrow a little of your string and glue,
and a balled point-pen, I could use that too,
for pregnant pauses, put in a poem from a Tam who's mostly tight!
Good night sweet prints, good night.
Best,
Dale
"Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home."
"The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue"
You see there. You are loosing knifes at an abysmal rate. The way I count, and correct me if I am wrong, you originally had three (3) knives back home, and you bought one (1) new one. In my math class 3+1=4, yet now you seem to have only two (2). I'm afraid this poem may have stolen one from you, and what if it pulls it on me. So you can see, why I'd like to borrow the one of three. I assume it has gone where socks and the like wander off to. I have a door into that somewhat stuffed tesseract, maybe I can open it, find your knife and bring it back. Though to this poem I mean no offense, at least it would provide me with some defense. You can see that, can't you.
Oh say that you do,
and when I'm done,
I'll give it back to you.
Oils well that ends well, as we say in Texas; knife-lessly into the fray.
Well this is a mixed bag isn't it? As the with the knives a strange metamorphoses occurs.
"The day before I bought a book; I know it well"
You see, he knew it well, "alas poor yorick i knew it well, this book I bought, and old friend past, that I can cuddle like a lass.
"all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors from time’s past paragraph."
Oh well, no longer just a case of missing knives (and what would one do with so many), but now a missing mind as well.
"Something falls to the floor." I think it is your mind....
it could be your behind, but I don't think your memories in arrears...
I'm beginning to think it was not
"air from years ago" , but instead brain rot.
Not really, that would be unkind, besides
I don't really think my good friend Tam has broke off his stem,
No, I suspect more, he had a bottle of good Scotch in him.
Never you mind, I'll set things to write,
just let me borrow a little of your string and glue,
and a balled point-pen, I could use that too,
for pregnant pauses, put in a poem from a Tam who's mostly tight!
Good night sweet prints, good night.
Best,
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.