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Post by Maolsheachlann on Jul 10, 2018 16:06:47 GMT
Is it about Michael D Higgins reading about post Modern movies while drinking expensive whiskey in the presidential library? The last line is obviously a clear reference to the last 7 years of joy , new thinking and general progress for humanity. Of course it is! I've been overcome with remorse for all the posts on this forum referring to him as a Marxist leprechaun etc. and wanted to do some suitable expiation.
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Post by cato on Jul 10, 2018 17:47:58 GMT
No doubt your eyes brimmed with tears of pride as he announced this afternoon he was prepared to sacrifice himself for the nation for another seven years. Your poem would look good on his election posters.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2018 16:32:40 GMT
Death Notice
The Old Grey Lady died
Not as noble as she allowed
But liked to think she tried
And carried herself unbowed
Heart failure was the cause
Leftward ever straining
No time to reflect or pause
To what end attaining?
A distant heir bears the name
None mistake her for the same
No pretense of her virtue
No code too sacred to eschew
Good-Bye old thing
We were never friends
But your loss does sting
As darkness on the Times descends
Note: The Old Grey Lady is a the sobriquet given the New York Times in former times denoting its distinction as a newspaper of record that adhered to certain standards of journalism that now seem nearly extinguished.
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The Salon
Aug 3, 2018 18:59:17 GMT
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Post by cato on Aug 3, 2018 18:59:17 GMT
Death Notice The Old Grey Lady died Not as noble as she allowed But liked to think she tried And carried herself unbowed Heart failure was the cause Leftward ever straining No time to reflect or pause To what end attaining? A distant heir bears the name None mistake her for the same No pretense of her virtue No code too sacred to eschew Good-Bye old thing We were never friends But your loss does sting As darkness on the Times descends Note: The Old Grey Lady is a the sobriquet given the New York Times in former times denoting its distinction as a newspaper of record that adhered to certain standards of journalism that now seem nearly extinguished. The Irish Times claims to be our Dublin based paper of record and is referred to semi-mockingly as the Old lady of D'Olier St ( Its' former location) I presume the Times Newspapers in various parts of the Anglosphere are copying the British tradition that The(London) Times is "the paper of record".
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Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2018 19:05:31 GMT
The NYT has a special history in regards to being a paper of record. Seems that during WW2 rationing of ink and paper shrank the size of the paper. The Times main competitor cut back on less important news and kept up its advertising. In contrast the NYT chose to cut back on ads and keep up being "a paper of record". This marked the ascendency of the NYT which they never relinquished.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2018 16:11:52 GMT
Strange Neighbors
The crazy old woman
Seldom seen
Alive but quite apart
From the nearby world
Neighbors in
Close proximity,
but living miles away
Not seeing
Nor caring to see
Enfleshed foibles.
Preferring gossip
To unpleasant contact.
Then the plates shifted, upheaving.
Police, ambulances,
and revelations
rushed by.
How shocking to find
The body of her husband
Lying abed for a decade.
But why shocking?
How can an act of not seeing
Lead to shock?
Why not say indifference courts squalor,
Instead?
Hard realities
Lying close to home --
Conveniently ignored.
But not seeing
Is not … not being.
So the disorder steadily gains.
Until we wake up shocked
That the world has buckled,
Under our feet.
f'Man Bocera
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The Salon
Aug 10, 2018 17:05:14 GMT
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Post by Maolsheachlann on Aug 10, 2018 17:05:14 GMT
Strange Neighbors The crazy old woman Seldom seen Alive but quite apart From the nearby world Neighbors in Close proximity, but living miles away Not seeing Nor caring to see Enfleshed foibles. Preferring gossip To unpleasant contact. Then the plates shifted, upheaving. Police, ambulances, and revelations rushed by. How shocking to find The body of her husband Lying abed for a decade. But why shocking? How can an act of not seeing Lead to shock? Why not say indifference courts squalor, Instead? Hard realities Lying close to home -- Conveniently ignored. But not seeing Is not … not being. So the disorder steadily gains. Until we wake up shocked That the world has buckled, Under our feet. f'Man Bocera You have a unique style!
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Aug 10, 2018 19:32:26 GMT
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Post by cato on Aug 10, 2018 19:32:26 GMT
On a similar theme an American (white male you know privileged type) poet was recently condemned on social media for daring to write a piece about a homeless man in the July issue of the Nation. Poet Anders Carlson-Wee responded by actually agreeing with his keyboard critics and apologised for his class appropriation.
'I am listening closely and I am reflecting deeply . I am sorry for the pain I have caused. Treading anywhere near to blackface is horrifying to me and I am profoundly regretful.....I am begining a process of talking to people and re-evaluating what it means to make art on this world from a place of privilege.... '
The magazine also apologised for publishing the poem in the first place.
Eunuchs without spines...
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Post by Maolsheachlann on Aug 10, 2018 20:02:14 GMT
On a similar theme an American (white male you know privileged type) poet was recently condemned on social media for daring to write a piece about a homeless man. He responded by actually agreeing with his keyboard critics and apologised for his class appropriation. I ll post his name later. It's in the current UK Spectator. Puke.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2018 20:04:05 GMT
On a similar theme an American (white male you know privileged type) poet was recently condemned on social media for daring to write a piece about a homeless man. He responded by actually agreeing with his keyboard critics and apologised for his class appropriation. I ll post his name later. It's in the current UK Spectator. The goal of Marxist re-education is self-denunciation and a welcoming of the correction to foster correct thinking.
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Post by Tomas on Aug 11, 2018 7:54:36 GMT
On a similar theme an American (white male you know privileged type) poet was recently condemned on social media for daring to write a piece about a homeless man in the July issue of the Nation. Poet Anders Carlson-Wee responded by actually agreeing with his keyboard critics and apologised for his class appropriation. I fear his Swedish ties (Anders is a distinctly Swedish name!) has psychologically bound him to repeat those PC responses much like a puppet clad with the hammer and sicle! "I apologise for thinking… saying… being…" along with "We apologise for letting him…" smacks of the Red language.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 11, 2018 13:47:43 GMT
On a similar theme an American (white male you know privileged type) poet was recently condemned on social media for daring to write a piece about a homeless man in the July issue of the Nation. Poet Anders Carlson-Wee responded by actually agreeing with his keyboard critics and apologised for his class appropriation. 'I am listening closely and I am reflecting deeply . I am sorry for the pain I have caused. Treading anywhere near to blackface is horrifying to me and I am profoundly regretful.....I am begining a process of talking to people and re-evaluating what it means to make art on this world from a place of privilege.... ' The magazine also apologised for publishing the poem in the first place. Eunuchs without spines... The Church used to teach that while it was each man’s duty to follow his conscience, it was also his duty to have a well-informed conscience. This man bears witness of the crippling idiocy of modernist education. A key duty of art is to explore themes that may be uncomfortable for others in pursuit of truth. Anders has abandoned and aborted that duty, pretending that doing so is a virtue, instead of an act of cowardice. “Listening” and “reflecting” on what the mob would dictate is a pointless excercise. Unless he recovers his manhood, he will spend the rest of his career writing platitudes that flatter the Revolution – but Soviet-era art was sterile and banal and he will serve as little more than being a greetings card poet.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 11, 2018 19:18:31 GMT
Auntie Trolling
Auntie Trolling
Hated Bowling
Such, that she lived
Inside the lanes
Pitching more balls
Down the gutter
Than any who
Played it for love
f’Man Bocera
Note: Sarah Jeong was hired by the NY Times despite a history of anti-white male racist tweets, which were explained as an exercise in anti-trolling.
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Post by Maolsheachlann on Aug 17, 2018 10:00:34 GMT
I wrote yesterday and I'm pleased with it.
(I hope more people start posting on this thread, or I will be suspected of using it merely as a channel for my creative endeavours!)
The mind has its seasons. It has its summer, winter, autumn, spring Its seasons of searching and remembering Its seasons of waxing and waning, its seasons of slumbering.
The mind has its seasons. It has its pulses, rhythms, cycles, turns, The hour that freezes and the hour that burns.
The mind has its seasons And its seasons do not give way Until the appointed term, the rightful day.
The mind has its nights and days It hast its mornings, lit by the sun's bright rays. It has its midnights under the pale moon's gaze.
The mind has its times of quest When it seeks the furthest, highest, best, The hour when we rush with joy to the hardest test.
The mind has its weariness When all it seeks is silence, loneliness, Darkness, stillness, caverns fathomless.
The mind has its eras, too; Its revolutions, forging itself anew; Basking in daybreak and bathing in morning dew;
It has its revivals, seeking out older ways, Kindling again the embers of earlier days Praising the light primeval with twice-born praise.
The mind has its seasons, strange and mysterious. The mind has its long descents to the dark abyss. The mind has its mountaintop moments of indescribable bliss.
The mind has its seasons...what season is it now? Seek not the things that the season will not allow. The season will change, though you know not when or how.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2018 16:13:37 GMT
Burke Said It Best
Burke said it best:
A culture must conserve.
Revolutions that raze their history,
Sire squalor and mayhem.
A champion of liberty
Wed to rational authority
And cohesion to the past.
Preserving while renovating.
Reckoning the radical as poison.
Seeing the ruin in passion & mobs
Warning us:
“when bad men combine,
the good must associate;
else they will fall, one by one,
an unpitied sacrifice
in a contemptible struggle”.
The sinew of tradition
Holding the frame together
Advancing to a better future.
Good change owes its debt to the past.
Good change owes its debt to the past.
f’Man Bocera
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