Do those with memories as long as mine, remember Blue Nun, a factory made wine? Have you heard they're trying to remarket this muck? Will the elephant drink it, or perhaps the duck?
I, with memories as long as thine, remember Blue Nun, that factory made wine. If, indeed, they're trying to remarket this muck. I have but one word for this travesty : Yuck!
I remember Blue Nun, or at least, I should; I believe that I must have thought it was good; I remember a dance floor, and bottle number two; Don't remember much more--next day, I did rue!
Should we try to reinstate the questionable track, Interrogation foremost as we try to answer back?
(Second thought edit:
If you're troubled by the scanscion, can't you make it Ogden Nash-y, Who wasn't too bothered about the last line scanning or anything like that, but always came up with a rhyme, even if it was rather trashy?
Would RhubarbCommando believe when I say that meaning I know of my use in this way is that "mute" as intended meant "unspoken" as such and "decided upon in advance"? Would we crutch
our selves up as we wandered away from the pub? Would we stagger and sway "with speech a clear lacking" as "mute" would abstain? Is difference in meaning inside just my brain?
Will anyone get that "moot" sits right in here with the pun I intended 'bout drinkin our beer to the point of absorbtion that none should attempt? Why a duck? Why not an elephant?
Is there an echo..cho...cho... in here...ere...ere?
Sweet musick, I got your mute point, I say; No wondering moment, no kind of delay; I knew what you meant the instant I read it; No need to go back and ask for an edit.
I understand you sometimes, and that kind of scares me; With caution I enter your verse, and that dares me To try and untangle your words convoluted: A task to which I am not sure I'm suited.
But one thing I've noticed from you and Sparteye; You both mention drinking with CapK, and no lie-- I'm wondering if CapK won each of you over Or did each of you try to hold on to this rover?
By plying with drink, did you think, "I might keep him From all other parties who so earnestly seek him"? Or was it his choice, all these drinks to knock back, The better mem'ries to have once back on his track?
Where can we find WOW and rodward today? Will they be 'habiting Blue Nuns' a'way? I ask to dear Maverick of his choice of two of which of these tricks do you choose to be true?
Hey, where is our Avy to drink to our honor whilst RhubarbCommando's moot point is still pondered? And why should I worry 'bout dear Jackie blue that her grasp of my words, she professes, has clue?
When CapK and SWMBO and Sparteye and I all woke up with headaches and pains behind eyes, do you think there really was means to an ends? Or could it be just for few moments with friends?
Does it seem from a simple couplet's refrain That we've jumped on the Longfellow/Tennyson train? Will these epics of booze and elephantine duck Take us back to a glimpse of primordial muck? And in the race to ace the year's fondest guest Who will clamor to bogart his time like a pest? Is share drink, share nomad, share fowl the best rule? Can we forsake all question to ponder our drool? In this threadular marathon if we continue to scheme Will we get what we want, or continue to dream?
Wow surely is mourning for Katharine Graham; Rodward is home, frying up Spam; RhubarbCommando his pint is enjoying, And maverick is his tuition employing.
And Avy, sweet Avy, where are you, my dear? Place your words, Dear Heart, without any fear; We love you, my friend, we watch for you daily-- You are our sunshine, without you we're palely
Groping in darkness, each other upholding; Come back and you'll see that our love is enfolding; CapK (and SWMBO) and Sparteye and musick All good friends now, and welcome back, Rubrick!
And I, sweet musick thinks has a clue; Well, dearest musick, I surely do love you; But that love alone is not nearly enough, For as nuts-to-crack go, your mind is quite tough!
A plaint I've received, and 'tis not in vain; WhitmanO'Neill's not in that refrain; So here he is named, in a verse all may read; He authored this thread; my love I concede.
Hullo every one, but isn't rhyming a strrrain To put words together in a wine addled brain? Why am I trying to keep to Whit's concern prime All rhymes must be questions, and questions rhyme? Thank you for the mention, dear M and dear J I'll drink some more to honour you both, okay?
Would RhubarbCommando believe when I say that meaning I know of my use in this way is that "mute" as intended meant "unspoken" as such and "decided upon in advance"? Would we crutch
My apologies, musick, will you please accept For missing the point, and being inept?
And to Jackie and all of the rest of my friends, For being so tetchy, may I make amends?
How red is my face? How deep is my shame? Is my credibility shot down in flames? Oh, woe is me--how could I have missed it? The point is questions--how could I have dissed it?
Is the gang all here? Are you as glad as I am (Will you excuse me a minute while turn this fried Spam?) the gagging order has at last been lifted? So which of the company is the most gifted, at this rhyming couplet thingy? So, who cares? What's this in the wine cellar under the stairs? Blue Nun? Isn't that an old habit we can well do without? Who'll join me instead in a whisky and stout? Who's sober enough to hold the glass steady? Oh, you're not all going - just when the Spam's ready?
Dare I not continue when dear Avy sighs That she'd like to see more before this thread dies?
And as turkey gestalt makes this existential scene Can we read it's road-crossing as Fritz Pearls would a dream?
(Will a note help to clear the above bio reference As one Frederick Pearls of Gestalt Therapy preference?-- And bring to mind works of his greatest repute, "In and Out the Garbage Pail" and Esalen Institute?)
O Avy! O Musick! What you draw out from me!-- Do you plot these weird reaches of strange poetry? Can a jerky b'youngbalt clue ignite crooked rhyme? Is our turk such a fool, or just absent of time? And can Jackie's new silence erupt with sweet light, Or will it just add a notch to our deepening plight? And all other rhymees ne're named in this breath Pipe up or Jerk Turkey will soon meet his death!
Am I reluctant, my silence to break? Would it truly be such a tremendous mistake? Could I have resisted an invite so true From anyone other than Whitman? No, who?
Why do these couplets, of Suess make me think? Are Rhuby and Avy thus driven to drink? I think I will join you and from now on be lurky; And from where in the world came that goldanged old turkey?
Were dear deceased Fritz Perls to read this here thread He'd holler at W O'N "Off with his head!" Or maybe he wouldn't, since as Herr Gestalt, He'd just cite some swine and not assign fault.
As for the turkeys and other things fowl, I'll quote Allen Ginsburg and quietly 'howl.'
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