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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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by, this is really good! What is sonted, please? I LOVE the rhythm of this: extra-hemispherical, interequatorial, cheating paid back in full Share some more any time, Sweetie.
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Carpal Tunnel
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OP
Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
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DARKLING SUMMER, OMINOUS DUSK, RUMOROUS RAIN
by Delmore Schwartz (1913-1966)
1.
A tattering of rain and then the reign Of pour and pouring-down and down, Where in the westward gathered the filming gown Of grey and clouding weakness, and, in the mane Of the light's glory and the day's splendor, gold and vain, Vivid, more and more vivid, scarlet, lucid and more luminous, Then came a splatter, a prattle, a blowing rain! And soon the hour was musical and rumorous: A softness of dripping lipped the isolated houses, A gaunt grey somber softness licked the glass of hours.
2.
Again, after a catbird squeaked in the special silence, And clouding vagueness fogged the windowpane And gathered blackness and overcast, the mane Of light's story and light's glory surrendered and ended --A pebble--a ring--a ringing on the pane, A blowing and a blowing in: tides of the blue and cold Moods of the great blue bay, and slates of grey Came down upon the land's great sea, the body of this day --Hardly an atom of silence amid the roar Allowed the voice to form appeal--to call: By kindled light we thought we saw the bronze of fall.
© 1959 by Delmore Schwartz
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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AUTUMN
by Yevgeny Yevtushenko (1933- )
Inside me the season is autumn, the chill is in me, you can see through me, and I am sad, but not altogether cheerless, and filled with humility and goodness.
But if I rage sometimes then I am the one whose rage is shedding my leaves, and the simple thought comes sadly to me that raging isn't really what is needed.
The main need is that I should be able to see myself and the struggling, shocked world in autumnal nakedness, when even you, and the world, can be seen right through.
Flashes of insight are the children of silence. It doesn't matter, if we don't rage aloud. We must calmly cast off all mere noise in the name of the new foliage.
Something has apparently happened to me, and I am relying on nothing but silence, when the leaves laying themselves one on another inaudibly become the earth.
And you can see it all, as if from a height, when you can shed your leaves at the right time, when without passion your inner autumn lays its airy fingers on your forehead...
--from Bratsk Station and other new poems © 1967 by Yevgeny Yevtushenko
[Note: Yevgeny Yevtushenko is regarded as the foremost Russian poet of the late 20th century, whose work is viewed with the same special esteem by his countrymen as Pasternak and Pushkin before him.]
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Carpal Tunnel
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ELECTION DAY IS A HOLIDAY
by Ogden Nash
People on whom I do not bother to dote Are people who do not bother to vote. Heaven forbid that they should ever be exempt From contumely, obloguy and various kinds of contempt. Some of them like Toscanini and some like Rudy Vallée, But all of them take about as much interest in their right to ballot as their right to ballet. They haven't voted since the heyday of Miss Russell (Lillian) And excuse themselves by saying What's the difference of one vote in fifty million? They have such fine and delicate palates That they can discover no one worthy of their ballots, And then when someone terrible gets elected They say, There, that's just what I expected! And they go around for four years spouting discontented criticisms And contented witticisms, And then when somebody to oppose the man they oppose gets nominated They say Oh golly golly he's the kind of man I've always abominated, And they have discovered that if you don't take time out to go to the polls You can manage very nicely to get through thirty-six holes. Oh let us cover these clever people very conspicuously with loathing, For they are un-citizens in citizens' clothing. They attempt to justify their negligence On the grounds that no candidate appeals to people of their integligence, But I am quite sure that if Abraham Lincoln (Rep.) ran against Thomas Jefferson (Dem.) Neither man would be appealing enough to squeeze a vote out of them.
© 1947 by Ogden Nash
[Note: The first Tuesday in November is US election day (hint,hint)]
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Carpal Tunnel
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Along this way No travellers. Dusk in autumn.
--Basho¯ (1644-1694)
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Inside me the season is autumn, the chill is in me, you can see through me, and I am sad, but not altogether cheerless, and filled with humility and goodness. Ohh, thank you, Sweet WO'N--this is me right now. What an utterly lovely, insightful piece.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Fortelling amber colors leave no doubt leaves will be falling. Icy winds soon notorize winter's gloom.
Me - Now
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Heavy-hearted, i watch ever more leaves of brown a-spiraling down, down; leaping now, around and around as i look unseeingly into the chill, noting nothing but the gnawing not-here-any-more.
Me - Now
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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the crisp swish of leaves, the smile of the sound. the smile of my son, the crisp swish as he leaves.
Me - now
formerly known as etaoin...
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