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Post by clusium on Jan 17, 2018 22:29:33 GMT
Just put the person on ignore. Problem solved. But then the OP wouldn't be getting to impose their sensibilities on everyone else, and what would the fun in that? Uhm....how is being annoyed a spam topics imposing one's sensibilities on everyone else?
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Post by Vegas on Jan 17, 2018 22:54:23 GMT
There once was a poetry thread On a board that it would seem was dead Tried to come up with a rhyme Couldn't do it in time And wound up falling flat on my head.
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Post by maya55555 on Jan 17, 2018 23:36:43 GMT
猫ちゃn う。
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Post by theoncomingstorm on Jan 18, 2018 1:24:41 GMT
Hey, not every board can have its own racist, sexist horrible poet.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 2:19:57 GMT
But then the OP wouldn't be getting to impose their sensibilities on everyone else, and what would the fun in that? Uhm....how is being annoyed a spam topics imposing one's sensibilities on everyone else? Because the clear implication is that there should be action taken against the thefleetson, rather than geode simply using the block feature.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 4:02:16 GMT
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see; It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan: "It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone. Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."
A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May." And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see; And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside. I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door. It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm— Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
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Post by BATouttaheck on Jan 18, 2018 4:39:33 GMT
original by mikef6More bad poetry; a limerick, no less.
A brash cavalier named geode Was unable to reap what he sowed. He insulted this crew And then before he knew He found that his row had been hoed.
Try tho' I may, I cannot locate the typo rachelcarson1953 and since this was not a "typo police" issue it's driving me ier !
Who’s up for turning this into the “off-topic, bad poetry” thread? Nalkarj
and maybe Doghouse6 ?
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Post by rachelcarson1953 on Jan 18, 2018 4:47:23 GMT
original by mikef6 More bad poetry; a limerick, no less.
A brash cavalier named geode Was unable to reap what he sowed. He insulted this crew And then before he knew He found that his row had been hoed.
Try tho' I may, I cannot locate the typo rachelcarson1953 and since this was not a "typo police" issue it's driving me ier !
Who’s up for turning this into the “off-topic, bad poetry” thread? Nalkarj
and maybe Doghouse6 ? After I pointed it out, mike went back and edited it in the original post, before you copied and pasted. For the record.
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Post by BATouttaheck on Jan 18, 2018 4:52:53 GMT
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Post by rachelcarson1953 on Jan 18, 2018 4:55:20 GMT
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Post by mikef6 on Jan 18, 2018 5:22:54 GMT
original by mikef6 More bad poetry; a limerick, no less.
A brash cavalier named geode Was unable to reap what he sowed. He insulted this crew And then before he knew He found that his row had been hoed.
Try tho' I may, I cannot locate the typo rachelcarson1953 and since this was not a "typo police" issue it's driving me ier !
Who’s up for turning this into the “off-topic, bad poetry” thread? Nalkarj
and maybe Doghouse6 ? I edited it out after I found it. Even with her telling me there was one, it took me a while. Some people like rachelcarson and My Lovely Wife are just natural proofreaders. Starting the last line, I had typed "His found..." I couldn't see it because I knew what it was supposed to say so read right over it.
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Post by Nalkarj on Jan 18, 2018 5:26:31 GMT
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee. ... Love that poem. Just read it to some friends and family around Christmastime, and they liked it too.
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Post by Eva Yojimbo on Jan 18, 2018 6:55:43 GMT
More bad poetry; a limerick, no less. A brash cavalier named geode Was unable to reap what he sowed. He insulted this crew And then before he knew He found that his row had been hoed. I'll try one: There once was a poster named Geode Who dropped by to say that he loathed A poet and spammer With the art of a hammer And beautiful grace of a tree-toad
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islandmur
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All religions have messages of peace and love yet all religions are used for wars and hatred...
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Post by islandmur on Jan 18, 2018 14:23:22 GMT
Create some discussion topics. Or maybe bump some interesting topics with your thoughts and opinions. This is kind of a weird reaction to some harmless poetry threads. This poetry controversy is a lot like the ruckus bluebell was causing a while back. And I'll say the same thing I said back then. Quirky users add something to the community. And this place would be worst without them. I miss Isha Isha and the guy that use to write in quotes?
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islandmur
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All religions have messages of peace and love yet all religions are used for wars and hatred...
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Post by islandmur on Jan 18, 2018 14:25:33 GMT
...that is spammed all over the place. I was correct to abandon coming here months ago. Sorry for dropping in, a waste of my time. Goodbye again Don't get this. Do you come here to read poetry? this is not a poetry board, so why should few bad poems make you leave? Just ignore them or us.
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Post by clusium on Jan 18, 2018 14:31:50 GMT
...that is spammed all over the place. I was correct to abandon coming here months ago. Sorry for dropping in, a waste of my time. Goodbye again Don't get this. Do you come here to read poetry? this is not a poetry board, so why should few bad poems make you leave? Just ignore them or us. Its not your poetry that he is complaining about, Islandmur.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 14:51:10 GMT
...that is spammed all over the place. I was correct to abandon coming here months ago. Sorry for dropping in, a waste of my time. Goodbye again Don't get this. Do you come here to read poetry? this is not a poetry board, so why should few bad poems make you leave? Just ignore them or us. Geode was referring to thefleetsin. Your poetry is excellent. rachelcarson1953 on the first page of this thread had it just right.
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Post by BATouttaheck on Jan 18, 2018 15:07:56 GMT
I am a habitual reader of "recent posts / threads" and am often surprised when I look at just which board I am on when I read a post. It's striking me "odd / interesting" that geode is fussing about the poetry and not about the "How Do You Wipe Your Backside ?" thread posted here on "Religion, Faith and Spirituality". Perhaps as an outsider to this area, I am missing something about the purpose of the board ?
edited to add
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Post by mikef6 on Jan 18, 2018 15:32:46 GMT
I am a habitual reader of "recent posts / threads" and am often surprised when I look at just which board I am on when I read a post. It's striking me "odd / interesting" that geode is fussing about the poetry and not about the "How Do You Wipe Your Backside ?" thread posted here on "Religion, Faith and Spirituality". Perhaps as an outsider to this area, I am missing something about the purpose of the board ?
edited to add I visit this board occasionally (as I did on the old boards) because in a former, much younger life I considered a Vocation and even got a little formal education in Theological Studies. As with the old boards, the threads only rarely are a discussion of actual theological or religious issues. The majority of threads are either pushing an extreme right-wing religious/political agenda or are frivolous or off topic. Still, there is sometimes some fun to be had – such as this thread.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2018 15:44:10 GMT
I am a habitual reader of "recent posts / threads" and am often surprised when I look at just which board I am on when I read a post. It's striking me "odd / interesting" that geode is fussing about the poetry and not about the "How Do You Wipe Your Backside ?" thread posted here on "Religion, Faith and Spirituality". Perhaps as an outsider to this area, I am missing something about the purpose of the board ?
edited to add Good point about geode’s selective fussing – I seem to remember that, some months ago, he frequently posted lines from the song, “Do You Believe in Magic,” which added immeasurably to this board :-}. Still, there is some good discussion here if you know where to look.
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