Amy's Place .. Poetry and Potpourri .. July 7-8, 2004

7-7-04 | JustAmy, St.Louie1, MamaBear and Billie

[JustAmy]

Welcome To....


'Amy's Place' welcomes all poets
and those who enjoy poetry. 'Amy's Place' is more than just about poetry.
Come in, relax, and share with fellow FReepers
your thoughts about any of the things on the *Menu*.

Enjoy! :)












Never Forget!



Howdy!
I'm the mouser at Amy's Place. Amy named me 'cootblanch'.... (don't ask why. hahaha)







Amy's personal guardian ~
the always charming, lovable, huggable,
LouieWolf




Many thanks for stopping by. : )

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

I like your poem, Darks, very fitting for a place like Amy's.

[JustAmy]

I have an appt so I must get!!
Hope to see everyone later this evening.

[Darksheare]

Thank you.
An incomplete fragment.
My muse is very sadistic like that.
If she were human, she'd look and act like Shannon Doherty.

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

LOL! My male has never been outside except to sneak out. Our old female used to be outside and brought live stuff in for us too. One day she brought me a bird which quickly found it's way into a tube I had on the floor beind the couch (Thank you, Lord!). It was then easy to transport the lucky bird back out to the wilds. I think the cat was a little disappointed. The male cat I had at the time never caught anything to my knowledge. Then one night I heard something hitting the front door. He had a big dead rat on the front porch playing kitty hockey with it! He was so excited! He'd jump in the air like the thing was alive and fighting back! It was funny!

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

C YA TOMORROW! Have a wonderful evening!

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

Going home for the day, have a wonderful evening!

[tuliptree76]

Yum! The recipes sound delicious!

[Conspiracy Guy]

bye

[OESY]

Great find! Finally, I found some (music only--no published lyrics) songs:

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is this month's Edison Record's super double feature of:

1.) an 1911 concert cylinder recording of "I Wish I Had All the Silver in the Silvery Moon," sung by Billy Williams, and

2.) from 1904, "Down on the Old Plantation," played by the Edison Symphony Orchestra.

Thomas A. Edison with Cylinder Phonograph
Washington, DC; April 18, 1878

Our super double feature may require RealPlayer, ironically

Bob: Note most of the above songs in Post #147 were released in 1904,
the year of your father's birth. This is a special commemorative package.

"Clancy's Prize Waltz Contest"
by Len Spencer, Edison Record

"Glorious Beer" as sung by Mister Dan W. Quinn
for the Columbia Phonograph Company of New York and Paris

"Uncle Josh Weathersby Gets a Letter from Home"
by Mr. Cal Stewart, Edison Record

Edison Standard Phonograph

"El Capitan March Medley" from John Philip Sousa
played by Issler's Orchestra

Banjo solo, "The Stars and Stripes Forever March"
played by Mr. Ruby Brooks of Brooks and Denton, Edison Record

"Our Victorious Nation March" played by the New York Military Band,
a stirring march which echoes strains of our national airs,
a feature that ever appeals to the typical American.
The air is bright and snappy. Just the kind to keep the feet a-going
while the Record is being played. Composer, J. Lincoln;
publishers, Vandersloot Music Publishing Co., Williamsport, Pa.

Edison Advertisment: Author's Collection

[OESY]

Oops! That ain't you, that's Fred St. John! Sorry!

No problem. Fred and I look a lot alike. I find photography very relaxing.

[SAMWolf]

[Darksheare]

LOL!
NiMH has a habit of bringing baby bunnies home and letting them loose in the kitchen.
He tried to do that with a bird, but mom stopped him at the door right off.

He's only played like you described with voles.
He's 'paw thinged' them until they squeaked and then looked up at us like "Isn't this GREAT?!"

[Darksheare]

See you tomorrow.

[Diva Betsy Ross]

Thanks! That is really cute :] Have a great night... Queenie(of typos).

[NicknamedBob]

I really appreciate the effort, but just to set the record straight, Dad was born in ought-five.

However, that would mean that he was CONCEIVED during the Spring of 1904 ... perhaps after someone heard some lovely music on that new-fangled "Phon-o-graph" !!

It coulda happened that way...

Sorry I haven't been able to hang around much during the daytime. Trying to catch up now.

CG, let me see if I have this Poemist vs. Poet distinction right. Here's one I wrote in honor of Trikebuilder, but I think it might fit you too.


Tripping over the Tripod


I place each little gem with a meticulous delight.
And then allow my lips a smile to think I’ve got it right.
Each word must form a cadence like some beads upon a string,
And form a rhythmic lullaby if one should choose to sing.

Concatenating rhymings like the buzzing of a saw,
When someone hears the words they will be mesmerized with awe.
The mechanistic ticking of monotonistic tocks,
A sturdy dancing metronome within a room of clocks.

You dash upon the scene as with the flourish of a cape,
Bedazzle me with brilliance til my jaw begins to gape.
You spin and point out vistas that have been within my grasp,
If I had not been sunken in my tidy little task.

And up you leap upon the wall to gaze upon the land,
You reach into your pocket, and with a flashing hand,
Splash wild colors across the sky, of a bright and starlit night.
And sing a song of derring-do up to the pale moonlight.



NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . .February 27, 2004


My point here was that I was the one being mechanical, and had my eyes opened to the poetic vistas around me by someone who didn't worry about the mechanics of poetry, but awakening people to its beauty and charm.


By the way, PAL, if you want to know how someone does something "Magical" just figure out how you can do it, and chances are, that's the technique he used, too.

[Conspiracy Guy]

I was toying with you writing from the heart and me from the head. We both do a mixture.

You fell for it!

[NicknamedBob]

The classic picture of Sir Isaac Newton shown using the prism has white light entering on one side, and every color spreading out on the other.

I write poems from every angle I can think of, bantering, cocky, humerous, as well as serious and inspirational. Then all those different facets feed into the prism from the opposite side, and come out as black and white words. I distill every way of looking at things, and at life, into what I have to say about it.

Not every thing I write has purity and piercing clarity, but every expression comes from the entirety of my experience, and my feelings about the world. And nothing ever has only a single meaning if I can help it.

Brother.

[JustAmy]

We will be spending the weekend on a new thread. Come join us over here

[Conspiracy Guy]

We are peas in a pod.