[yarddog]

This poem has an interesting history.

I found it in a room after all the employees had gone home for the Summer. I thought it was interesting but not great. As luck would have it I recently ran into the composer. It turns out the one I found was just a rough draft.

Here is the final poem. BTW there really was a beautiful girl named Shanda working there too.

Fair Shanda

It must have been life, safe from sorrow, Shanda sought.

Sweet as candy, so we thought.

To clear her heart of sin she fought.

Safe, in solace, life She sought, free from sinning passed on years, shame and sorrow wet with tears.

Then grace displaces all the fears.

And her sweetness seeks it's place, scarred but safe to end the race.

When Shanda sees him face to face, and faith secures amazing grace.

Safe from sorrow in all ways.

Forever ever and always.

But Shanda chose the world.

Sullen, sneering, selfish taught to whatever sin She want.

Scarlet sin, and little thought as mind and soul twist and taunt.

Then in anger, tears are caught, conscience cruelly, coldly fought, over those whose chance was naught.

So she makes her conscience halt.

Written words which hurt and haunt.

Writhing rhythms, weirdly wrought.

Drilling depths of thrilling thought.

Chilling visions seeing fault, of one who crossed her and was caught.

Then life reduced to nearly naught.

Someone's kindness briefly bought, then thrown away with little thought.

By now the bloom of Shanda's flower is fading nearly by the hour.

Shanda's life redeemed by then, and yet another ------------?

[Destructor]

Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding

Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile egg shell mind...oh wait...it's been done.

[WarmLiquidGhoo]

What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Blah blah blah blah blah blah bla
blah blah blee blah blue

I wrote that...

[EternalVigilance]

The Citizen Soldier

The American soldier
Is an every-man
One reason we revere them
Is that we know
If they can do it
If they can be brave
All of us can

From the farms and factories
From the mines and from the fields
Come the best we have produced
America's precious yield

Over and over they misunderstood
These tyrants who laughed and scoffed
Their miscalculation was fatal
Thinking we as a nation were soft

But America protects its own
Our people and our friends
And by the grace of God
May it be so to the end

By EternalVigilance

[b9]

Yielding to God,
letting go human will,
is a natural task
for the peaceful and still.

[William Tell]

  Ode to Despair

From their fear of Cruz and Gray Davis
The Rinos beseech, "Arnold, save us".
No principled talk
of Tom McClintock,
mutes their pitiful pleas to enslave us.


With only honor and good for protection,
From the Dems we expect just rejection.
So, let's melt down our guns,
kill our daughters and sons,
and embrace sodomy to win this election.

[Fester Chugabrew]

Thanks a ton, but I'm not one to win a bun or baldly banter about who won, so I'll lurk until the fun is done.

[doug from upland]

All his enemies worked toward his fall

But the Gipper stood up to them all

Freedom's flags were unfurled

His six words changed the world

"Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall"

[carlo3b]

California, Mommas and dem Pappas Worryin about the polls

The pundits say you can't, I know that isn't true
poke out dem little chads, that's all you have to do!

It be just another hole that you have to poke tings through
I've seen those toddeling tots that sure do look  like you

I know that you can do it, you've done it many time before
just look at all those little tikes runn'n and crawl'n on the floor

Yo California, Pappa, it can't be worrin you
poke out the little chad, thats all you have to do

Just think of it as foreplay, and grab it by the tail
and poke those little chads you know jus like those bros in jail

Thats it!... thanks ... *<]:oP~
 
 

[From The Deer Stand]

Clark and Kerry and Edwards and Dean,
The strangest candidates you’ve ever seen,
Can’t talk solutions or contributions,
Just bashing Bush, they’re simply mean.

All the Rats know is how to attack,
They keep on spewing their political hack,
On the campaign trails, hoping that Bush fails,
A solid message is what they lack.

But the public is start, much more than they guess,
Bush is optimistic, the Dems are far less,
And bashing away as they do it, we all can see through it,
Knowing their message is geniune B.S.

[AD from SpringBay]

A nurse, an abortion

When holding a plastic uterus
a suction tube, moving them
in imitation of the scrubbing
this is when women will ask
the most secret question.

I am speaking tissue and the contents
and the woman suddenly says,
"How big is the baby now?"
a quiet need for definition.

It isn't so odd. After all,
she feels relief when I describe the
bulbous shape, it's miniature nature.
I gauge, and sometimes lie a little,
weasling around infantile features
until the clinging power slackens.

When I look in the basin,
among the curdlinke blood,
I see an elfin thorax, attentuated,
pencilline ribs all in parallel rows
with tiny knobs of spine rounding upwards.
A translucent arm and hand swim beside.

[doug from upland]

All minorities really should note

Lefties ought to be getting their goat

Our words they've not heeded

Like children they're treated

They are told they're too stupid to vote

[Consort]

Reactivate The Poetry Branch of Free Republic

[No.6]

Ash and sweat begrimed
Four firefighters strive as one
To raise Old Glory

[GOPyouth]

Here I sit in deadly vapor,
Wishing for some toilet paper.
How long, I wonder, must I linger,
Before I'm forced to use my finger?

-bathroom walls

[Sloth]

OK, this is more limerick-ish...

In college, I lived in a dorm with community bathrooms, and evidently some of my neighbors had been remiss in their flushing duties, because this cloying bit of verse appeared on the bathroom wall:

There was once a man so clever,

He made a little lever,

That when you pulled down

It made such a sound!

And your toilet was clean forever.

---

As sympathetic as I was to the cause, I couldn't let something so sappy go by without comment. So I got on the computer and produced a 'sequel' in the same font & everything:

That lad so dapper,

His name: Thomas Crapper.

We revere him in a curious way;

When one empties his bowels

The bowl he befouls

Still bears Tom's name to this day.

[GOPyouth]

Here I sit in deadly vapor,
Wishing for some toilet paper.
How long, I wonder, must I linger,
Before I'm forced to use my finger?

-bathroom walls

[Old Professer]

Dark
Light
Night
Day
Dark
Light
Dark

[4mycountry]

Bucket Barf Bags!
When your tummy get queesy,
And the room starts to whirl,
Don't try to hold it,
Give us a hurl!
Bucket Barf Bags! The only way to throw!...up!

*bucket barf bags © 4mycountry*

[4mycountry]

One of my favorite poems of all, for some unknown reason...very powerful.

-----

In darkness let me dwell,
The ground shall sorrow be,
The roof, despair, to bar,
All cheerful light from me.
The walls of marble black,
That moistened still shall weep,
My music, hellish, jarring sounds,
To banish friendly sleep.
Thus wedded to my woes,
And bedded to my tomb,
Oh! Let me living die,
Till Death; till Death do come.

-Dowland