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5377. Ulgine Barrows - 12/3/2004 9:56:13 AM that was funny.
Boycott WalMart
They're nothing but hot farts
Sam's rolling over in his grave
Made in China
Is all I can find-a
Sam's "buy USA" edict won't behave
Boycott WalMart
They haven't got the right parts
Made a half-world away
5378. wonkers2 - 12/5/2004 5:04:08 PM Very good. Somebody should start a Wal-Mart poetry contest. 5379. Ulgine Barrows - 12/9/2004 12:23:54 PM You first. 5380. RickNelson - 12/19/2004 5:43:54 PM Walmart: EAT ME!
It went up fast, I live by the box,
though, once I went and saw Joe
Cotton weave, when I need socks
but, this box sells blended toe.
There used to be Jenny on the corner,
Her wares found along many a mainstreet,
sold off to pay the bank, and coroner,
The locals bend over for the boss, mistreat.
When hours they need, and health care to endure
they find Walmart's galore to end their faith,
end their desire, finalizing hope for verdure,
closing the town mind, to look for the Wraith.
Rickster,
Dec.,2004
5381. wonkers2 - 12/19/2004 6:10:24 PM Not bad! 5382. RickNelson - 12/19/2004 6:20:08 PM Thanks wonk.
I really like the lyrics above.
I miss the poetry. I nursed my daughter and son when they got extended cases of a cold. Then my wife got it, then I got it. Then my daughter got something or the same again. I was very busy keeping things clean and feeding the ill. Good thing I have this self-employment schedule. I love being home with Jacob all day, working a bit in the late afternoon and early evening. This is a fab life.
Best to all, and to all a great day. 5383. wonkers2 - 12/19/2004 10:05:52 PM R.I.P. Schrade
There once was a fine company called Shrade
Whose craftsmen in Ellenville fine knives made.
Until along came Wal-Mart and said
In China we got knock-offs hard to tell from a Schrade.
And now Wal-Mart sells only cheesy knock-offs instead of good Schrades.
The Schrade line at Wal-Mart has been replaced by "Winchester" knives made in China. R.I.P. Schrade.
The Schrade plant shut its doors in July 2004, ending the employment of 260 Schrade craftsmen. On October 26, 2004, the assets of Imperial Schrade were sold at public bankruptch auction, closing the books on 100 years of manufacturing fine knives in Ellenville, New York. Taylor Cutlery bought the rights to the Schrade name. 5384. Ulgine Barrows - 12/20/2004 7:21:48 AM I went to WalMart
I'm sorry
I was my own cashier
and they didn't pay me
Union people
I saw lots of stuff
On the aisles
That made me wonder
Who thought it would sell
Circus, circus
If I could light a fire better
I wouldn't venture in their doors
I checked myself
out of there.
5385. alistairconnor - 12/20/2004 2:01:11 PM I checked myself
out of there.
very powerful image, for me. Loony bin.
Perhaps I should try a Mal-Wart poem. A universal phenomenon. 5386. alistairconnor - 12/20/2004 2:02:05 PM Just spotted this :
Pissing in a river, watching it rise
Piss me a river, piss me a river
I pissed a river over you 5387. RickNelson - 12/25/2004 4:57:42 PM This is from today's "Poetry Daily":
A Winter Night in the North of Ireland
When surly winter ‘gins to blaw,
An robe himself wi’ frost and snaw;
See roun’ the ingle, in a raw,
The rural folks
Sit down and pass the time awa,
In cracks and jokes.
The grey haired couple cozey sit,
Weel pleased to hear the youngsters’ wit;
The guidman maks and coals the split,
And mends the fire,
And snuffs and smokes as he thinks fit,
Like ony squire.
The bleezin fire o’ sod and peet,
Gars some sit back, and ithers sweat,
And thaws the amaist frozen feet
O’ rustic Will,
Wha’ scoured the muirs, through snaw and sleet,
His e’e to fill.
The winsome matron at the wheel,
Wi’ canny e’e keeks at the chiel
She thinks wad fit her Jenny weel;
An sighs to see
Her careless smile, her heart o’ steel,
And scornfu’ e’e.
The waefu’ cause she needna spier,
Why Will, wi’ a’ his weel got gear,
Meets nae return but aye a sneer,
Frae foolish Jean,
For she remembers wi’ a tear,
Wha comes between.
Their cotter’s son, a canny blade,
Right skilfu’ in the wooin trade,
Set a’ his gins, and gript the maid
Fair by the heart;
Nor frae him could they keep the jade,
Wi’ a’ their art.
The rustic smokes, and talks o’ lear,
Or how folk may mak muckle mair,
By risin early, takin care,
An spendin nane;
Nor fails to please the runkled pair,
Into the bane.
They talk o’ houses, lan’ and kye,
When this ane calves, an that ane’s dry,
And how folk’s hurried, that maun buy
Baith milk an’ butter;
For plash o’ tea, it’s waur than whye, –
It’s but het water.
CONT., 5388. RickNelson - 12/25/2004 4:57:50 PM Neist tales o’ ghaists and magic spell –
O’ witches lowin out o’ hell,
And tricks o’ Nickie-ben himsel’,
Gae roun and roun,
Till ilka youngster thinks, pell mell
He’s comin down.
But time, that flies though we sit still,
Brings roun’ the hour, that sorry Will
Maun cross the eerie glen, or rill
O’ murmurin lay:
The auld son puts him owre the hill,
And points the way.
Glossary
a’: all
baith: both
bane: bone
e’e: the eye
frae: from
gars: compells
het: hot
ilk, ilka: each
ingle: fireside
kye: cows
lear: learning
lowin’: flaming
mair: more
maun: must
nae: no, not
neist: next
Nickie-Ben: friendly name for the devil
o’: of
raw: row
runkled: wrinkled
spier: to ask
whye: whey
wi’: with
Source: Poetic Sketches descriptive of The Giant’s Causeway
and the Surrounding Scenery: with some Detached Pieces,
by John McKinley, Dunseveric, Belfast, 1819
5389. wonkers2 - 12/25/2004 5:35:28 PM Wal*Mart,
Foul*Fart.
5390. Ulgine Barrows - 12/27/2004 7:51:56 AM Won't you please read my signs, be a gypsy.
Tell me what I hope to find deep within me.
Because you can find my mind, please be with me.
Of all the better things I've heard,
Loving you has made the words
And all the rest seem so absurd,
'Cause in the end it all comes out unsure.
-Eric Clapton
5391. Ulgine Barrows - 12/27/2004 8:00:33 AM
 5392. Ulgine Barrows - 12/27/2004 8:11:50 AM MONKEY IN YOUR SOUL - Steeley Dan
I got one and you want four
It’s so hard to help you
I can’t keep up with you no more
And you treat me like it’s a sin
But you can’t lock me in
You want me here with you right to the end
No thank you my friend
I fear the monkey in your soul
Won’t you turn that bebop down
I can’t hear my heart beat
Where’s that fatback chord I found?
Honey don’t you think it was wrong
To interrupt my song?
I’ll pack my things and run so far from here
Goodbye dear
I fear the monkey in your soul 5393. Linnea - 12/27/2004 9:22:49 PM Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "It's Christmas eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it's been awhile,"
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.
The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian,"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere."
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from, I think magic's in the learning,
Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.
- - continued - -
5394. Linnea - 12/27/2004 9:23:23 PM When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year,
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve, saying,
"Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave,"
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old,
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.
Dar Williams, "The Christians and the Pagans" 5395. RickNelson - 12/28/2004 7:49:52 AM Dar Williams official web site
Hi Linnea. I'm not sure, but for some reason your nickname looks familiar. I mean from the Mote, though maybe another thread. Welcome and thanks for sharing something new. I've not read of Dar Williams before your post.
You've likely noticed, this and some other threads are slow most of the time. Once in awhile there's a gathering.
The old links on the right have all gone to the Fray Archive. Though the order and personal listings are lost. I've not spent any time deleting, largely because I regret that all that work compiling disappeared.
One of these days I'll clean it up.
Here I want to say hi to Ulgine and Wonkers2. You too Alistair and NuPlanetOne.
I've noticed some Jexster, Jenerator and others.
resonance pops in too, once in awhile. I go back and reread a lot of his. And others.
5396. Linnea - 12/28/2004 7:26:43 PM Hi, Rick. I'm relatively new here and haven't posted much, but I know some of the characters here from Worldcrossing's "Random International" and "All Things International" boards.
Resonance is currently known as Angelfive, is he not? He is indeed a fine writer.
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