I have already agreed with that mate, and its in the past. we are now several days on and trying to move forward.

gekrompen hoofd: If you read through the posts you will see that is the reason we are looking at a solution. This board is about expresing ones self, and through the means of poem, verse or sonet. The baiting of users and mods alike is not poetry??

If we weed out those posts then this board has the potential to return to what it was.

Its not about deleting posts, or banning users, merely making the content more appropriate to the description of the board.

Even people that look for trouble can post an amazing poem on an occasion LOL But if you approve all pawn posts then you will also stop future violations from occuring?

Im just thinking of the best, the quickest and the most reasonable way to bring this board back to what it used to be. A simple look back in time and the board transforms to somthing amazing, I for one would like that back :)

I think the only issues will ever be with pawns, paying users have too much to loose by abusing the board.

Im sure the pawns that dont cause trouble would not mind at all having to wait a while for their post to be approved?

Perhaps the best moderation tact for this board is that all PAWN posts should be approved?

Purple: So now you are the one lecturing, threatening and censoring in place of Usurper because of your superior taste, intelligence and judgement? Uhhhh..that dog won't hunt

Not at all, im simply requesting that BJ follows the rules for the board, the posts that were originally hidden were fine, the new ones are heading in a direction that 'MAY' cause concern to some, therefore I have made a request. One that if not followed 'MAY' lead to the deletion of posts, editing of posts.

As for my superior knowledge? I doubt that anyone could call my knowldge of poetry more superior to Gregs, he has in the past written some fantastic stuff.

And erm....hunting with dogs was banned, didn't you hear?

Bruno Jesus:

Freedom of expression is one of the most fundamental rights that individuals enjoy. It is fundamental to the existence of democracy and the respect of human dignity. It is also one of the most dangerous rights, because freedom of expression means the freedom to express one's discontent with the status quo and the desire to change it. As such, it is one of the most threatened rights, with governments - and even human rights groups - all over the world constantly trying to curtail it.

This however does not give anyone the right to post what they want where they want, this board does have rules and as such it would be appreciated if you followed them. I did 'unhide' your posts originally because they were fine (by poetic standards), however if you continue to post in your current vain then im afraid your posts will be removed.

Yes, very well said Donna

Notes on the poem:

Maghermurphy (line 2) - a townland around Kilkeel, a fishing village in Co. Down
Binnian/Cock and Hen (line 6) - two peaks in the Mourne Mountains
Kingdom (line 7) - The kingdom of Mourne, which prides irself on being a 'separate' place
Whitehaven (line 13) - a fishing port in Cumbria, England
Carson (line 19) - Edward Carson, Unionist leader who opposed Home Rule for Ireland; in an earlier incarnation, he prosecuted Oscar Wilde
slieves (line 24) - anglicised version of Irish word for 'mountains', e.g. Slieve Binnian'
prods/taigs (line 27) - pejorative terms for Protestants/Catholics

Appears on a prominent UVF website, again though is this reason enough to ban my poem?? Whilst I do not agree with actions from any paramilitary group operating in Ireland the poem itself is outstanding!!

I think that since this board is public a few 'more detailed' rules need to be added, this will then allow all moderators of the board to fully decide when action is required.

Simply being a moderator does not give that person the right to delete posts they think are pointed at them or not up to 'thier' standards. Nor does it give reason to hide a user for posting poems with words that are offensive to certain communities!!

Example:

Fishers of Men
You’ll grow no spuds
in stony Magheramurphy.
The glaciers saw to that,
streaming their roundy droppings
in the brown earth, easing
from Binnian and the Cock and Hen;
so the people of the Kingdom
turned east in sturdy boats
and went to hunt the herring.

Today they’re doing it still,
forcing from subsidised harbours,
beating boats through coiled waves,
landing slippery silver at Whitehaven,
foiling the auctioneers’ ring,
losing arms to rolling hawsers,
leaving their sons in the sea.

When word pulsed from smoking Belfast,
pounding like lambeg drums,
heartbeat of Carson’s covenant,
they brought home a heavier harvest,
oiled in sacking, lugged from decks
and loaded clanking in trucks,
Larne-like in the watchless dark.

And they sit in bars below the slieves,
proudly swap tales of stalked shoals,
pausing to watch in deadpan bulletins
catch-crops of prods and taigs, trawled
in the brass-jacketed nets
woven by their fearful labour


Now am I or any other member from belfast to take offence at that because of our religion? Id like to think we can all see past the secterian usage and see the POEM!!

I think the moderation of this board has gone to pot, Poetry is as diverse as the people we have on BK. My idea of poetry may not match that of another member and vice versa, but for people to be hidden in such a manner is pathetic im afraid.

This board was a great place when a person was free to post what they felt was poetic!! You have given reasons such as 'offensive to the majority of the population' yet i recall only seeing 2 maybe 3 protestes to the posts? thats not majority to me.

Donna, please remove me as co-mod of this board please. I dont wish to share the honor with those that are all to willing to abuse it as some sort of higher authority on poetry.

I have been a bit busy just. but back now ;o)

And nice to be seen ;o)

Nice to see that some boards just stay the same............BRILLIANTLY EXCITING :o)

1963 -- ABINGTON SCHOOL DIST. v. SCHEMPP -- banned school-directed recital of the Lord's Prayer and reading of Bible passages as part of "devotional exercises" in public schools.
1980 -- STONE v. GRAHAM -- banned the posting of the the Ten Commandments on public school classroom walls.
1985 -- WALLACE v. JAFFREE -- banned observance of "daily moments of silence" from public schools when students were encouraged to pray during the silent periods.
1990 -- WESTSIDE COMMUNITY BD. OF ED. v. MERGENS -- held that schools must allow student prayer groups to organize and worship if other non-religious clubs are also permitted to meet on school property.
1992 -- LEE v. WEISMAN -- outlawed prayers led by members of the clergy at public school graduation ceremonies.
2000 -- SANTA FE INDEPENDENT SCHOOL DISTRICT v. DOE -- banned student-led pre-game prayers at public high school football games.

O Kangaroo, O kangaroo,
Be grateful that you're in a zoo
And not transmuted by a boomerang
To zestful tangy kangaroo meringue.

Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the duck to the Kangaroo.



'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but "Quack,"
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land and over the sea;—
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.



Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.



Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!


Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
All in the moonlight pale;
But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy,—O who,
As the duck and the Kangaroo!


by Edward Lear (1812-1888)

as there has been too much negativity around lately :o)))

Christmas is near and we are apart,
But the love for you I hold in my heart.
A walk in the snow together again,
Your presense is here, its on the wind.

Stars are shining, I can picture your eyes
They sparkle and shine as they gaze into mine
Beams from the moon extend in the light
Creating this paradise, this night

I close my eyes, and imagine your arms
Clasping around me, holding me tight
A breath blows past my ear
Or was that a kiss, from your loving lips?

A wish on a star and a prayer to god
A letter to Santa, i need u here
For the only gift i would cherish you see
Is you in my arms on christmas eve

I gaze out my window, now nearly midnight
will my wish come true, was i good this year?
A knock on my door, I Stop, I catch my breath
My heart a flutter, Could it be?

I RUN to open the door, what do i see
A dream come true, you are there with a bag of love and its ALL for me.

xx for da Kanga xx

Happy xmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL (i thought id get that one in early since the last one was late)

I like it, does that make me Biased again??

...poem today and the writer (a very beautiful young woman that has stolen my affection) gave me permission to put it here for comments, as they are unsure of their ability. Personally I see talent , but I could be biased ;o))

The difference a day makes:

As I stood at the airport awaiting the departure call,
I feel nervous.
Flying alone was scary.
I thought about my settled life to pass the time.

arriving safely at my destination
I was excited about the next 24 hours
Drinking, dancing and having fun was the plan.
Let it begin.

The night crept away,
and as it did I was unaware it was taking my settled life with it.
Something changed and it felt good.

LOVE

Arriving back at the airport the next day,
again I felt nervous.
but not about flying, about the changes in my heart.
flying is no longer scary,
because as i spread my wings,
I know you are there to catch me if i fall.

Physically the journey ended,
But emotionally, it will never end.

I think you just did :o)

Nah, just have a book called 1001 Poems to keep you sane. It is in it ;o)

BESIDE MY FIRE by
Adam N. Reiter

LMAO - not yet Harley :o)

LOL - no! I have trouble with the IT skills as it is ROFL

Brilliant poem from the finest Anti-War poet of all time. This link is one I used in an essay about the poem, video and naration!!

http://www.anzacs.net/CinemaOwen1.htm

Sheer brilliance.

Stunning Usurper! Can I see a big KM love affair beginning here? ;o)

Yeah a big one, thats a better idea i'll just beat them.........erm.........you mean of gum??

Yeah all you top players just watch out!! I have come to win checkers games or chew gum. And im all out of gum! ROFL

BRAINKING FRIENDS

I have an amazing group of friends,
As dear as they can be.
I love them all, but sad to say,
Most I'llnever get to see.

The only claim I have is that
When I feel sad, alone or blue,
I get on line, play games and chat.
And maybe find someone who feels it too.

They give love, support, opinions and such,
Which I can take or ponder much,
But...sometimes I round a bend
And Lo!! I'll make a brand new friend.

Feel bad, or sad?
Just plain sick:
Got an attitude or habit you want to kick?
"Its ok", your friends will say,
"We've all been there before,
A time or two, just like you".

We know the ups, the downs,
The highs, the lows,
The "I-could-kill-that-so-n-so's".
The pain and strain, of getting through
The leave-takings without adieu.

We've seen it all, the been-theres done-thats,
We've worn all the different hats,
That makes us each uniquely "us",
And when we want to make a fuss,
We come online and find the equalizers,
The friends, who become our sympathizers,
Who know, feel, wish, and pray,
When you both know there is nothing more to say--
But an online friend,
WILL say it anyway....

TNP

This epitomizes the KM Family :o)
and my two serogate sisters Medic & Harley!! LOL

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

_Anon

Second time around reading it for me. ASTOUNDING!! :O) WTG

Through Our Hearts

My Internet Friends

You are in my heart daily

I travel the world with each of you

Through your eyes



Through our hearts we share our joys

Our happiness, sadness and hopes



Through Our Hearts

We see no imperfection

We learn to love the mind and soul

Our typewritten words are as real

As if we were sharing coffee in the same room



Through our hearts we learn of your family

and Through our hearts you become part

of my extended family



I wish for you , all the happiness and joy

I would wish for my own children and friends



Through our hearts we learn the importance

of sharing and caring and love.

My internet friends have enriched my

life, my mind and soul and have restored the

faith in mankind.



I care not what you look like, the colour of

skin, the nationality or religion you are.

We learn to love and care for the person we

know you to be.



What a blessing it is to know, any time of day

or night we can turn on our computers and talk

to our friends far and near.

Though our hearts, we are never alone

-Anon

The poem was written by Leo Marks (age 60)when he heard about the death of his fiancée in a plane crash in Canada. The full details are given in his very readable book "Between Silk and Cyanide".

I may not know how well it was translated, I do remember the competition though!! And the song! Is inspirational (in any language!!)

When boyhood’s fire was in my blood
I read of ancient freemen,
For Greece and Rome who bravely stood,
Three hundred men and three men;
And then I prayed I yet might see
Our fetters rent in twain,
And Cymru, long a province, be.
A Nation once again!

A Nation once again,
A Nation once again,
And Cymru, long a province, be
A Nation once again!

And from that time, through wildest woe,
That hope has shone a far light,
Nor could love’s brightest summer glow
Outshine that solemn starlight;
It seemed to watch above my head
In forum, field and fane,
Its angel voice sang round my bed,
A Nation once again!

It whisper’d too, that freedom’s ark
And service high and holy,
Would be profaned by feelings dark
And passions vain or lowly;
For, Freedom comes from God’s right hand,
And needs a Godly train;
And righteous men must make our land
A Nation once again!

So, as I grew from boy to man,
I bent me to that bidding
My spirit of each selfish plan
And cruel passion ridding;
For, thus I hoped some day to aid,
Oh, can such hope be vain?
When my dear country shall be made
A Nation once again!

Upon your creation, God broke the mould
a beautiful vision to behold.
The envy of both Kings and Queens
for a beauty so fair they would risk many things.
Beauty so fair cannot be duplicated
though many have tried they have as yet to make it.
You enter a room and men fight for a try
to have one so lovely stand by their side.
But the beauty that I find I cannot deny
is the beautiful heart that is kept deep inside.
It's the beautiful heart of the fairest of Queens
a beauty reserved just for fairy tale dreams.
When I look in your eyes I see love that's so true
it outweighs all physical beauty seen in you.
You see, true beauty is not found in magazines
it cannot be whipped up with make-ups and creams.
True beauty's a blessing, a gift from above
and can only be seen through the kind eyes of love.
And my vow to you now so the whole world can see
is to treat you with the same love you show to me.
Love so strong it weakens the strongest of men
I feel my love for you growing again and again.
If I have but one wish to wish before I die
it will be to forever have you at my side.…

Yes indeed Cariad, very good.

I can just picture your house like that Granny!! Kettle on the hob and a warm welcome!! :o)

And oh what a try it was. Excellent :o)

Fantastic Medic!! Although you really didn't have to write one about me ROFL!!

That is deep danoschek, but very good indeed!!

LOL - I would imagine non to pleased :o)

LET THE WORLD'S PEOPLES SHOUT



Have you noticed how time-free a person is
when approaching a new language?
Yes, you stumble over consonants,
postpone vowels,
encumbered with all the armour of your longing
for the conquest of expresssion.
And yes, your tongue is like
a baby bumping along on its bottom.

Well then, let each of the world’s peoples learn
the excommunicated language of its neighbour,
yes, creep and crouch in corners,
lose sleep in messing it up,
since this is how tenses will be deleted.
The past will not come fluently on the tongue.
The language of today will stay. It will sue for peace,
pull down all the barbed-wire verbs.
The imperfect will never be so perfect
as when it ceases to exist.

And cleft, split, and rupture will be
made whole in the open mouth.
Each new learner will have the memory
of correcting constructions,
picking up one’s bed, rectifying speech.

There will be no time for spreading hatred,
since the tribes will be overcome
by the riches of all the founding stones -

And through the babies in Babel
a yoke will be raised, a United Languages heal
in freeing oneself, freeing in sowing the seed.

I like yours too Cariad, although can't get much translated correctly?

Excellent Harley!! A clear ten for the challenge if ya ask me!! :o)

Awesome Granny :o) Sheer Poetry!!

Both excellent Usurper and CurrentRiver.

I know how you feel about the boards, it is super :o)

......Why did half these men not make to the seats of power?? Could have prevented lots!



MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN, A DIRGE


I

When chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One ev'ning, as I wand'red forth
Along the banks of Aire,
I spied a man whose aged step
Seemed weary, worn with care;
His face was furrowed o'er with years
And hoary was his hair.


II

'Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?'
Began the rev'rend sage,
'Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Or haply, pressed with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began
To wander forth, with me to mourn
The miseries of man.


III

The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
Where hundreds labour to support
A haughty lordling's pride;
I've seen yon weary winter sun
Twice forty times return,
And ev'ry time has added proofs
That man was made to mourn.


IV

Oh man, while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time!
Misspending all thy precious hours,
Thy glorious, youthful prime!
Alternate follies take the sway,
Licentious passions burn,
Which tenfold force gives nature's law
That man was made to mourn.


V

Look not alone on youthful prime
Or manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,
Supported is his right:
But see him on the edge of life,
With cares and sorrows worn,
Then age and want (oh, ill-matched pair!)
Show man was made to mourn


VI

A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap caressed;
Yet think not all the rich and great
Are likewise truly blessed.
But oh! what crowds in ev'ry land,
All wretched and forlorn,
Through weary life this lesson learn --
That man was made to mourn!


VII

Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Enwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn,
Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!


VIII

See yonder poor, o'erlaboured wight,
So abject, mean and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toil;
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn --
Unmindful, though a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.


IX

If I'm designed yon lordling's slave,
By nature's law designed,
Why was an independent wish
E'er planted in my mind?
If not, why am I subject to
His cruelty or scorn?
Or why has man the will and pow'r
To make his fellow mourn?


X

Yet let not this too much, my son,
Disturb thy youthful breast;
This partial view of humankind
Is surely not the last!
The poor, oppressed, honest man
Had never, sure, been born,
Had there not been some recompense
To comfort those that mourn!


XI

Oh death -- the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the best!
Welcome the hour, my aged limbs
Are laid with thee at rest!
The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow,
From pomp and pleasure torn;
But oh, a blessed relief for those
That weary-laden mourn!'





Robert Burns (1759--96)

Fantastic. And memorised too, astounding!!

From Psyche, with Other Poems, 3rd edition (1811)

PSYCHE; OR THE LEGEND OF LOVE (EXTRACT)


Here Cupid tempers his unerring darts,
And in the fount of bliss delights to play;
Here mingles balmy sighs and pleasing smarts,
And here the honeyed draught will oft allay1
With that black poison's all-polluting sway,
For wretched man. Hither, as Venus willed,
For Psyche's punishment he bent his way;
From either stream his amber vase he filled --
For her were meant the drops which grief alone distilled.

His quiver, sparkling bright with gems and gold,
From his fair plumed shoulder graceful hung,
And from its top in brilliant cords enrolled
Each little vase resplendently was slung;
Still as he flew, around him sportive clung
His frolic train of winged zephyrs light,
Wafting the fragrance which his tresses flung,
While odours dropped from every ringlet bright,
And from his blue eyes beamed ineffable delight.

Wrapped in a cloud unseen by mortal eye,
He sought the chamber of the royal maid --
There, lulled by careless soft security,
Of the impending mischief nought afraid,
Upon her purple couch was Psyche laid,
Her radiant eyes a downy slumber sealed;
In light transparent veil alone arrayed,
Her bosom's opening charms were half-revealed,
And scarce the lucid folds her polished limbs concealed.

A placid smile plays o'er each roseate lip --
Sweet severed lips, while thus your pearls disclose,
That slumbering thus unconscious she may sip
The cruel presage of her future woes!
Lightly, as fall the dews upon the rose,
Upon the coral gates of that sweet cell
The fatal drops he pours -- nor yet he knows,
Nor, though a god, can he presaging tell
How he himself shall mourn the ills of that sad spell!

Nor yet content, he from his quiver drew,
Sharpened with skill divine, a shining dart;
No need had he for bow, since thus too true
His hand might wound her all-exposed heart;
Yet her fair side he touched with gentlest art,
And half-relenting on her beauties gazed:
Just then awaking with a sudden start
Her opening eye in humid lustre blazed --
Unseen he still remained, enchanted and amazed.

The dart which in his hand now trembling stood,
As o'er the couch he bent with ravished eye,
Drew with its daring point celestial blood
From his smooth neck's unblemished ivory;
Heedless of this, but with a pitying sigh
(The evil done now anxious to repair),
He shed in haste the balmy drops of joy
O'er all the silky ringlets of her hair,
Then stretched his plumes divine, and breathed celestial air.

Unhappy Psyche! Soon the latent wound
The fading roses of her cheek confess;
Her eyes' bright beams, in swimming sorrows drowned,
Sparkle no more with life and happiness,
Her parent's fond exulting heart to bless;
She shuns adoring crowds, and seeks to hide
The pining sorrows which her soul oppress,
Till to her mother's tears no more denied,
The secret grief she owns, for which she lingering sighed.

A dream of mingled terror and delight
Still heavy hangs upon her troubled soul,
An angry form still swims before her sight,
And still the vengeful thunders seem to roll;
Still crushed to earth she feels the stern control
Of Venus unrelenting, unappeased.
The dream returns, she feels the fancied dole;
Once more the furies on her heart have seized,
But still she views the youth who all her sufferings eased.

Of wondrous beauty did the vision seem,
And in the freshest prime of youthful years;
Such at the close of her distressful dream
A graceful champion to her eyes appears;
Her loved deliverer from her foes and fears
She seems in grateful transport still to press,
Still his soft voice sounds in her ravished ears;
Dissolved in fondest tears of tenderness
His form she oft invokes her waking eyes to bless.

Nor was it quite a dream, for as she woke,
Ere heavenly mists concealed him from her eye,
One sudden transitory view she took
Of Love's most radiant bright divinity --
From the fair image never can she fly,
As still consumed with vain desire she pines;
While her fond parents heave the anxious sigh,
And to avert her fate seek holy shrines
The threatened ills to learn by auguries and signs.

Mary Tighe (1772--1810)

Excellent choice AM KM!