On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 11:29:20 AM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 9:05:11 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 7:01:05 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 6:24:49 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 1:38:02 AM UTC-5, Family Guy wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:55:39 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:43:20 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:32:22 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:14:09 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 4:10:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt..Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> > > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> > > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> > > > > > > > > > >> >> Something we can all agree with.
> > > > > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > > > > >> > Speak for yourself
> > > > > > > > > > >> I did.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > You may weigh enough to be four adults
> > > > > > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > > > > > > > > Tellingly, it's only a head shot.
> > > > > > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > > > > > > I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were pregnant.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > 🙂
> > > > > Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> > > > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
> > > A pox on both your houses!
> > WAD I DO WRONG!?!
> You abstained from wishing cancer on the Donkey. And while I understand your reasoning, you might have at least substituted some alternate form of unpleasant death.

"Live long and prosper," Robert.

Robert Burrows wrote:
> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 1:38:02 AM UTC-5, Family Guy wrote:
>> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:55:39 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:43:20 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things..)
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of.. I wrote the first draft quickly,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer..
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
>> > > > > > >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
>> > > > > > >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
>> > > > > > >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
>> > > > > > >> >>
>> > > > > > >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
>> > > > > > >> >> Something we can all agree with.
>> > > > > > >>
>> > > > > > >> > Speak for yourself
>> > > > > > >> I did.
>> > > > > > >
>> > > > > >
>> > > > > > > You may weigh enough to be four adults
>> > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
>
>> > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
>
>> > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
>
>> > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
>
>> > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
>
>> Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.

On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:50:12 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> Robert Burrows wrote:
> > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 1:38:02 AM UTC-5, Family Guy wrote:
> >> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:55:39 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:43:20 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> >
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things..)
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait..
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of.. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer..
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts..Poetry.Comments.."
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> >> > > > > > >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> >> > > > > > >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> >> > > > > > >> >>
> >> > > > > > >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> >> > > > > > >> >> Something we can all agree with.
> >> > > > > > >>
> >> > > > > > >> > Speak for yourself
> >> > > > > > >> I did.
> >> > > > > > >
> >> > > > > >
> >> > > > > > > You may weigh enough to be four adults
> >> > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
> >
> >> > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> >
> >> > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
> >
> >> > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> >
> >> > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
> >
> >> Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
> Agreed and seconded...!

On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:53:05 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:50:12 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > Robert Burrows wrote:
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things..)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>
> > >> > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
> > >
> > >> > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > >
> > >> > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
> > >
> > >> > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > >
> > >> > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
> > >
> > >> Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> > > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
> > Agreed and seconded...!
> Speaking of which: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Blah blah blah, Voodoo Boy, you shit eating little ape...!

On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 12:45:48 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>
>> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021

<trolling snipped>

> “Many young men die at twenty five and aren't buried until they are seventy five.”
> ― Benjamin Franklin
>
> I think that's the most unpleasant fate.

It must be, agreed.

On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 9:05:11 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 7:01:05 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 6:24:49 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 1:38:02 AM UTC-5, Family Guy wrote:
> > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:55:39 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:43:20 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef....@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:32:22 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:14:09 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 4:10:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > > > >> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >> General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now..
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew..
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> > > > > > > > > >> >>
> > > > > > > > > >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> > > > > > > > > >> >> Something we can all agree with.
> > > > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > > > >> > Speak for yourself
> > > > > > > > > >> I did.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > You may weigh enough to be four adults
> > > > > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > > > > > > > Tellingly, it's only a head shot.
> > > > > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > > > > > I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were pregnant.
> > > > >
> > > > > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
> > > > >
> > > > > 🙂
> > > > Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> > > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
> > A pox on both your houses!
> WAD I DO WRONG!?!

"Live long and prosper," Robert.

https://youtu.be/3_p-nv5BCi8

R.I.P. Kirstie Alley.

On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 8:45:14 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>
> "Live long and prosper," Robert.
> https://youtu.be/3_p-nv5BCi8
>
> R.I.P. Kirstie Alley.

Sad day, loved that actress....

On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 4:16:16 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 8:45:14 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >
> > "Live long and prosper," Robert.
> > https://youtu.be/3_p-nv5BCi8
> >
> > R.I.P. Kirstie Alley.
> Sad day, loved that actress....

She would never let someone like you get close to her.

Family Guy wrote:

> On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 4:16:16 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 8:45:14 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> >
>> > "Live long and prosper," Robert.
>> > https://youtu.be/3_p-nv5BCi8
>> >
>> > R.I.P. Kirstie Alley.
>> Sad day, loved that actress....

> She would never let someone like you get close to her.

I liked her movies, silly boy...

Zod wrote:

> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:53:05 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
>> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:50:12 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> > Robert Burrows wrote:
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things..)
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
>> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>
>> > >> > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
>> > >
>> > >> > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
>> > >
>> > >> > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
>> > >
>> > >> > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
>> > >
>> > >> > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
>> > >
>> > >> Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
>> > > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
>> > Agreed and seconded...!
>> Speaking of which: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

> Blah blah blah, Voodoo Boy, you shit eating little ape...!

On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> General-Zod wrote:
> >>
> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> >> >>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> >> >>>> >> >>
> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> >> >>>> >>
> >> >>>> >> >
> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
> >> >>>> >>
> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> >> >>>>
> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> >>
> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> >>
> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> >>
> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> >> Something we can all agree with.
>
> > Speak for yourself
> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.

Ash Wurthing wrote:

> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>
>> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> >> General-Zod wrote:
>> >>
>> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
>> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
>> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>> >> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
>> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
>> >> >>>> >> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
>> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
>> >> >>>> >>
>> >> >>>> >> >
>> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
>> >> >>>> >>
>> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
>> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
>> >> >>>>
>> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
>> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
>> >>
>> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
>> >>
>> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
>> >>
>> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
>> >> Something we can all agree with.
>>
>> > Speak for yourself
>> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.

On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 3:25:12 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> Ash Wurthing wrote:
>
> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>
> >> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> >> General-Zod wrote:
> >> >>
> >> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
> >> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> >> >> >>>> >> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> >> >> >>>> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> >
> >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
> >> >> >>>> >>
> >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments..
> >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> >> >>
> >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> >> >>
> >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> >> >>
> >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> >> >> Something we can all agree with.
> >>
> >> > Speak for yourself
> >> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
>
> > Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...
> That's debatable.

On 2022-12-10 3:17 p.m., Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>
>>> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>>> General-Zod wrote:
>>>>
>>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>>>>>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
>>>>>>>> George Dance wrote:
>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My Father's House
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This is my father's house, although
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To be so many other places.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ~~
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> George J. Dance
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cool... cool...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Troll much, Pendragon?
>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>> Constructive criticism is not trolling
>>>>>>>>>>>> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>> AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments."
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>> George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
>>>>>>>>>> Okay, fair enough.
>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>> Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
>>>>>>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
>>>>
>>>>>>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
>>>>
>>>>>> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
>>>>
>>>>> As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
>>>> Something we can all agree with.
>>
>>> Speak for yourself
>> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
>
> Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...

George J. Dance wrote:

> On 2022-12-10 3:17 p.m., Ash Wurthing wrote:
>>>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>>>>>>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
>>>>>>>>> George Dance wrote:
>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My Father's House
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This is my father's house, although
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To be so many other places.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ~~
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> George J. Dance
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cool... cool...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Troll much, Pendragon?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Constructive criticism is not trolling
>>>>>>>>>>>>> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>> AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments."
>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>> George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
>>>>>>>>>>> Okay, fair enough.
>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>> Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
>>>>>>>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
>>>>>
>>>>>>>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
>>>>>
>>>>>>> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
>>>>>
>>>>>> As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
>>>>> Something we can all agree with.
>>>
>>>> Speak for yourself
>>> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
>>
>> Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...

On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:03:58 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-12-10 3:17 p.m., Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>
> >>> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>> General-Zod wrote:
> >>>>
> >>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>>>>>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> >>>>>>>> George Dance wrote:
> >>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My Father's House
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This is my father's house, although
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To be so many other places.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ~~
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> George J. Dance
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cool... cool...
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Troll much, Pendragon?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>> Constructive criticism is not trolling
> >>>>>>>>>>>> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> >>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>> AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments."
> >>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>> George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> >>>>>>>>>> Okay, fair enough.
> >>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>> Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> >>>>>>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> >>>>
> >>>>>>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> >>>>
> >>>>>> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> >>>>
> >>>>> As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> >>>> Something we can all agree with.
> >>
> >>> Speak for yourself
> >> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
> >
> > Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...
> That's easy enough for you to say, Ashtroll. You have only the one
> reader, and that's you.

Ash Wurthing wrote:

> On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 3:25:12 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> Ash Wurthing wrote:
>> >> >> > Will Dockery wrote:
>> >> >> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>> >> >> >>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
>> >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
>> >> >> >>>> >> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
>> >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
>> >> >> >>>> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> >
>> >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
>> >> >> >>>> >>
>> >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments..
>> >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
>> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
>> >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
>> >> >>
>> >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
>> >> >>
>> >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
>> >> >>
>> >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
>> >> >> Something we can all agree with.
>> >>
>> >> > Speak for yourself
>> >> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
>>
>> > Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...
>> That's debatable.

On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:03:58 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-12-10 3:17 p.m., Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>
> >>> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>> General-Zod wrote:
> >>>>
> >>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>>>>>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> >>>>>>>> George Dance wrote:
> >>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My Father's House
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This is my father's house, although
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To be so many other places.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ~~
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> George J. Dance
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cool... cool...
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Troll much, Pendragon?
> >>>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>>> Constructive criticism is not trolling
> >>>>>>>>>>>> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> >>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>> AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments."
> >>>>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>>>> George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> >>>>>>>>>> Okay, fair enough.
> >>>>>>>>
> >>>>>>>>> Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> >>>>>>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> >>>>
> >>>>>>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> >>>>
> >>>>>> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> >>>>
> >>>>> As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> >>>> Something we can all agree with.
> >>
> >>> Speak for yourself
> >> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
> >
> > Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...
> That's easy enough for you to say, Ashtroll. You have only the one
> reader, and that's you.

On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:50:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> Ash Wurthing wrote:
> >> >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021

> > This is a proper fallen woman Country Music trope...
> > 'Fancy' ~~ Reba McEntire
> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zplc4Ienkws
> > By Gawd! Ash must attest that this song kicks ass of piss poor Country trope wannabes-- Good Gawdamn Amen!!
> I remember the earlier version of (I think) the same song:
>
> Bobbie Gentry - Fancy
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUjNbeAFal8
>
> Bobbie Gentry rocked the Country and Top 40 charts originally back in 1968 with her song of Americana mystery, "Ode To Billie Joe":
>
>
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJZ_ViDADOE
>
> HTH and HAND.

Love that old song...!

Zod wrote:

> On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:50:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> Ash Wurthing wrote:
>> >> >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
>> >> >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021

>> > This is a proper fallen woman Country Music trope...
>> > 'Fancy' ~~ Reba McEntire
>> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zplc4Ienkws
>> > By Gawd! Ash must attest that this song kicks ass of piss poor Country trope wannabes-- Good Gawdamn Amen!!
>> I remember the earlier version of (I think) the same song:
>>
>> Bobbie Gentry - Fancy
>> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUjNbeAFal8
>>
>> Bobbie Gentry rocked the Country and Top 40 charts originally back in 1968 with her song of Americana mystery, "Ode To Billie Joe":
>>
>>
>> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJZ_ViDADOE
>>
>> HTH and HAND.

> Love that old song...!

Good evening, Zod, agreed.

🙂

On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 4:55:14 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> Family Guy wrote:
>
> > On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 4:16:16 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> >> On Friday, December 9, 2022 at 8:45:14 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> >
> >> > "Live long and prosper," Robert.
> >> > https://youtu.be/3_p-nv5BCi8
> >> >
> >> > R.I.P. Kirstie Alley.
> >> Sad day, loved that actress....
>
> > She would never let someone like you get close to her.
> I liked her movies, silly boy...

Kirstie Alley was great in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, definitely my favorite movie of 1982:

https://youtu.be/Jx3iR1FLziA

On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 2:02:22 PM UTC-8, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Saturday, December 10, 2022 at 4:03:58 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > On 2022-12-10 3:17 p.m., Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 3:15:13 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > >>
> > >>> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 12:45:14 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > >>>> General-Zod wrote:
> > >>>>
> > >>>>> Will Dockery wrote:
> > >>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > >>>>>>> On 2022-12-04 3:41 p.m., Zod wrote:
> > >>>>>>>> George Dance wrote:
> > >>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My Father's House
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> This is my father's house, although
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To be so many other places.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ~~
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> George J. Dance
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> over a decade makes that much clearer.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cool... cool...
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Troll much, Pendragon?
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>> Constructive criticism is not trolling
> > >>>>>>>>>>>> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> > >>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>> AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments."
> > >>>>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>>>> George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> > >>>>>>>>>> Okay, fair enough.
> > >>>>>>>>
> > >>>>>>>>> Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> > >>>>>>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> > >>>>
> > >>>>>>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> > >>>>
> > >>>>>> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> > >>>>
> > >>>>> As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> > >>>> Something we can all agree with.
> > >>
> > >>> Speak for yourself
> > >> I did, and now I say let George Dance have the final word about the meaning of his poem.
> > >
> > > Nope. As much as you desire to control the narrative and what everyone should believe-- the final verdict of any written work is what the reader makes of it...
> > That's easy enough for you to say, Ashtroll. You have only the one
> > reader, and that's you.
> Tell you sod Zod, that the joke is on him and you...
> You prove my point about trying to control the narrative-- you tried to twist this into my opinion when I never revealed my opinion. I was stating a well know fact that the reader makes or breaks an author's work.
> It doesn't matter what the author intends if the reader doesn't see it. If it just garners misunderstanding and ridicule, then the author's intent becomes lost. No one spends time analyzing something no one bothers reading. You should know this from all the obscure, forgotten poets that you catalog.

On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 11:53:05 AM UTC-8, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 2:50:12 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > Robert Burrows wrote:
> > > On Thursday, December 8, 2022 at 1:38:02 AM UTC-5, Family Guy wrote:
> > >> On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:55:39 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > >> > On Wednesday, December 7, 2022 at 11:43:20 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef....@gmail.com wrote:
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> George Dance wrote:
> > >
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> My Father's House
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To be so many other places.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things..)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> ~~
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> George J. Dance
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of.. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> over a decade makes that much clearer..
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in..
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >> but I wanted to keep that hidden..
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> >
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> > Cool... cool...
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> It's interesting; writing the first draft (which is most of the finished
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> poem) took 15 or 20 minutes; but I've made little tweaks that improved
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> it. One I thought of tonight, when I reread it, was how one person,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> Karla I think, complained about two uses of "oh" in the last stanza,
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> which she said were just padding to fit the meter. Dennis Hammes advised
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> me to add "oh" in some earlier stanzas, which would make it "voice" - so
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> I did. I do have to agree that Dennis was right. The interjections don't
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> stick out at all; after hearing the speaker talk like that throughout
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> >> the poem, the reader can just accept them as how he talks.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> > Regardless of how your rationalize them, they come across as filler.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> >> Troll much, Pendragon?
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> > Constructive criticism is not trolling
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >> You've been trolling George Dance about this poem from the start, Pendragon.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> >
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > AAPC is an acronym that stands for "Alt.Arts.Poetry.Comments.."
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> > George posted a poem -- I have provided him with comments.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> >> Okay, fair enough.
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> > Yep but the comments should not be used to attack and troll the poet... and that is what Pen seemed to be leaning to in his (mis)reading of GD's poem....
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>>> Good point, I say we let George Dance decide, since the poem is his, and the attack was on his personal life, which shouldn't be included here on Usenet.
> > >> > > > > > >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >>> George Dance has already said that the poem was "largely based" on his personal experiences, and that "corporal punishment" was dished out regularly to the boys in his house. He has also said that his father built a House-in-the-Box. That doesn't leave much of the poem to be "imaginative fiction."
> > >> > > > > > >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> >> Again, I'll let George Dance give the final word on his poem, which he's said isn't specifically about him.
> > >> > > > > > >> >>
> > >> > > > > > >> >> > As it should be... final word goes to the author of the poem....!
> > >> > > > > > >> >> Something we can all agree with.
> > >> > > > > > >>
> > >> > > > > > >> > Speak for yourself
> > >> > > > > > >> I did.
> > >> > > > > > >
> > >> > > > > >
> > >> > > > > > > You may weigh enough to be four adults
> > >> > > > > > That's out of date, I'm back down to my old weight, my weight before I stopped smoking and drinking:
> > >
> > >> > > > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/CjcPOT6s-dP/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > >
> > >> > > > Okay, here's another one, uncropped:
> > >
> > >> > > > https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl5LoafNvZZ/?igshid=MDM4ZDc5MmU=
> > >
> > >> > Whether you can see it or not, I've lost at least 70 pounds from exercise and a better eating schedule, since you brought it up, little monkey.
> > >
> > >> Or it could just be cancer. Let's hope that it's cancer.
> > > I wouldn't wish cancer on anybody.
> > Agreed and seconded...!
> Speaking of which:
>
> Die Stink, die.
> Stop stinking up the place
> Cover your ugly face
> With sod so foul that only brambles dare
> Take root atop its filth. Your grizzled hair
> Long home to ticks and fleas
> Shall be the straw where graveworms make their bed;
> The earth repels you like some rank disease
> The sun shines brighter knowing that you're dead
> And songbird choirs echo "Die Stink, die."