On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 10:02:58 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:58:29 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:51:07 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:42:37 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:40:43 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > > > that.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > > Like I said, George doesn't want to turn the poem "into a different poem".
> > > > >
> > > > > HTH and HAND.
> > > > Obviously not.
> > > Agreed.
> > Well, there you go.
> Great, have a nice day, Corey.
>
> 🙂

Go team.

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 10:05:03 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 10:02:58 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:58:29 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:51:07 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:42:37 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 9:40:43 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > > > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > > > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > > > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > > > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > > > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > > > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > > > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > > > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > > > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > > > > that.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > > > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > > > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > > > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > > > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > > > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > > > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > > > Like I said, George doesn't want to turn the poem "into a different poem".
> > > > > >
> > > > > > HTH and HAND.
> > > > > Obviously not.
> > > > Agreed.
> > > Well, there you go.
> > Great, have a nice day, Corey.
> >
>
> Go team.

That, too.

🙂

On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> >
> > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> >
>
> Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> that.
>
> Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> were titled "Our Father's House".
>
> Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
>
> > Lose the parentheses.
>
> I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.

Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > >
> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > >
> >
> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > that.
> >
> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> >
> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> >
> > > Lose the parentheses.
> >
> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....

Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live underneath a piece of discarded tarp.

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
>> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
>> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
>> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
>> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
>> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
>> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
>> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
>> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
>> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
>> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
>> > >
>> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
>> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
>> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
>> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
>> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
>> > >
>> >
>> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
>> > that.
>> >
>> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
>> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
>> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
>> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
>> > were titled "Our Father's House".
>> >
>> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
>> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
>> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
>> >
>> > > Lose the parentheses.
>> >
>> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
>> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....

> Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live

Key word being "chooses".

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:55:26 PM UTC-5, michaelmalef...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > >
> > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > >
> > >
> > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > that.
> > >
> > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > >
> > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > >
> > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > >
> > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....
> Words of wisdom

I know a bit, yes, thanks....

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > >
> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > >
> >
> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > that.
> >
> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> >
> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> >
> > > Lose the parentheses.
> >
> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....

That's the basic understanding, ye.

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 4:37:24 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > >
> > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > >
> > >
> > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > that.
> > >
> > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > >
> > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > >
> > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > >
> > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> That's the basic understanding, yes.

Typo corrected ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Okay, I madea typo, and NancyGene is thrilled.

HTH and HAND.

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 5:05:27 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 4:37:24 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > >
> > > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > >
> > > >
> > > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > that.
> > > >
> > > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > >
> > > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > >
> > > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > >
> > > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > That's the basic understanding, yes.
>
> Typo corrected ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>
> Okay, I madea typo, and NancyGene is thrilled.

Get correcting again!

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 5:10:57 PM UTC-5, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 5:05:27 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 4:37:24 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > > On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > > that.
> > > > >
> > > > > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > >
> > > > > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > >
> > > > > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.....
> > > That's the basic understanding, yes.
> >
> > Typo corrected ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
> >
> > Okay, I made a typo, and NancyGene is thrilled.
> Get correcting again!

When needed, I will.

On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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

Second read, quite excellent...

On Tuesday, 29 November 2022 at 19:38:58 UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> Second read, quite excellent...

I guess to a convicted sexual deviant, it would be a good read….

On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> >> > >
> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> >> > >
> >> >
> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> >> > that.
> >> >
> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> >> >
> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> >> >
> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> >> >
> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
>
> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> Key word being "chooses".

Correct. The key word is "chooses" -- which is why I'd made of point of including it.

One cannot fault the wisdom of a man who has become homeless through no fault of his own. Bad things happen to wise men as well as to fools.

One can, however, fault the wisdom of a man who *chooses* to live the life of a rodent.

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>
>> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
>> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
>> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
>> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
>> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
>> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
>> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
>> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
>> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
>> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
>> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
>> >> > >
>> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
>> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
>> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
>> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
>> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
>> >> > >
>> >> >
>> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
>> >> > that.
>> >> >
>> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
>> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
>> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
>> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
>> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
>> >> >
>> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
>> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
>> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
>> >> >
>> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
>> >> >
>> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
>> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented.......
>>
>> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
>> Key word being "chooses".

> Correct. The key word is "chooses"

And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.

🙂

ME wrote:

> On Tuesday, 29 November 2022 at 19:38:58 UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
>> Second read, quite excellent...

> I guess to a convicted sexual deviant, it would be a good read….

You seem confused again, ME.

🙂

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 2:10:27 AM UTC, ME wrote:
> On Tuesday, 29 November 2022 at 19:38:58 UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > Second read, quite excellent...
> I guess to a convicted sexual deviant, it would be a good read….

Good one, ME! We don't have to guess which stanza was Mr. Zod's favorite. He picked out the words "boys," "pee," "bottoms down," and "belt" and was in deviant heaven. He could also relate very well to "filthy."

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 7:29:27 AM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 2:10:27 AM UTC, ME wrote:
> > On Tuesday, 29 November 2022 at 19:38:58 UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > Second read, quite excellent...
> > I guess to a convicted sexual deviant, it would be a good read…..
> Good one, ME! We don't have to guess which stanza was Mr. Zod's favorite. He picked out the words "boys," "pee," "bottoms down," and "belt" and was in deviant heaven. He could also relate very well to "filthy."

Why do you lie and misrepresent so much, NancyGene?

Just curious.

🙂

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>
> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >>
> >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> >> >> > >
> >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> >> >> > >
> >> >> >
> >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> >> >> > that.
> >> >> >
> >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> >> >> >
> >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> >> >> >
> >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> >> >> >
> >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> >>
> >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> >> Key word being "chooses".
>
> > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
>
> 🙂

Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?

On Wednesday, 30 November 2022 at 07:29:27 UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 2:10:27 AM UTC, ME wrote:
> > On Tuesday, 29 November 2022 at 19:38:58 UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > Second read, quite excellent...
> > I guess to a convicted sexual deviant, it would be a good read…..
> Good one, ME! We don't have to guess which stanza was Mr. Zod's favorite. He picked out the words "boys," "pee," "bottoms down," and "belt" and was in deviant heaven. He could also relate very well to "filthy."

I’m sure that’s why dance and zod are such good buds; he reminds dance of his father.

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> >
> > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > >>
> > >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca 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
> > >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > >> >> > >
> > >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > >> >> > >
> > >> >> >
> > >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > >> >> > that.
> > >> >> >
> > >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > >> >> >
> > >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > >> >> >
> > >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> > >> >> >
> > >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > >>
> > >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> > >> Key word being "chooses".
> >
> > > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> > And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
> >
>
> Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?

Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:10:26 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > >
> > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > >>
> > > >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca 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
> > > >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > >> >> > >
> > > >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > >> >> > >
> > > >> >> >
> > > >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > >> >> > that.
> > > >> >> >
> > > >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > >> >> >
> > > >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > >> >> >
> > > >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > >> >> >
> > > >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > > >>
> > > >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> > > >> Key word being "chooses".
> > >
> > > > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> > > And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
> > >
> >
> > Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?
> Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.

Discovering that his most well known book spawned acolytes like you and Zod is the main reason why Jack Kerouac drank himself to death.

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:25:12 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:10:26 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > >>
> > > > >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > > >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > >> >> > >
> > > > >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > >> >> > >
> > > > >> >> >
> > > > >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > >> >> > that.
> > > > >> >> >
> > > > >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > >> >> >
> > > > >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > >> >> >
> > > > >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > >> >> >
> > > > >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > > > >>
> > > > >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> > > > >> Key word being "chooses".
> > > >
> > > > > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> > > > And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
> > > >
> > >
> > > Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?
> > Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.
> Discovering that his most well known book spawned acolytes like you and Zod is the main reason why Jack Kerouac drank himself to death.

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:30:05 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:25:12 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:10:26 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > >>
> > > > > >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > > > >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > > >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > > >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > > >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > > >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > > >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > > >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > > >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > > >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > > >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > > >> >> > >
> > > > > >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > > >> >> > >
> > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > > >> >> > that.
> > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > > >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
> > > > > >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > > >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > > >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > > >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > > >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > > >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > > > > >>
> > > > > >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> > > > > >> Key word being "chooses".
> > > > >
> > > > > > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> > > > > And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
> > > > >
> > > >
> > > > Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?
> > > Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.
> > Discovering that his most well known book spawned acolytes like you and Zod is the main reason why Jack Kerouac drank himself to death.
> Not really.
>
> Jack Kerouac was a hard drinker long before he became famous.
>
> Look it up.

On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 9:08:25 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:30:05 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:25:12 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:10:26 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail..com wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > >> Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > >>
> > > > > > >> > On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > > > > >> >> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george....@yahoo.ca wrote:
> > > > > > >> >> > On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > >> >> > > On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > >> >> > >> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
> > > > > > >> >> > >> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
> > > > > > >> >> > >> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
> > > > > > >> >> > >> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
> > > > > > >> >> > >> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
> > > > > > >> >> > >> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
> > > > > > >> >> > >> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
> > > > > > >> >> > >> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
> > > > > > >> >> > >> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
> > > > > > >> >> > >
> > > > > > >> >> > > Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
> > > > > > >> >> > > “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
> > > > > > >> >> > > from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
> > > > > > >> >> > > and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
> > > > > > >> >> > > subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
> > > > > > >> >> > >
> > > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > > >> >> > Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
> > > > > > >> >> > that.
> > > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > > >> >> > Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
> > > > > > >> >> > thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned.. If someone
> > > > > > >> >> > thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
> > > > > > >> >> > titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
> > > > > > >> >> > were titled "Our Father's House".
> > > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > > >> >> > Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
> > > > > > >> >> > was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
> > > > > > >> >> > interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
> > > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > > >> >> > > Lose the parentheses.
> > > > > > >> >> >
> > > > > > >> >> > I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
> > > > > > >> >> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
> > > > > > >>
> > > > > > >> > Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
> > > > > > >> Key word being "chooses".
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Correct. The key word is "chooses"
> > > > > > And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
> > > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?
> > > > Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.
> > > Discovering that his most well known book spawned acolytes like you and Zod is the main reason why Jack Kerouac drank himself to death.
> > Not really.
> >
> > Jack Kerouac was a hard drinker long before he became famous.
> >
> > Look it up.
> I don't have to look it up, Will.
> My best friend's parents bought Kerouac's Northport house from Kerouac himself and he's a Kerouac scholar. He met Kerouac, has an unpublished Kerouac manuscript that he found in the house. He and I have spent many hours discussing Kerouac's life and work. Kerouac drank himself to death because of people like you.
>

On 2022-11-30 8:30 a.m., Will Dockery wrote:
> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:25:12 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:10:26 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 8:07:34 AM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>>>> On Wednesday, November 30, 2022 at 12:09:25 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>>> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 11:05:30 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>>>> Michael Pendragon wrote:
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>> On Tuesday, November 29, 2022 at 3:28:27 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
>>>>>>>>> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 10:05:34 AM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>>>>>>>>>> On 2022-11-27 7:09 a.m., Spam-I-Am wrote:
>>>>>>>>>>> On Sunday, November 27, 2022 at 6:39:31 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
>>>>>>>>>>>> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:49:07 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca 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
>>>>>>>>>>>> Okay, so the poem tells a story of remembered abuse.
>>>>>>>>>>>> The extent to which the story in the poem reflects the
>>>>>>>>>>>> true story of your life and memory is fundamentally
>>>>>>>>>>>> irrelevant to the reader except to the extent that your
>>>>>>>>>>>> life experience informs your ability to write emotionally
>>>>>>>>>>>> convincing stories that are of interest to other people.
>>>>>>>>>>>> When you say “My” father’s house, “By” George J. Dance,
>>>>>>>>>>>> people are going to think you’re talking about yourself.
>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>> Therefore, “my” recommendation is to change the title of “your” poem from
>>>>>>>>>>> “My Father’s House” to “Our Father’s House”, and all of the relevant pronouns
>>>>>>>>>>> from singular to plural possessive. “Our” Father’s House allows “you” to represent
>>>>>>>>>>> and speak for “your” kin, those who identify with the speaker, and also provides a
>>>>>>>>>>> subtle religious connotation, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”, that “My” does not.
>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>> Thanks for giving it so much thought and effort. I have to acknowledge
>>>>>>>>>> that.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>> Pluralizing all the pronouns would change the poem considerably, but one
>>>>>>>>>> thing it wouldn't change is the confusion you mentioned. If someone
>>>>>>>>>> thought this was a poem about my own father and childhood because it was
>>>>>>>>>> titled "My Father's House," they'd be just as likely to think that if it
>>>>>>>>>> were titled "Our Father's House".
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>> Except, of course, for that religious connotation; some might think it
>>>>>>>>>> was a poem about God. But it's not a poem about God, and that's an
>>>>>>>>>> interpretation I wouldn't want to encourage.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>> Lose the parentheses.
>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>> I like them. They're both interruptions in the speaker's thought process.
>>>>>>>>> Exactly, you are the best judge of how your poem should be presented......
>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>> Words of wisdom from a man who chooses to live
>>>>>>> Key word being "chooses".
>>>>>
>>>>>> Correct. The key word is "chooses"
>>>>> And, as we all know, Zod chose the path of the Dharma Bum.
>>>>>
>>>>
>>>> Do you really believe that a person who was truly following what you call "the "path of the Dharma Bum" would send a minute of their time and energy in a place like aapc?
>>> Jack Kerouac, maybe, probably not Gary Snyder.
>> Discovering that his most well known book spawned acolytes like you and Zod is the main reason why Jack Kerouac drank himself to death.
>
> Not really.
>
> Jack Kerouac was a hard drinker long before he became famous.
>
> Look it up.

Yes he was; ut his drinking got more "extreme" afterward.