On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 6:27:58 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> MY FATHER'S HOUSE
> AI Enhanced.
>
> In my father's house, shadows cast a gloom,
> Where nights turned to horrors in every bedroom.
> Before slumber's call, a dread would arise,
> As father's anger rained down from the skies.
>
> Pajama pants pulled down, vulnerability exposed,
> Awaiting a whipping, with leather belt imposed.
> But let not blame rest upon dear father's hand,
> For the fault lies within me, a boy deemed so grand.
>
> Little boys, you see, are creatures most unclean,
> Mischievous spirits unseen and yet not unseen.
> Their missteps and follies with every breath,
> Inviting punishments, a dance with their own death.
>
> Maybe it was my mischief that fueled his rage,
> Or the wayward paths I took at such tender age.
> In father's eyes, discipline is the key,
> To cleanse the filth that [was] little boys like me.

Once again, quite excellent, Michael. We ponder, as prompted by the poem, if all boys are filth? Is this a universal truth that should be emphasized in poetry? Should little boys be cleansed (or are they cleaned) by a beating?

No, it was never The Father's fault--it was always Little Boy George. Even if LBG didn't do anything, it was still his fault.

We like "as father's anger rained down from the skies" and "a dance with their own death." Double meaning in the "dance" word.

On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 6:48:40 PM UTC-5, George J. Dance wrote:
> On 2022-11-26 4:02 p.m., 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
> >
> > Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>
> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>
> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in.
> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> but I wanted to keep that hidden.

Again, cool, G.D.

Keeping this thread on track as the trolls seem to have targeted it again..!

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 8:10:07 PM UTC, NancyGene wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 6:27:58 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > MY FATHER'S HOUSE
> > AI Enhanced.
> >
> > In my father's house, shadows cast a gloom,
> > Where nights turned to horrors in every bedroom.
> > Before slumber's call, a dread would arise,
> > As father's anger rained down from the skies.
> >
> > Pajama pants pulled down, vulnerability exposed,
> > Awaiting a whipping, with leather belt imposed.
> > But let not blame rest upon dear father's hand,
> > For the fault lies within me, a boy deemed so grand.
> >
> > Little boys, you see, are creatures most unclean,
> > Mischievous spirits unseen and yet not unseen.
> > Their missteps and follies with every breath,
> > Inviting punishments, a dance with their own death.
> >
> > Maybe it was my mischief that fueled his rage,
> > Or the wayward paths I took at such tender age.
> > In father's eyes, discipline is the key,
> > To cleanse the filth that [was] little boys like me.
> Once again, quite excellent, Michael. We ponder, as prompted by the poem, if all boys are filth? Is this a universal truth that should be emphasized in poetry? Should little boys be cleansed (or are they cleaned) by a beating?
>
> No, it was never The Father's fault--it was always Little Boy George. Even if LBG didn't do anything, it was still his fault.
>
> We like "as father's anger rained down from the skies" and "a dance with their own death." Double meaning in the "dance" word.
***

On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> General-Zod wrote:
>
> > George J. Dance wrote:
> >>
> >> My Father's House
>
> >> This is my father's house, although
> >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >> They said it would be quite all right
> >> To take a drive to see it now.
>
> >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >> I helped, though I was only six.
>
> >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>
> >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >> To be so many other places.
> >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>
> >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >> Where I would work the summers through,
> >> While watching my friends run and play
> >> Mysterious games I never knew.
>
> >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>
> >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >> To read or play alone, and then
>
> >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>
> >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >> Its flames would light up all the air.
>
> >> ~~
> >> George J. Dance
> >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>
> > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> Agreed and seconded.
>
> ;)

Cool...!

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 8:10:07 PM UTC, NancyGene wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 6:27:58 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > MY FATHER'S HOUSE
> > AI Enhanced.
> >
> > In my father's house, shadows cast a gloom,
> > Where nights turned to horrors in every bedroom.
> > Before slumber's call, a dread would arise,
> > As father's anger rained down from the skies.
> >
> > Pajama pants pulled down, vulnerability exposed,
> > Awaiting a whipping, with leather belt imposed.
> > But let not blame rest upon dear father's hand,
> > For the fault lies within me, a boy deemed so grand.
> >
> > Little boys, you see, are creatures most unclean,
> > Mischievous spirits unseen and yet not unseen.
> > Their missteps and follies with every breath,
> > Inviting punishments, a dance with their own death.
> >
> > Maybe it was my mischief that fueled his rage,
> > Or the wayward paths I took at such tender age.
> > In father's eyes, discipline is the key,
> > To cleanse the filth that [was] little boys like me.
> Once again, quite excellent, Michael. We ponder, as prompted by the poem, if all boys are filth? Is this a universal truth that should be emphasized in poetry? Should little boys be cleansed (or are they cleaned) by a beating?
>
> No, it was never The Father's fault--it was always Little Boy George. Even if LBG didn't do anything, it was still his fault.
>
> We like "as father's anger rained down from the skies" and "a dance with their own death." Double meaning in the "dance" word.
George Dance should feature this poem on his blaaarrrgggg.

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 4:53:05 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 6:48:40 PM UTC-5, George J. Dance wrote:
> > On 2022-11-26 4:02 p.m., 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
> > >
> > > Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> > Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> > but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
> >
> > The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> > one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> > complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> > speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> > is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> > over a decade makes that much clearer.
> >
> > As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> > plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> > house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in.
> > It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> > was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> > but I wanted to keep that hidden.
> Again, cool, G.D.
>
> Keeping this thread on track as the trolls seem to have targeted it again...!

Agreed.

🙂

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 10:07:05 PM UTC, NancyGene wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 8:10:07 PM UTC, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 6:27:58 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > MY FATHER'S HOUSE
> > > AI Enhanced.
> > >
> > > In my father's house, shadows cast a gloom,
> > > Where nights turned to horrors in every bedroom.
> > > Before slumber's call, a dread would arise,
> > > As father's anger rained down from the skies.
> > >
> > > Pajama pants pulled down, vulnerability exposed,
> > > Awaiting a whipping, with leather belt imposed.
> > > But let not blame rest upon dear father's hand,
> > > For the fault lies within me, a boy deemed so grand.
> > >
> > > Little boys, you see, are creatures most unclean,
> > > Mischievous spirits unseen and yet not unseen.
> > > Their missteps and follies with every breath,
> > > Inviting punishments, a dance with their own death.
> > >
> > > Maybe it was my mischief that fueled his rage,
> > > Or the wayward paths I took at such tender age.
> > > In father's eyes, discipline is the key,
> > > To cleanse the filth that [was] little boys like me.
> > Once again, quite excellent, Michael. We ponder, as prompted by the poem, if all boys are filth? Is this a universal truth that should be emphasized in poetry? Should little boys be cleansed (or are they cleaned) by a beating?
> >
> > No, it was never The Father's fault--it was always Little Boy George. Even if LBG didn't do anything, it was still his fault.
> >
> > We like "as father's anger rained down from the skies" and "a dance with their own death." Double meaning in the "dance" word.
> George Dance should feature this poem on his blaaarrrgggg.
Did The Father have a special connection to moons?

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > General-Zod wrote:
> >
> > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > >>
> > >> My Father's House
> >
> > >> This is my father's house, although
> > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> >
> > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> >
> > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >
> > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > >> To be so many other places.
> > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >
> > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >
> > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >
> > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > >> To read or play alone, and then
> >
> > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >
> > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >
> > >> ~~
> > >> George J. Dance
> > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >
> > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > Agreed and seconded.
> >
> > ;)
>
>
> Cool...!

Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.

HTH and HAND.

On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > General-Zod wrote:
> > >
> > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > >>
> > > >> My Father's House
> > >
> > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > >
> > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > >
> > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > >
> > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > >
> > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > >
> > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > >
> > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > >
> > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > >
> > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > >
> > > >> ~~
> > > >> George J. Dance
> > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > >
> > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > Agreed and seconded.
> > >
> > > ;)
> >
> >
> > Cool...!
> Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
>
> HTH and HAND.

It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.

On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >>
> > > > >> My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > >
> > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > >> ~~
> > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > >
> > > > ;)
> > >
> > >
> > > Cool...!
> > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> >
> > HTH and HAND.
> It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.

Yes, typical Pendragon hypocrisy.

On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >>
> > > > >> My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > >
> > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > >> ~~
> > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > >
> > > > ;)
> > >
> > >
> > > Cool...!
> > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> >
> > HTH and HAND.
> It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
>

Stop lying, George.

That is *not* one of my poems.

I fed the content of *your* poem to an AI poetry generator and provided you with an AI enhanced revision.

The AI generated version is pretty impressive -- both in its example here, and in those posted in other threads. It generates a complete, and often complex, narrative.

Its meter isn't perfect (to put it mildly), and it could stand a good deal of polish, but I think that its version works better than yours insofar as it more successfully recreates an atmosphere of abuse.

I should have thought that you'd be interested in seeing an AI generated approach to your poem, but you're obviously too thin-skinned to appreciate it..

On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >>
> > > > >> My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > >
> > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > >> ~~
> > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > >
> > > > ;)
> > >
> > >
> > > Cool...!
> > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> >
> > HTH and HAND.
> It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.

And as expected, Pendragon tries to lie his way out of it.

And so it goes.

On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > George J. Dance wrote:
>
> > > > >> My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > >
> > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > >> ~~
> > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > >
> > > > ;)
> > >
> > >
> > > Cool...!
> > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> >
> > HTH and HAND.
> It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.

Indeed, it is some high quality poetry and good to have it back on the list for our newer readers...

On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >>
> > > > >> My Father's House
> > > >
> > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > >
> > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > >
> > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > >
> > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > >
> > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > >
> > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > >
> > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > >
> > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > >
> > > > >> ~~
> > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > >
> > > > ;)
> > >
> > >
> > > Cool...!
> > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> >
> > HTH and HAND.
> It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.

Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.

What a surprise.

On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > >>
> > > > > >> My Father's House
> > > > >
> > > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > >
> > > > > >> ~~
> > > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > > >
> > > > > ;)
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Cool...!
> > > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> > >
> > > HTH and HAND.
> > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
>
> What a surprise.

No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.

OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.

On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > >>
> > > > > > >> My Father's House
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > >> ~~
> > > > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > ;)
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > Cool...!
> > > > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> > > >
> > > > HTH and HAND.
> > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> >
> > What a surprise.
> No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
>
> OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.

You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?

On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > >> My Father's House
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> ~~
> > > > > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > ;)
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Cool...!
> > > > > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> > > > >
> > > > > HTH and HAND.
> > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > >
> > > What a surprise.
> > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> >
> > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?

Yes, Donkey, "OB."

Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."

On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W..Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > >>
> > > > > > > > >> My Father's House
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > >> The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > >> They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > >> To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > >> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > >> Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > >> I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > >> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > >> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > >> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > >> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > >> To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > >> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > >> Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > >> While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > >> Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > >> The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > >> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > >> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > >> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > >> After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > >> To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > >> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > >> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > >> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > >> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > >> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > >> Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> ~~
> > > > > > > > >> George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > >> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Quite an excellent poem, G.D.
> > > > > > > > Agreed and seconded.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > ;)
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Cool...!
> > > > > > Good evening Zod, good job on helping keep the record straight.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > HTH and HAND.
> > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > > >
> > > > What a surprise.
> > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> > >
> > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
> Yes, Donkey, "OB."

You're welcome.

🙂

> Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."

On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W..Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > > >
> > > > What a surprise.
> > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> > >
> > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
> Yes, Donkey, "OB."
>
> Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."

Original POST, Peabrain. "OP" means the original post in a thread. It's amazing that in your 10 years on a newsgroups you've never managed to learn that.

On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 8:22:52 PM UTC-4, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > > > >
> > > > > What a surprise.
> > > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> > > >
> > > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> > > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
> > Yes, Donkey, "OB."
> >
> > Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."
> Original POST, Peabrain. "OP" means the original post in a thread. It's amazing that in your 10 years on a newsgroups you've never managed to learn that.

I'm sorry, George, but I don't speak jargon -- and fail to see that as being to my detriment.

On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 8:22:52 PM UTC-4, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:48:45 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 11:18:52 AM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
> > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:26:30 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 5:08:48 PM UTC-4, Faraway Star wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 8:37:37 PM UTC-5, W.Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > General-Zod wrote:
> > > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > > > >
> > > > > What a surprise.
> > > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> > > >
> > > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> > > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
> > Yes, Donkey, "OB."
> >
> > Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."
> Original POST, Peabrain. "OP" means the original post in a thread. It's amazing that in your 10 years on a newsgroups you've never managed to learn that.

I noticed Pendragon seemed little confused.

On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 8:22:52 PM UTC-4, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>
> > > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
> > > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
> > > > >
> > > > > What a surprise.
> > > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
> > > >
> > > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
> > > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
> > Yes, Donkey, "OB."
> >
> > Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."
> Original POST, Peabrain. "OP" means the original post in a thread. It's amazing that in your 10 years on a newsgroups you've never managed to learn that.

Penhead is rather slow on the uptake...

Faraway Star wrote:

> On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 8:22:52 PM UTC-4, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:28:23 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
>> > On Friday, September 1, 2023 at 12:13:17 PM UTC-4, Will Dockery wrote:
>> > > > > On Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 8:58:56 AM UTC-4, George Dance wrote:
>>
>> > > > > > It's nice to see the original poem back in the thread. I've noticed our resident monkey trying to hijack the thread with one of his own "poems" again, in violation of his own bogus Guidelines. The OP isn't a comfortable poem, but it's a much better read.
>> > > > > Pendragon violated his own bogus guidelines.
>> > > > >
>> > > > > What a surprise.
>> > > > No, Donkey. OP poems are allowed -- even encouraged.
>> > > >
>> > > > OP poems by an AI generator still fall under that category.
>> > > You mean "OB poems," Pendragon?
>> > Yes, Donkey, "OB."
>> >
>> > Dunce threw me off with his use of "OP" for "original poem."
>> Original POST, Peabrain. "OP" means the original post in a thread. It's amazing that in your 10 years on a newsgroups you've never managed to learn that.

> Penhead is rather slow on the uptake...

If at all.

George J. Dance wrote:

> On 2024-1-26 4:02 p.m., Zod wrote:
>> 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
>>
>> Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!

> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.

> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> over a decade makes that much clearer.

> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in.
> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> but I wanted to keep that hidden.

Yo... kool...

On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 6:48:40 PM UTC-5, George J. Dance wrote:
> On 2022-11-26 4:02 p.m., 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
> >
> > Read twice, outstanding work of poetry....!
> Thanks, Zod. It's a poem I'm proud of. I wrote the first draft quickly,
> but I spent several years tweaking it before it went into a book.
>
> The big revision here is the rewrite to L2. In the original discussion,
> one of the people trying to cut it to shreds was a poet, and amongst her
> complaints she had a criticism I thought valid: it's not clear that the
> speaker is the child of the poem now grown up. And I think realizing tht
> is essential to appreciating the thing. Having the father been dead for
> over a decade makes that much clearer.
>
> As well, it makes certain things more ambiguous, and I think that's a
> plus as well. By taking out the old L2, it's no longer clear whether the
> house this guy is walking around in is abandoned, or still lived in.
> It's also unclear who "they" are; my hidden idea was that the speaker
> was under psychiatric care, ant "they" were the ones looking after him,
> but I wanted to keep that hidden.

Well put.