Group Poetry 5

koan
Posts: 16817
Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2004 1:00 pm

Group Poetry 5

Post by koan »

A world of objects, empty things,

That clutter up my shelf

Things I bought because I thought

They'd represent my Self.
libertine
Posts: 190
Joined: Fri Dec 17, 2004 12:42 am

Group Poetry 5

Post by libertine »

A purple ribbon for my hair

a book, a bowl, a song

Things I wanted yesterday

do not stay mine for long.
koan
Posts: 16817
Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2004 1:00 pm

Group Poetry 5

Post by koan »

A world of objects, empty things,

That clutter up my shelf

Things I bought because I thought

They'd represent my Self.

A purple ribbon for my hair

a book, a bowl, a song

Things I wanted yesterday

do not stay mine for long.

Nothing is for me to keep

It's only mine to borrow

If only I could stop the want

I'd never feel the sorrow
polycarp
Posts: 618
Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 9:00 am

Group Poetry 5

Post by polycarp »

A world of objects, empty things,

That clutter up my shelf

Things I bought because I thought

They'd represent my Self.

A purple ribbon for my hair

a book, a bowl, a song

Things I wanted yesterday

do not stay mine for long.

Nothing is for me to keep

It's only mine to borrow

If only I could stop the want

I'd never feel the sorrow

How wrong I was to listen to the song

About things which grow like weed

Which reveals less the subject that is sung

From such chains I need be freed
A formula for tact: "Be brief politely, be aggressive smilingly, be emphatic pleasantly, be positive diplomatically, be right graciously".
koan
Posts: 16817
Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2004 1:00 pm

Group Poetry 5

Post by koan »

A world of objects, empty things,

That clutter up my shelf

Things I bought because I thought

They'd represent my Self.

A purple ribbon for my hair

a book, a bowl, a song

Things I wanted yesterday

do not stay mine for long.

Nothing is for me to keep

It's only mine to borrow

If only I could stop the want

I'd never feel the sorrow

How wrong I was to listen to the song

About things which grow like weed

Which reveals less the subject that is sung

From such chains I need be freed

For like a song that has no end

My journey will go on

I cannot carry needless things

My back is not that strong.

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