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  1. TopTop #2791
    Roland Jacopetti's Avatar
    Roland Jacopetti
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Sherman Alexie for Poet Laureate of America!

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    The Powwow at the End of the World
    ...
    - Sherman Alexie
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  3. TopTop #2792

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Roland Jacopetti: View Post
    Sherman Alexie for Poet Laureate of America!
    I second that!
    Janet
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  5. TopTop #2793
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    The Healing Time

    Finally on my way to yes
    I bumped into
    all the places
    where I said no
    to my life
    all the untended wounds
    the red and purple scars
    those hieroglyphs of pain
    carved into my skin, my bones
    those coded messages
    that send me down
    the wrong street
    again and again
    where I find them
    the old wounds
    the old misdirections
    and I lift them
    one by one
    close to my heart
    and I say holy
    holy


    - Pesha Gertler
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  7. TopTop #2794
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Tending the Sedge


    The land was first the land’s. Then, the Pomo,
    the Miwok and the Wappo lived on it.
    The tribelets of the Konohomtara,
    the Kataictemi and the Biakomtara
    settled on different sections of the wide
    Laguna for over 10,000 years.
    Little changed except the roots and stalks of
    the coarse sedge plants that grew half-submerged in
    the water. The Pomo basket weavers
    cultivated the sedge fields, passed prayers
    for straight stalks and supple roots from mouth to
    ear to mouth. Prayed and sang, untangled and threaded.
    The basket is in the roots, that’s where it begins.


    - Iris Jamahl Dunkle
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  9. TopTop #2795
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Listening To The Republicans
    Winter 2016


    I don’t want
    to be inspired


    I don’t need
    to be uplifted


    I want
    to descend


    to walk down
    to where their pain is,
    to where fear,
    like a
    week-old
    rotting corpse,
    has absolutely
    nothing good to say


    I want to listen
    to the stench


    to the terror


    so that when I return
    I can keep my heart
    open,


    so that I
    can remember
    where
    and what
    they were
    taught.

    - Trout Black
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  11. TopTop #2796
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Wild Common Prayer


    I dreamt you were whole again, radiant, calm: your hair still golden but
    tinged with red — a halo of rosy, burnished light — and your hands
    untrembling in your lap. I was surprised to find you home. But I’ve been here
    all along
    , you said. Or might have said. You didn’t speak. You’d only aged
    as women age whose bodies ease them toward death; grown softer, more
    yourself. And I was the one who stood amazed, there in the kitchen where
    we’d spent so many quiet mornings, friend. Wanting to touch you, wanting
    to simply not forsake you now. Outside, the pasture lay down calmly; each
    blade shimmered in the wind. This is eternity, I thought, and felt you breaking
    into all your lovely fragments as I woke.


    - Cecilia Woloch
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  12. TopTop #2797
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Of the Color Blue

    First in the stark relief
    of black and white,
    the day emerges through the cottonwoods.
    Know the likelihood of that blue
    that’s been called headstrong.
    It’s the same one
    that can represent the distance,
    that can awaken the optimist within,
    speaking in one of its assorted voices.
    Listen carefully while assembling one’s self,
    while choosing which mask to put on,
    or to leave off.
    Today’s reality show will attempt
    to make you the star,
    competing agendas will clamor
    for attention,
    for center stage.
    Hold tight to your heart center,
    to your own firm resolve.
    It is your circus,
    and your choice of participating simians.


    - Pamela Williams
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  13. TopTop #2798
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Poem In Which My Legs Are Accepted

    Legs!
    How we have suffered each other,
    never meeting the standard of magazines
    or official measurements.

    I have hung you from trapezes,
    sat you on wooden rollers,
    pulled and pushed you
    with the anxiety of taffy,
    and still you are yourselves!

    Most obvious imperfection, blight on my fantasy life,
    strong,
    plump,
    never to be skinny
    or even hinting of the svelte beauties in history books
    or Sears catalogues.
    Here you are -- solid, fleshy and
    white as when I first noticed you, sitting on the toilet,
    spread softly over the wooden seat,
    having been with me only twelve years,
    yet
    as obvious as the legs of my thirty-year-old gym teacher.

    Legs!
    O that was the year we did acrobatics in the annual gym show.
    How you split for me!
    One-handed cartwheels
    from this end of the gymnasium to the other,
    ending in double splits,
    legs you flashed in blue rayon slacks my mother bought
    for the occasion
    and tho you were confidently swinging along,
    the rest of me blushed at the sound of clapping.

    Legs!
    How I have worried about you, not able to hide you,
    embarrassed at beaches, in highschool
    when the cheerleaders' slim brown legs
    spread all over
    the sand
    with the perfection
    of bamboo.
    I hated you, and still you have never given out on me.

    With you
    I have risen to the top of blue waves,
    with you
    I have carried food home as a loving gift
    when my arms began un-
    jelling like madrilenne.

    Legs, you are a pillow,
    white and plentiful with feathers for his wild head.
    You are the endless scenery
    behind the tense sinewy elegance of his two dark legs.
    You welcome him joyfully
    and dance.
    And you will be the locks in a new canal between continents.
    The ship of life will push out of you
    and rejoice
    in the whiteness,
    in the first floating and rising of water.

    - Kathleen Fraser
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  15. TopTop #2799
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Marrying God


    Dark of the moon making
    Ritual my own, stone altar
    My fire, low and quieted
    The incessant tide insists
    I hear its rhythmic chant
    Above the scratching sound
    My own voice attempts
    To remember words that
    Call forth a Power, protection.
    I am asking for answers
    Requesting questions.
    Ritual to heal the hearts
    I have broken—my own,
    My daughter's, her fathers.
    Is it right this joy surrounding
    The molten center of grief?
    As I sing, resurrecting hymns
    Of a childhood of certainty
    A God of consequence and presence,
    Another presence presents,
    A shadow rushes past, so close
    I feel its wake. This obscure shade
    Mine? His rage? A stranger
    Come to make the beach
    A bed for the night?
    My fire doused, I climb the cliff,
    Feel foolish, but certain
    Rituals of my own always
    Leave me chagrined, find me
    Later rewarded. Weeks later
    Full sun, I return, armed
    With incense and photos—my
    Father, his father, hoping to find
    A balm, a cure for this crack
    In my soul's center, wound inflicted
    By life that makes men
    Other, condemns us to struggle.
    Moonless night, firelight
    Now passed. Atop ashes a ring
    Wedding ring. Mine now
    I wed an uncertain god,
    One who promises nothing
    Gives all. With this ring
    Relic of another's broken
    Heart, released to the ocean
    Returned to the shore,
    I thee wed.


    - Rebecca del Rio
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  16. TopTop #2800
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Spiritual Chickens


    A man eats a chicken every day for lunch, and each day the ghost of another chicken joins the crowd in the dining room.
    If he could only see them!
    Hundreds and hundreds of spiritual chickens, sitting on chairs, tables, covering the floor, jammed shoulder to shoulder.
    At last there is no more space and one of the chickens is popped back across the spiritual plain to the earthly.
    The man is in the process of picking his teeth.
    Suddenly there is a chicken at the end of the table, strutting back and forth, not looking at the man but knowing he is there, as is the way with chickens.
    The man makes a grab for the chicken but his hand passes right through her. He tries to hit the chicken with a chair and the chair passes through her.
    He calls in his wife but she can see nothing.
    This is his own private chicken, even if he fails to recognize her.
    How is he to know this is a chicken he ate seven years ago on a hot and steamy Wednesday in July, with a little tarragon, a little sour cream?
    The man grows afraid.
    He runs out of his house flapping his arms and making peculiar hops until the authorities take him away for a cure.
    Faced with the choice between something odd in the world or something broken in his head, he opts for the broken head.
    Certainly, this is safer than putting his opinions in jeopardy.
    Much better to think he had imagined it, that he had made it happen.
    Meanwhile, the chicken struts back and forth at the end of the table.
    Here she was, jammed in with the ghosts of six thousand dead hens, when suddenly she has the whole place to herself.
    Even the nervous man has disappeared.
    If she had a brain, she would think she had caused it.
    She would grow vain, egotistical, she would look for someone to fight, but being a chicken she can just enjoy it and make little squawks, silent to all except the man who ate her, who is far off banging his head against a wall like someone trying to repair a leaky vessel, making certain that nothing unpleasant gets in or nothing of value falls out.
    How happy he would have been to be born a chicken, to be of good use to his fellow creatures and rich in companionship after death.
    As it is he is constantly being squeezed between the world and his idea of the world.
    Better to have a broken head - why surrender his corner on the truth? - better just to go crazy.


    - Stephen Dobyns
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  18. TopTop #2801
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    OM


    It’s the being
    The coming into being
    Not wherefrom
    Not where to
    That matters


    No name can explain
    No time has the better
    Religion has no ownership
    Neither time not space
    Beyond time and space


    Energy becoming mass
    Consciousness expressing
    Shiva to Shakti
    Before to now
    The present moment only


    Another moment
    A new present
    A new past
    Being, coming into being


    The true incarnation
    The recycling
    Energy to mass
    Mass to different forms
    The eyes, ears and thoughts of
    Earth, Space and Spirit


    Thus are we all
    Om and
    The silence before
    The silence after
    Om




    - Roy Woolfstead
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  20. TopTop #2802
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Psalm for a Lost Summer

    By the rivers of Estes Park, there we sat down, yes, we sighed, when we
    remembered Italy.

    We pressed our pens against paper, and we sat under the pine trees,
    listening to the crows.

    For there in Colorado we were captive at a high altitude, required
    to write without breath; and if we could not write, our consciences
    required us to read, and improve our minds.

    How shall we write our poems in this strange land?

    If I forget you, Venice, let my right hand forget to wind the fettuccini
    around the fork.

    If I do not remember balmy Sorrento, let me never taste lemons again;
    if I prefer not Capri above my chief joy.

    Remember, O Muse, the couple who strolled about Assisi; who said,
    How lovely this is, but next year let's vacation at home.

    O Citizens of Assisi, do not blame us for the earthquake that destroyed
    your basilica; how happy we were, looking at your frescos during a
    thunderstorm.

    Happy we shall be again, when we dash from this rented cabin, and
    drive down from these great stone mountains forever, Amen.


    - Maura Stanton
    Last edited by Bella Stolz; 03-05-2016 at 01:19 PM.
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  22. TopTop #2803
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    City Psalm

    The killings continue, each second
    pain and misfortune extend themselves
    in the genetic chain, injustice is done knowingly, and the air
    bears the dust of decayed hopes,
    yet breathing those fumes, walking the thronged
    pavements among crippled lives, jackhammers
    raging, a parking lot painfully agleam
    in the May sun, I have seen
    not behind but within, within the
    dull grief, blown grit, hideous
    concrete facades, another grief, a gleam
    as of dew, an abode of mercy,
    have heard not behind but within noise
    a humming that drifted into a quiet smile.
    Nothing was changed, all was revealed otherwise;
    not that horror was not, not that killings did not continue,
    but that as if transparent all disclosed
    an otherness that was blessed, that was bliss.

    I saw Paradise in the dust of the street.

    - Denise Levertov
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  24. TopTop #2804
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Supporting Roles


    A raucous ruckus
    was being raised
    by the Seal Island seals of Point Lobos
    and we were drinking it all in, when

    a squadron of pelicans,
    a hundred strong,
    in single undulating file,
    swoops down,
    leaving us seal-drunk and pelican-awed. And

    you said, best as I remember,
    “Pelicans only get a supporting role
    in a place like this…”
    And your eyes traced the landscape—
    sea, sun, rocks, sand, seal, sky.
    It took a moment to sink in,
    these things do; but

    isn’t that all any of us get—
    “Supporting roles”—
    in the great cosmic melodrama?
    Where the only stars
    are the stars—
    and there’s so many of them
    they hardly count.

    - Gary Turchin
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  26. TopTop #2805

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    thanks! put me right where I belong, mercifully small in the great Cosmic One.
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  28. TopTop #2806
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Apollo and Daphne, 1622

    Solid marble,
    empowered by Bernini,
    escapes Earth’s bounds,
    just as Daphne eludes
    the bonds of Apollo’s passion,
    wanting to break loose
    of his embrace,
    yet hesitating, glancing
    back over bare shoulder
    unbound hair billowing
    upward, arms rising,
    fingers spread in
    supplication, sprouting
    translucent leaves –
    defying gravity,
    the laws of nature,
    and the gods.

    Unable to resist
    the immense pull
    of this story in stone,
    I circle and circle,
    sensing Time’s
    harsh breath upon me.
    And I long
    to deny him, to slip
    from his arms,
    to dwell, like Daphne,
    beyond his grasp.

    - Jodi Hottel
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  29. Gratitude expressed by 3 members:

  30. TopTop #2807
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Two Kinds


    There are two kinds of people in the world;
    the ones with washers and dryers and the ones
    who unfurl their slips at the laundromat, spread
    saris and bed sheets by the river, hang
    their checkered boxers on the line.

    There are two: those who love Einstein
    for his relativity and those who love his hair.
    Those who relish words like infrastructure
    and problematic, and those who like to ponder
    life in the belly of the whale. For some,
    invitations come as night birds; others get
    a summons in the mail. These wander wet and
    lonely; those soft-shoe in rhythm with the rain.

    Two kinds: the tragic heroes and the understudies;
    the bootleggers and the cobblers. Wolf-whisperers
    and dogcatchers; shovellers of snow and readers
    of the flake. There are those who run into the room
    with a lit match, stopping to wonder what they came for,
    and the ones who run in without the match.

    - Prater Sereno
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  32. TopTop #2808
    Dan Gurney's Avatar
    Dan Gurney
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary notation, and those who don't.

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Larry Robinson: View Post
    Two Kinds

    There are two kinds of people in the world;...
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  34. TopTop #2809
    gardenmaniac's Avatar
    gardenmaniac
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    good one, Dan - one or the other ...

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Dan Gurney: View Post
    There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary notation, and those who don't.
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  36. TopTop #2810
    podfish's Avatar
    podfish
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Dan Gurney: View Post
    There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary notation, and those who don't.
    and you can only count to 14 if you use both your fingers AND your toes.
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  37. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  38. TopTop #2811
    Califoon
    Guest

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Gosh, why does it feel like a variation on #whiteprivilege to have math exhibitionists openly flashing in the poetry section?

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by podfish: View Post
    and you can only count to 14 if you use both your fingers AND your toes.
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  40. TopTop #2812
    Larry Robinson's Avatar
    WaccoBB Poet Laureate

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Irreverent Narrator

    I come alive reading
    a novel with
    an irreverent narrator
    because how
    can you take
    this rascal life
    seriously?
    Life, everyone’s outrageous
    sidekick with the big sombrero
    who laughs at you
    and almost never
    obeys your commands
    or even your kind
    suggestions,
    who make loud farts
    AND fart-noises so
    you can’t even tell
    which is which,
    who won’t sit still
    for a portrait,
    each one of which
    ends up showing only parts,
    but who
    may become a true friend if
    you stand your ground,
    crack your own jokes back,
    mine irony’s rich vein,
    and are willing to abandon
    every defense at
    a moment’s notice and become
    a damn fool
    for love.

    - Max Reif
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  41. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  42. TopTop #2813
    podfish's Avatar
    podfish
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Califoon: View Post
    Gosh, why does it feel like a variation on #whiteprivilege to have math exhibitionists openly flashing in the poetry section?
    that's pretty racist. Only white people do math?? and anti-intellectual too. Math isn't the antithesis of poetry, you know... in classic times, not like our modern degraded age, there wasn't the urge to partition philosophical realms that way. So how bout a #dilettante tag for those who haven't enough education to enjoy both?

    ok, one more. If you choose your numbers right, you have 10 fingers not counting your thumbs.
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  44. TopTop #2814
    Califoon
    Guest

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Well you see, there are two kinds of people...

    One kind feels the need to attack and vilify what they do not understand. This person is often quite literal and unable to imagine any more complicated emotional states or meanings beyond the obvious. The subtle humor and surrealism of a phrase like "math exhibitionists openly flashing" would be absolutely lost on this type. Not understanding, they will not ask the meaning. They will allow their unconscious mind to fill in every unknown from a list of evils they always keep on hand, and then they attack. And maybe tack on a random slur questioning social status and education. This is how witches get burned.

    Podfish, what are you doing here? Running for the Republican nomination? Why don't you be a good cop and put the gun down, ask a few questions next time.

    I loved the poem; I enjoyed the binary jokes. I will say, however, that to me math may as well be the opposite of poetry, thank you very much.
    At the heart of the white privilege issue I see people who are essentially oblivious to a good deal of their surroundings in terms of the lives lived by folks right in their own town. My ref there was just a weak joke about people being oblivious to their surroundings, farting in church, talking in library etc...
    I come to this miraculous fountain of poetry every day (actually it comes to me) and for me it IS a sanctuary. There is a good supply here of something that I find sorely lacking in the world around me and it helps me almost every day. Would I have Dan not post his thought?? NEVER. I had a funny emotional reaction ( a demi-dismay) to the notion of math being discussed in the poetry thread and I made a silly colorful joke about that, I hoped, not taking the time to craft and edit it for clarity and harmlessness. You gonna shoot me for a bad joke? I'd think that a waste of your time. relax, go have some tea and be thankful for something.

    I saw your gratitude and I appreciate that, but other folks are involved now and I thought it best to explain and put this to a timely close.
    All the best!, Cal


    Quote Posted in reply to the post by podfish: View Post
    that's pretty racist. Only white people do math?? and anti-intellectual too. Math isn't the antithesis of poetry, you know... in classic times, not like our modern degraded age, there wasn't the urge to partition philosophical realms that way. So how bout a #dilettante tag for those who haven't enough education to enjoy both?

    ok, one more. If you choose your numbers right, you have 10 fingers not counting your thumbs.
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  45. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  46. TopTop #2815
    Ronaldo's Avatar
    Ronaldo
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Humour - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humour

    Wikipedia

    Most people are able to experience humour—be amused, smile or laugh at something funny—and thus are considered to have a sense of humour. The hypothetical person lacking a sense of humour would likely find the behaviour induced by humour to be inexplicable, strange, or even irrational.

    note: Apparently that person is no longer hypothetical.

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by podfish: View Post
    that's pretty racist. Only white people do math?? and anti-intellectual too. Math isn't the antithesis of poetry, you know... in classic times, not like our modern degraded age, there wasn't the urge to partition philosophical realms that way. So how bout a #dilettante tag for those who haven't enough education to enjoy both?

    ok, one more. If you choose your numbers right, you have 10 fingers not counting your thumbs.
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  47. TopTop #2816
    Sara S's Avatar
    Sara S
    Auntie Wacco

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Well, I had to look up "binary notation" and still don't really understand it, but, having studied the I Ching for many years, I thought that this (from Wikipedia) was very interesting:

    The I Ching dates from the 9th century BC in China.[3] The binary notation in the I Ching is used to interpret its quaternary divination technique.[4]
    It is based on taoistic duality of yin and yang.[5] eight trigrams (Bagua) and a set of 64 hexagrams ("sixty-four" gua), analogous to the three-bit and six-bit binary numerals, were in use at least as early as the Zhou Dynasty of ancient China.[3]
    The contemporary scholar Shao Yong rearranged the hexagrams in a format that resembles modern binary numbers, although he did not intend his arrangement to be used mathematically.[4] Viewing the least significant bit on top of single hexagrams in Shao Yong's square and reading along rows either from bottom right to top left with solid lines as 0 and broken lines as 1 or from top left to bottom right with solid lines as 1 and broken lines as 0 hexagrams can be interpreted as sequence from 0 to 63. [6]
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  48. TopTop #2817
    podfish's Avatar
    podfish
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    ... hypothetically, some might find it ironic that the characterization of "overly literal" might work both ways... or be amused by the idea that 'hypothetically' and 'hyperbole' are both in use here. I could explain how taking an absurd premise at face value, or extending it to its logical extreme, can both be humourous, but explaining humor is a fool's errand. Although there's humour in foolishness too.

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Ronaldo: View Post
    Humour - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humour

    Wikipedia

    Most people are able to experience humour—be amused, smile or laugh at something funny—and thus are considered to have a sense of humour. The hypothetical person lacking a sense of humour would likely find the behaviour induced by humour to be inexplicable, strange, or even irrational.

    note: Apparently that person is no longer hypothetical.
    ... though I can see that it's possible to see my original post as a personal accusation, despite the wording. Sorry to have left that impression. Still not sorry if my sense of humour isn't universally shared, though. Shoulda used a smiley.
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  49. Gratitude expressed by:

  50. TopTop #2818
    gardenmaniac's Avatar
    gardenmaniac
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Califoon: View Post
    Well you see, there are two kinds of people...
    yes, as we say in our elite binary code, 10 kinds of ...
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  51. TopTop #2819
    Califoon
    Guest

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Any two for Elevenis?

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by gardenmaniac: View Post
    yes, as we say in our elite binary code, 10 kinds of ...
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  52. Gratitude expressed by 2 members:

  53. TopTop #2820
    carpet crawler's Avatar
    carpet crawler
     

    Re: Poem for the day from Larry Robinson

    Can't say that that exhibitionist exhibited much. Using binary, you can count to 16 on one hand, and if you used all your fingers and toes you can count up to 1,048,576...

    Quote Posted in reply to the post by Califoon: View Post
    Gosh, why does it feel like a variation on #whiteprivilege to have math exhibitionists openly flashing in the poetry section?
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