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Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
Gerard Van der Leun
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My sister just had a 30′ flag pole installed in her front yard and she put a US flag and a Trump 2020 flag on it. She says there is room for 1 more flag on it and asked what it should be. I sent her this one:
https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/61bWzrUhj%2BL._AC_SX450_.jpg
I bet An-tee-fa taste just like chicken if you cook ’em right.
Perfectly timed punch line and visual.
I read today that the Star Spangled Banner is racist, and one wag is suggesting Imagine, by John Lennon, as a replacement.
Lennon, who was English, which is the same England whose bombs were bursting in air when our flag was still there, died by gunfire in a crazed assassination on the streets of NYC. I was driving around with my teenage kids and it occurred to me to sing a new meme. They know a lot about cultural references, and so I began in sonorous Beatles voice: “Imagine there’s no heaven / BANG!” We all cracked up laughing.
I would suggest that our clever hunter add some additional ANTIFA attractants such as life size cardboard cutouts of several famous historical men, such as Jeff Davis, Robert E Lee, Christopher Columbus, etc, mounted on stood-up-on-end, round hay bales, perfect rural statutes you know. He should also run up the Stars and Bars on one of the poles to complete the die-o-ram-a.
Hey, MadTNTaxpayer, to add your list of “antifa”-attractants let me suggest a loudspeaker blaring “Dixie”!
To paraphrase Polish mercenary Rafal Ganowicz’ immortal reply when he was asked what it felt like to take human life:
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve only ever killed AntiFa.”
THAT is FUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNY!
Yup, it’s Skorpion for the win.
Casey,that’s the best rendition of “Imagine” I’ve ever heard. Teenagers are a tough crowd,too. They’ll be telling that Dad story to their own kids.
A belated Happy Father’s Day to you,and the other Dads who visit this fine establishment.
This statement may cause me to be de-platformed,or de-wormed,whatever the hell it is “they” do to anyone not “them”,but I’ll say it anyway:
Dads’ Lives Matter