Treasure Island

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  • Augustus Egg (5/28/2009 8:31:00 PM) Post reply

    if a poem isn’t an excursion, then what is it?
    an outing
    an errand
    a stroll down memory lane?

    unconquerable fear (an excursion into the mountains)

    ice tilted sunwards
    weight well forward
    small hand holds
    a sense of exposure
    makes that foot placement look dicey

  • Augustus Egg (5/28/2009 8:18:00 PM) Post reply

    spelling tips

    sometimes it’s an idea to pepper your forum posts with
    spelling errors of omission.

    by that, i mean for example: weigt for weight
    not weight for wait

    it will give your replies especially,
    the addled effect of spotaneity

  • Augustus Egg (5/27/2009 10:42:00 PM) Post reply

    to those who say what else is there to write about
    when there is hunger and privatisation in the world
    i’ll reinstate two stalwarts:
    the positron and freemasory

  • Augustus Egg (5/27/2009 7:44:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    when we poets are writing our poems
    we are not thinking straight

    we are slow and meandering
    like a lava stream

    Replies for this message:
    • Kori Haffmun (5/30/2009 8:36:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      Sometime when I write ideas just come to my mind. It's not slow at all. It's more like a crack of lightning to the head, if you know what I mean.

  • Augustus Egg (5/27/2009 6:50:00 PM) Post reply

    write something
    as if it were a duty
    as if the possibilities are not yet exhausted
    for instance
    you could
    have someone say
    something interesting
    about something unexciting
    like the law of averages:

    ‘the day starts
    with nothing
    resembling a plot’

    is this true?

    who knows?
    that’s partly
    what makes it exciting

  • Stephen K. (5/19/2009 6:18:00 PM) Post reply

    http: //

  • Le Minh Hoang (5/17/2009 4:18:00 PM) Post reply

    yesterday, today, & forever

    if letting Maya go
    from my heart

    trees can think
    instead of sinking
    under acid rain

    and night
    can finally
    quiet its

    a reflection
    in a river, slip & sliding
    into an ocean of





    but i don’t
    & don’t know why

  • Bullion Grey (5/12/2009 10:07:00 PM) Post reply

    Prior Note: Laying in a field, naked, late at night, Robin Williams tells a story through the thoughts of his character Parry.

    The Chalice of Grace
    Here’s the story of the Grail myth, and although there are several variations, my favorite begins with the fisher king… as a young boy… who had to spend a night alone in the forest to prove his courage… and during that night he is visited by a sacred vision.

    Out of the fire appears the holy Grail, God’s highest symbol of Divine Grace. And a voice says to the boy “You shall be the guardian of the Grail, that it may heal the hearts of men”…… but the boy was overcome…. innocent and foolish he was blinded by greater visions of life ahead filled with beauty and glory, hope and power…. tears filled his eyes as he senses his own invincibility….a boy with tears of naïve wonder and inspiration.

    And in this state of radical amazement…. he felt for a brief moment not like a boy, but like God. So he reached into the fire to take the Grail. And the Grail vanishes, the boy’s hands are left caught in the flames…. leaving him wounded and ashamed at what his recklessness had lost.

    When he became king he was determined to reclaim his destiny and find the Grail…. but with each year that passed with each campaign he fought, the Grail remained lost and his wound he suffered in the fire grew worse…. he became a bitter man.

    Life to him lost its reason. With each disappointment, with each betrayal with each loss, his wound would grow…. soon the land began to spoil from neglect and his people starved…. until finally became lost all faith, even in God’s existence and in man’s value…. He lost his ability to love or to be loved and he was so sick with experience that he started to die.

    As the years went on his bravest nights would search for the Grail that would heal their king and make them the most respected and valued man and the land, but to no avail. Pretty soon finding the Grail became a ruthless struggle between ambitious men vying for the King’s power which only confirmed the Kings worst suspicions of man causing his wound to grow. His only hope he thought was death.

    Then one day a fool was brought to the king….to cheer him. He was a simpleminded man, not particularly skilled, or admired…. he tells the king some jokes….sings him some songs…. but the King feels even worse.

    finally the fool says “What is it that hurts you so much? How can I help? ”.

    The King says “I need a sip of water to cool my throat.” So the fool takes a cup from the bedstand, fills it with water and hands it to the king. Suddenly the King feels a lot better.

    When he looks to his hands he sees that it was the holy Grail the fool has handed him. An ordinary cup that had been bedside his bed all along….and the king asks “How can this be? … could you find what all my knights and wisest men could not find? ” and the fool answers “I don’t know, I only knew you were thirsty.” For the first time since he was a boy, the King felt more than a man - not because he was touched by God’s glory… but rather because he was touched by the compassion of a fool.

    From the script of the film: The Fisher King

  • Bullion Grey (5/7/2009 7:10:00 PM) Post reply

    I walked over here_________________________X
    It was a short jaunt.
    Then I came back X____________________________
    Another perspective. I layed down steps _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
    but was unstatisfied.
    So I just smiled :) and called it a night.

  • Bullion Grey (4/26/2009 12:02:00 PM) Post reply

    this little dot is famous . it has appeared in so many writings and this little dot. never gets any credit I today salute the little dot we call period .

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