Treasure Island

Poetics and Poetry Discussion

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  • Herbert Nehrlich1 (4/14/2005 1:40:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Sonja: I will not contact you again. I also will not comment on your misrepresentation of my message to you other than to say that people who alter or send messages out of context without revealing what they themselves sent before that are not worth much
    Poetryhound: I did not obtain a medical degree by 'correspondence'. No school anywhere on the globe offers these.
    I understand that you never made it out of High School.

  • Allan James Saywell (4/14/2005 1:40:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    i feel better now i'v said my prayers, i always face the south so the wind combs my hair tiptoe through the tulips
    with your darling and you
    kiss your sweetie rather
    deeply with your tongue
    like a goanna grab her
    like a spanner and twist
    lets twist again like
    we did last summer
    where did that come from rob

    Replies for this message:
  • Allan James Saywell (4/14/2005 1:22:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    west side story rob

  • Robert Rorabeck (4/14/2005 1:07:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    What? No rumble? I came armed with a switchblade and a whirligig. Well, if no one’s gonna fight, I’m going to sing a song about the gang I just joined. You might know this one too, so join in at any time,

    When you're a Jet you're a Jet all the way
    From your first cigarette To your last dying day
    When you're a Jet let them do what they can
    You've got brothers around You're a family man
    You're never alone You're never disconnected
    You're home with your own
    When company's expected You're well-protected T
    hen you are set with a Capital J
    Which you'll never forget 'till they cart you away
    When you're a Jet you stay a Jet!
    When you're a Jet you're the top cat in town
    The Gold medal kid with the heavyweight crown
    When you're a Jet you're the swingin'est thing
    Little boy, you're a man, Little man you're a king!
    The Jets are in gear Our cylinders are clickin'
    The sharks'll steer clear 'Cause every Puerto Rican's A lousy chicken!
    Here come the Jets like a bat outta hell
    Someone gets in our way, someone don't feel so well!
    Here come the Jets! Little world, step aside!
    Better go underground! Better run, Better hide!
    We're drawing the line, So keep your nose's hidden
    We're hangin' a sign Sayes visitors forbidden And we ain't kiddin'
    Here come the Jets! Yeah! And we're gonna beat every last buggin' gang on the whole buggin' street. on the whole ever mother lovin' street! Yeah!

    I don’t know about you guys, but that makes me feel a whole lot better. Anyone for ice-cream?

    Replies for this message:
    • Poetry Hound (4/14/2005 3:10:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      Nice one, Robert. In one of the versions of this song - I think in the original movie score - the third line is, 'When you're a jet, when the spit hits the fan' I think it works a little better.

  • Allan James Saywell (4/13/2005 10:58:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    GOOD EVENING america how are you, i promise my next poem will not be about
    the forum it was written in a TEEPEE, while smoking a peace pipe we both spoke
    in a language known only by the chief and myself, which consists of a series
    of grunts, grunt, grunt grunt, that is just a sample

  • Allan James Saywell (4/13/2005 10:51:00 PM) Post reply Stage


  • Andy Konisberg (4/13/2005 8:33:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I guess the 'peace talks' were not in vain, then: -)
    Well, it's probably no coincidence that Adolf broke every pact he ever made.
    Allan, I believe that you are a humorous person, and a capable person.
    I reserve comment on your friend.

  • Allan James Saywell (4/13/2005 7:35:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    sue casey of leeds who is 85 tells me she is leaving poem hunter, goodby
    just one of my many emails, from britain mind you, a little bit suspicious

  • Allan James Saywell (4/13/2005 7:29:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    sonja have tears for the people of ireland, who were killed by the terrorist
    who still live in your country, dont have tears for me

  • Herbert Nehrlich1 (4/13/2005 6:32:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    And before I go to play with my marbles (good subject for you Kolb) the author Estes would have discarded insignificants like yourself without further ado. You probably felt some stirrings when you attempted to read the book with the help of a neighbour but then found that it was all wishful thinking.

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