MJ's Zero to 5000 in No Time Flat!

talkinghands

talkinghands

New Member
BAck from church dinner and choir rehearsal but skipped deaf Bible Study. Leg is really sore so I have it up and am resting. Will probably go to bed early. Huggles to all.
 
maggiegrace1

maggiegrace1

Well-Known Member
talkinghands said:
BAck from church dinner and choir rehearsal but skipped deaf Bible Study. Leg is really sore so I have it up and am resting. Will probably go to bed early. Huggles to all.
Click to expand...

Huggles... Hope your leg feels better..:wave:
 
Dukeblue1016

Dukeblue1016

New Member
maggiegrace1 said:
I Like them Too... Im Moving On... And These days are my faves...Your siggy Too...:)
Click to expand...


These days and What hurts the most are absolutely my two favorites... moving on is buckets too... I saw them in Concert last summer, man... too many great hits

for anyone who doesn't know them, download those three songs along with;

Bless the broken road
Fast cars and freedom
Feels like today
I melt
Mayberry


EDIT: by download I mean... pay money for the cds.... I don't wanna promote that since I forgot that downloading music has become highly illegal... :(

just a few for kicks, but there's no bad song by them... oh man


Chesney is also the man
 
Pongo

Pongo

New Member
maggiegrace1 said:
hi Luke:wave: ... Can we hear the poem?
Click to expand...

Sure, I'll post it up here.

But a little preface: It was supposed to be written mimicking the style of a portion of the play Cyrano de Bergerac. The portion is titled "No, Thank you", as is my poem. It's supposed to be about what we won't do to make out way to the "top", hence the "no, thank you". Then we say what will do to get to the "top".

Also, I plan on being a zoologist, that's why the entire poem references animals. It's my little subtle way of saying how I am really into animals.

Anyway, "No, Thank You":

If only to be the Top Dog,
The Alpha Male,
The Patriarch,
The Silverback.
And what shall I do
To become the Bull?
Attach myself
To the bottom of a shark,
Only to feed off the decaying remains?
Am I meant to be the Remora
On the belly of the Whale,
Loosed in the churning
Waters of the tides?
No, Thank you.
The Head of the Pride
The largest mane of all –
Received by lazing
In the shade of the Acacia?
Lethargy, as the Lionesses
On the hunt: Kill and Slaughter,
Maim, Wound, and Destroy
While I
Sit idly by.
For idle hands make the Devil’s work.
Shall I be the devil’s provocateur?
Incite rage in others
Cause battles within the Herd
Only for the justification
Of rising to the top
Of the Food Chain?
No, thank you.
Who am I to contradict
The Laws of Nature? Of Mother Earth?
Sister Sea, Brother Sky?
Shall I unbind myself from Father Time?
No, thank you.
Build a Web of Deceit
To ensnare friend and foe alike?
Am I to be the Widow,
Swallowing the weak in my Poison Jaw,
Having no further use
For what once was My Own?
Further trap the unsuspecting
In my Network of Trickery,
Wrap them in a coil,
Suck out their insides,
Gain Life from their Death?
A simple Tailor of a simple Tragedy?
No, thank you.
But to fly free with the Flock,
Swim swift with the School,
Resurrected from this Extinction,
Like a Terrible Lizard.
Grow antlers of my own
For the yearly Rut,
Fighting not only for Myself,
But for the safety of my Troupe.
Chafing off the Velvet that adorns my Horns,
Born again to combat the Opponent,
Only to lose my Ornaments
In the Dead of Winter.
Swimming upstream to Leave My Mark,
Past the Grizzly Brutality that awaits
On the Steps;
Alighting for Life, Leaping for Love,
Avoiding the Fangs
Of the Enemy Above,
Finding my true colors
In the Brackish Water.
Slow and Steady wins the Race,
Plodding along at a Patient Pace,
Ever on the lookout;
Retreat into my shell,
My Terrapin Firma , if need be,
But ever so slowly lumbering on,
For turtles are the oldest of souls,
(One Hundred Seventy-Five)
And if I am to last so long
As to see the day
Of One Seventy Six
The return of the Condor,
The comeback of the Thylacine,
The homecoming of the Dodo
(But only in the Truest sense of the Bird);
To save but one life
On this Man-Forsaken Rock,
I must first revive myself,
Free of my cocoon,
Finally becoming
King of the Jungle.
 
maggiegrace1

maggiegrace1

Well-Known Member
Pongo said:
Sure, I'll post it up here.

But a little preface: It was supposed to be written mimicking the style of a portion of the play Cyrano de Bergerac. The portion is titled "No, Thank you", as is my poem. It's supposed to be about what we won't do to make out way to the "top", hence the "no, thank you". Then we say what will do to get to the "top".

Also, I plan on being a zoologist, that's why the entire poem references animals. It's my little subtle way of saying how I am really into animals.

Anyway, "No, Thank You":

If only to be the Top Dog,
The Alpha Male,
The Patriarch,
The Silverback.
And what shall I do
To become the Bull?
Attach myself
To the bottom of a shark,
Only to feed off the decaying remains?
Am I meant to be the Remora
On the belly of the Whale,
Loosed in the churning
Waters of the tides?
No, Thank you.
The Head of the Pride
The largest mane of all –
Received by lazing
In the shade of the Acacia?
Lethargy, as the Lionesses
On the hunt: Kill and Slaughter,
Maim, Wound, and Destroy
While I
Sit idly by.
For idle hands make the Devil’s work.
Shall I be the devil’s provocateur?
Incite rage in others
Cause battles within the Herd
Only for the justification
Of rising to the top
Of the Food Chain?
No, thank you.
Who am I to contradict
The Laws of Nature? Of Mother Earth?
Sister Sea, Brother Sky?
Shall I unbind myself from Father Time?
No, thank you.
Build a Web of Deceit
To ensnare friend and foe alike?
Am I to be the Widow,
Swallowing the weak in my Poison Jaw,
Having no further use
For what once was My Own?
Further trap the unsuspecting
In my Network of Trickery,
Wrap them in a coil,
Suck out their insides,
Gain Life from their Death?
A simple Tailor of a simple Tragedy?
No, thank you.
But to fly free with the Flock,
Swim swift with the School,
Resurrected from this Extinction,
Like a Terrible Lizard.
Grow antlers of my own
For the yearly Rut,
Fighting not only for Myself,
But for the safety of my Troupe.
Chafing off the Velvet that adorns my Horns,
Born again to combat the Opponent,
Only to lose my Ornaments
In the Dead of Winter.
Swimming upstream to Leave My Mark,
Past the Grizzly Brutality that awaits
On the Steps;
Alighting for Life, Leaping for Love,
Avoiding the Fangs
Of the Enemy Above,
Finding my true colors
In the Brackish Water.
Slow and Steady wins the Race,
Plodding along at a Patient Pace,
Ever on the lookout;
Retreat into my shell,
My Terrapin Firma , if need be,
But ever so slowly lumbering on,
For turtles are the oldest of souls,
(One Hundred Seventy-Five)
And if I am to last so long
As to see the day
Of One Seventy Six
The return of the Condor,
The comeback of the Thylacine,
The homecoming of the Dodo
(But only in the Truest sense of the Bird);
To save but one life
On this Man-Forsaken Rock,
I must first revive myself,
Free of my cocoon,
Finally becoming
King of the Jungle.
Click to expand...



:sohappy: Very, Very, Good Luke.. I am very impressed..:)
 

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