I write the following words: I write the following words with the utmost respect for you as a member of PostPoems.
I thought you believed that the Innkeeper was the greatest politician and leader in American History---like in your poem calling him our "golden leader"; as well as your poem, "Women, Trust . . . " Is he not Making American Great Again?
Roscoe update..: Roscoe update..
Many have asked, where's Roscoe?
The last I heard he's in Moscow
Knew he couldn't stay
In the USA
So one day he decided to just go
He emails occasionally. I'll tell him you asked about him. Thanks for your comment.
Ride um: Ropes and rashes
Maybe he’ll jump
Watch out for the horn
This one’s got a hump
Buck, buck, buck
Cowboys going for it
Hang on, hang on
Eight seconds with luck
Tape and gauze
Bandaids and bandages
Alcohol and spit
Rub it in, we gotta get
The next big show
Is coming up
It’ll be better in a week
For your arm and seat
Another buckle
another show
Maybe make some money
On the next go
I cannot find sufficient: I cannot find sufficient words for an adequate thank you. As always, you have validated the poem. I know you are very busy, so I really appreciate your time.
This was the first post after: This was the first post after a long hiatus between 2012 and 2022. Before that is hard to remember as well.
After reading it again, I realise that it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy in itself.
Strange how everything changes and yet remains the same for the most part as well.
Perhaps the more peopled our poems are the more they stand a chance at perpetuity.
Let's see what another revisit will reveal several years tomorrow form today.
A stirring and honorable: A stirring and honorable tribute that perfectly captures my own gratitude for his gift: the ability to make us forget our struggles for a while and just laugh. Nice work!
This is so much more than a: This is so much more than a tragic story of star crossed lovers. It has layers of rapture, agony, rage and a human face put on a shameful moment in history.
Written in the margins is a powerful commentary on injustice. And what is more unjust than the joys of love pulverized, annihilated, by senseless, demonic hate? Bringing the real tragedy to life against a backdrop of sweeping, historical disaster was expertly accomplished in the narration.
Without any unnecessary description, no burdensome explanation, we hear the story through the weary, pain-scarred voice of the old settler, shrewdly juxtaposed with angelic classical music in the background. When his lasting trauma (his aversion to music) is revealed, this detail becomes grimly poignant.
The story itself is a masterclass in vibrant, impactful compression. I felt the full spectrum of emotions like a storm that begins with soft, intoxicating winds and ends with utter destruction. So much lived. So much lost.
Congratulations on another milestone!
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