MY CHALLENGE to the discerning.
- Thread starter Raptor
- Start date
Callinectes
Proud MAGA Semi-Facist
Interesting. She shares a rather engaging piece of literature, and a heartbeat later, it's like her medication has worn off!
Mott the Hoople
Sweet Jane
Oh your evil alright but not because you've told lies about war. It's because you drink Cabernet with Salmon. What kind of evil fuck drinks red wine with fish?
Mott the Hoople
Sweet Jane
How old where you when he was killed? I was 12 when our friend died. Old enough to understand what had happened but not old enough to really understand what was going on in regards to the Vietnam war.
cawacko
Well-known member
I wasn't born yet so I've only seen pictures and heard stories about him. I can still remember sitting next to Grandma at her home in Columbus and her showing me his pictures. She had tears coming down her face and this was 30 years later. (I'm sure no parent ever gets over losing a child)
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Leonthecat
Racism Watchdog
The Spoils of War
And the troops go marching proudly by
as she wipes a tear from her weary eyes,
the one that she seeks, she will never again hold
for he died at his post; he was thirty years old.
The colours fly high on a cool autumn breeze
as man and boy march with well practiced ease,
so glad to be home after being so brave,
with flags overhead and not covering their graves.
She can bare it no longer as tears start to flow
down pale damp cheeks as she sways to and fro,
too much of their blood spilled on foreign fields
at the whim of the tyrants and their deadly deals.
Friends hold her up with compassion and love
and so many look down from the heavens above,
surrounded by many who share in her grief
but the feelings yield little by way of relief.
And the troops go marching proudly by
as she wipes a tear from her weary eyes,
the one that she seeks, she will never again hold
for he died at his post; he was thirty years old.
The colours fly high on a cool autumn breeze
as man and boy march with well practiced ease,
so glad to be home after being so brave,
with flags overhead and not covering their graves.
She can bare it no longer as tears start to flow
down pale damp cheeks as she sways to and fro,
too much of their blood spilled on foreign fields
at the whim of the tyrants and their deadly deals.
Friends hold her up with compassion and love
and so many look down from the heavens above,
surrounded by many who share in her grief
but the feelings yield little by way of relief.
cancel2 2022
Canceled
Oh your evil alright but not because you've told lies about war. It's because you drink Cabernet with Salmon. What kind of evil fuck drinks red wine with fish?
Well I do for one, whilst in Vietnam I had some salt encrusted Red Snapper with a red wine from Da Lat. Not the greatest wine to be honest but being in the Mekong Delta helped to make up for that.
USFREEDOM911
MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN
Eulogy for a Veteran
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the Gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the Gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
Leonthecat
Racism Watchdog
Every Time a Bell Rings an Angel Gets His Wings, what a retard.
LT, thank you.
That is truly so.
Were it really so........
Leonthecat
Racism Watchdog
Got news for you retard.
They did die, usually for nothing, and it's largely the fault of ignorant bellicose douchebags just like you.
USFREEDOM911
MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN
Leonthecat
Racism Watchdog
No shit; huh.
Take a laxative, huh.
Airstrip One
Completely Effed
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely, and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all to short a date.
Sometimes, too hot, the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair, thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade.
And in eternal lines to time, thou growest.
So long as men can breath, or eyes can see.
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely, and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all to short a date.
Sometimes, too hot, the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair, thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade.
And in eternal lines to time, thou growest.
So long as men can breath, or eyes can see.
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Buckly J. Ewer
Racism Whistleblower
She Walks in Beauty
BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
moon
Satire for Sanity
Tighten my fetters.
Confiscate my papers
and cigarettes.
Fill my mouth with dust.
Poetry is blood in the heart,
salt in bread,
moisture in eyes.
It is written with fingernails,
with eyes,
with daggers.
I shall proclaim in my detention cell,
in the bathroom,
in the stable,
under the lash,
manacled,
in the violence of chains,
that a million birds
on the branches of my heart,
are singing fighting songs.
Mahmoud Darwish
Confiscate my papers
and cigarettes.
Fill my mouth with dust.
Poetry is blood in the heart,
salt in bread,
moisture in eyes.
It is written with fingernails,
with eyes,
with daggers.
I shall proclaim in my detention cell,
in the bathroom,
in the stable,
under the lash,
manacled,
in the violence of chains,
that a million birds
on the branches of my heart,
are singing fighting songs.
Mahmoud Darwish