On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:37:19 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:26:52 PM UTC-5, Zod wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 2:41:33 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > Agre
> > > Sounds like bullshit to me
> > >
> > > Not the first time I had my face rubbed in my own bovine scatology but I still appreciate the poem.
> > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> Why do you judge it of low quality?

I didn’t say or suggest that it was “low” quality. Must you misread everything?

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
>
>> George J. Dance wrote:
>
> > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > >
> > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > I read it again.
> > > > Keep it up, George.
> I still appreciate the poem.
> I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.

Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?

If so. what?

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:42:22 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:21:02 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > >
> > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > >
> > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > >
> > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > >
> > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > >
> > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > >
> > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> > > > >
> > > > > 🙂
> > > > It's pathological, not poetic.
> > > I like George's poem.
> > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem. We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
> >
> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
> > > I read it again.
> > > Keep it up, George.
> > Why quote George Dance's wife?
>
> Why quote George Dance's wife?
> It's good encouragement, Nancy. You would do well to give the same to your humpty boyfriend Sluggo!!
> Still like the poem for the same reasons I stated and you have confuted.
> Good poetry evokes many and oft times, divergent takes.

Bad poetry does has the same effect. Go figure.

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:42:47 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:37:19 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 2:41:33 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
>
> > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> I still appreciate the poem.
> > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > Why do you judge it of low quality?
> I didn’t say or suggest that it was “low” quality.. Must you misread everything?

Okay, thanks for the heads up.

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> >
> >> George J. Dance wrote:
> >
> > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > I still appreciate the poem.
> > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
>
> If so. what?

I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes..

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 9:42:22 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:21:02 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > >
> > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > >
> > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > >
> > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > >
> > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > >
> > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > >
> > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> > > > >
> > > > > 🙂
> > > > It's pathological, not poetic.
> > > I like George's poem.
> > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem. We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
> >
> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
> > > I read it again.
> > > Keep it up, George.
> > Why quote George Dance's wife?
>
> Why quote George Dance's wife?
> It's good encouragement, Nancy. You would do well to give the same to your humpty boyfriend Sluggo!!
You missed the joke, Dennis.

> Still like the poem for the same reasons I stated and you have confuted.
If we proved you wrong, then the poem is "not" sad or bold.

> Good poetry evokes many and oft times, divergent takes.
It is a pedestrian poem--not bad enough to be so bad that it's good (or amusing or thought-provoking). There are too many "oh's" (five!) as in "Oh where oh where has my Father's House gone?"

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > >
> > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > >
> > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> >
> > If so. what?
> I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.

Okay, thanks.

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:42:22 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:21:02 PM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > >
> > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > >
> > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > >
> > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > >
> > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > >
> > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > >
> > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > >
> > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > >
> > > > > Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> > > > >
> > > > > 🙂
> > > > It's pathological, not poetic.
> > > I like George's poem.
> > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem. We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
> >
> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
> > > I read it again.
> > > Keep it up, George.
> > Why quote George Dance's wife?
>
> Why quote George Dance's wife?
> It's good encouragement, Nancy. You would do well to give the same to your humpty boyfriend Sluggo!!
> Still like the poem for the same reasons I stated and you have confuted.
> Good poetry evokes many and oft times, divergent takes.

The poem is technically proficient; George is a capable craftsman. But it's dead inside, and it goes absolutely nowhere. For a masterpiece of a poem that deals with the same kind of subject matter read Sylvia Plath's The Colossus. Or Daddy.

On 2022-12-03 2:41 p.m., Dennis Rowan wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>> George J. Dance wrote:
>>>>
>>>> My Father's House
>>>
>>>> This is my father's house, although
>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>>>
>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>>>
>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>>>
>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>>>> To be so many other places.
>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>>>
>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>>>
>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>>>
>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>>>
>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>>>
>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>>>
>>>> ~~
>>>> George J. Dance
>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>>
>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
>>>
>>> 🙂
>> It's pathological, not poetic.
>
> I like George's poem.
> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> I read it again.
> Keep it up, George.

Thank you for reading and for commenting, Dennis; and let me welcome you
to appc, too.

I don't like a lot of confessional poetry, but there are some that are
done well (many of Plath's, eg) that I've enjoyed; and this poem is to
some degree confessional, as the speaker's roughly based on me in my
much younger days. But it's not really confessional, but a dramatic
monologue; the speaker's not me, and I've modified facts (leaving out
some, exaggerating others) for the sake of the goal, to give the reader
a look into the mind of the speaker.

I am really glad that you liked it, and even more so that you liked it
that much, enough to write and tell me.

George J. Dance wrote:

> On 2022-12-03 2:41 p.m., Dennis Rowan wrote:
>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>>> George J. Dance wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>> My Father's House
>>>>
>>>>> This is my father's house, although
>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>>>>
>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>>>>
>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>>>>
>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>>>>> To be so many other places.
>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>>>>
>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>>>>
>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>>>>
>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>>>>
>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>>>>
>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>>>>
>>>>> ~~
>>>>> George J. Dance
>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>>>
>>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
>
>>> It's pathological, not poetic.
>>
>> I like George's poem.
>> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
>> I read it again.
>> Keep it up, George.

> Thank you for reading and for commenting, Dennis; and let me welcome you
> to appc, too.

> I don't like a lot of confessional poetry, but there are some that are
> done well (many of Plath's, eg) that I've enjoyed; and this poem is to
> some degree confessional, as the speaker's roughly based on me in my
> much younger days. But it's not really confessional, but a dramatic
> monologue; the speaker's not me, and I've modified facts (leaving out
> some, exaggerating others) for the sake of the goal, to give the reader
> a look into the mind of the speaker.

> I am really glad that you liked it, and even more so that you liked it
> that much, enough to write and tell me.

Well put, G.D....!

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:21:43 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-12-03 2:41 p.m., Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> >> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >>> George J. Dance wrote:
> >>>>
> >>>> My Father's House
> >>>
> >>>> This is my father's house, although
> >>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >>>
> >>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >>>
> >>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >>>
> >>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >>>> To be so many other places.
> >>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >>>
> >>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >>>
> >>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >>>
> >>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >>>
> >>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >>>
> >>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >>>
> >>>> ~~
> >>>> George J. Dance
> >>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >>>
> >>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> >>>
> >>> 🙂
> >> It's pathological, not poetic.
> >
> > I like George's poem.
> > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > I read it again.
> > Keep it up, George.
> Thank you for reading and for commenting, Dennis; and let me welcome you
> to appc, too.
>
> I don't like a lot of confessional poetry, but there are some that are
> done well (many of Plath's, eg) that I've enjoyed; and this poem is to
> some degree confessional, as the speaker's roughly based on me in my
> much younger days. But it's not really confessional, but a dramatic
> monologue; the speaker's not me, and I've modified facts (leaving out
> some, exaggerating others) for the sake of the goal, to give the reader
> a look into the mind of the speaker.
>
> I am really glad that you liked it, and even more so that you liked it
> that much, enough to write and tell me.

Dennis seems a bit cantankerous, but good to see new members of the poetry group.

On 2022-12-03 4:21 p.m., NancyGene wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>>>> George J. Dance wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>> My Father's House
>>>>
>>>>> This is my father's house, although
>>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>>>>
>>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>>>>
>>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>>>>
>>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>>>>> To be so many other places.
>>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>>>>
>>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>>>>
>>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>>>>
>>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>>>>
>>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>>>>
>>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>>>>
>>>>> ~~
>>>>> George J. Dance
>>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>>>>
>>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
>>>>
>>>> 🙂
>>> It's pathological, not poetic.
>> I like George's poem.
>> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
>
> We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem.

That's a weird take. There's only one person in the poem; who is he
supposed to be taking revenge on?

> We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.

True; the speaker isn't taking any bold actions. I think Dennis was
referring to the subject matter; as we've seen, it can be controversial.

> It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
>

I listened; I just disagreed.

>> I read it again.
>> Keep it up, George.
> Why quote George Dance's wife?

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 11:38:11 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-12-03 4:21 p.m., NancyGene wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> >> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> >>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>> George J. Dance wrote:
> >>>>>
> >>>>> My Father's House
> >>>>
> >>>>> This is my father's house, although
> >>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >>>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >>>>
> >>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >>>>> To be so many other places.
> >>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >>>>
> >>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >>>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >>>>
> >>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >>>>
> >>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >>>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >>>>
> >>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >>>>
> >>>>> ~~
> >>>>> George J. Dance
> >>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >>>>
> >>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> >>>>
> >>>> 🙂
> >>> It's pathological, not poetic.
> >> I like George's poem.
> >> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> >
> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem.
> That's a weird take. There's only one person in the poem; who is he
> supposed to be taking revenge on?
George Dance, George Dance, George Dance! Revenge on the memory of his father in the blasted house of child abuse.

> > We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
> True; the speaker isn't taking any bold actions. I think Dennis was
> referring to the subject matter; as we've seen, it can be controversial.
> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
> >
> I listened; I just disagreed.
You should have listened again--the asides are too cutesy and break the mood/are off topic.

> >> I read it again.
> >> Keep it up, George.
> > Why quote George Dance's wife?

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 6:38:11 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
> On 2022-12-03 4:21 p.m., NancyGene wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> >> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
> >>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> >>>> George J. Dance wrote:
> >>>>>
> >>>>> My Father's House
> >>>>
> >>>>> This is my father's house, although
> >>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
> >>>>> They said it would be quite all right
> >>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> >>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
> >>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
> >>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
> >>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> >>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
> >>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> >>>>
> >>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> >>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> >>>>> To be so many other places.
> >>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> >>>>
> >>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
> >>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
> >>>>> While watching my friends run and play
> >>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
> >>>>
> >>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> >>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
> >>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> >>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
> >>>>
> >>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> >>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> >>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
> >>>>> To read or play alone, and then
> >>>>
> >>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> >>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> >>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
> >>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> >>>>
> >>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
> >>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
> >>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> >>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
> >>>>
> >>>>> ~~
> >>>>> George J. Dance
> >>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> >>>>
> >>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
> >>>>
> >>>> 🙂
> >>> It's pathological, not poetic.
> >> I like George's poem.
> >> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> >
> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem.
> That's a weird take. There's only one person in the poem; who is he
> supposed to be taking revenge on?

His daddy.The speaker wants to burn down his father's house in a box. Thereby destroying his father's symbol of success (however limited) in life.

> > We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
> True; the speaker isn't taking any bold actions. I think Dennis was
> referring to the subject matter; as we've seen, it can be controversial.

It's bold to publicly admit that you used to bare your bottom in anticipation of a nightly whipping. Airing one's dirty laundry in public takes some degree of boldness. Although, otoh, it can just be embarrassing for both the author and his readers. In George's case, I think he pulled it off -- even though his subsequent attempts to deny it make one think that he remains em-bare-assed by it.

> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
> >
> I listened; I just disagreed.
> >> I read it again.
> >> Keep it up, George.
> > Why quote George Dance's wife?

Michael Pendragon wrote:

> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 6:38:11 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> On 2022-12-03 4:21 p.m., NancyGene wrote:
>> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 7:41:33 PM UTC, Dennis Rowan wrote:
>> >> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 1:15:49 PM UTC-5, rjbur...@gmail.com wrote:
>> >>> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 8:48:08 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
>> >>>> George J. Dance wrote:
>> >>>>>
>> >>>>> My Father's House
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> This is my father's house, although
>> >>>>> The man died thirteen years ago.
>> >>>>> They said it would be quite all right
>> >>>>> To take a drive to see it now.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
>> >>>>> And built the whole thing (from a box),
>> >>>>> Toiling after each full day's work.
>> >>>>> I helped, though I was only six.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Look, here's the back door I would use
>> >>>>> And here's where I'd remove my shoes
>> >>>>> To enter; there I'd leave my things
>> >>>>> And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> In this room I'd wash many a dish,
>> >>>>> Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
>> >>>>> To be so many other places.
>> >>>>> (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Outside, the garden that he grew
>> >>>>> Where I would work the summers through,
>> >>>>> While watching my friends run and play
>> >>>>> Mysterious games I never knew.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
>> >>>>> The one chair I was let to sit?
>> >>>>> (For boys can be such filthy things.)
>> >>>>> Which, the corner where boys were put?
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Oh ... down that hall there is a room
>> >>>>> Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
>> >>>>> After the meal, to make no noise,
>> >>>>> To read or play alone, and then
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
>> >>>>> Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
>> >>>>> Face and pyjama bottoms down
>> >>>>> As for my father's belt I'd wait.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> Oh, if I were a millionaire
>> >>>>> I'd buy my father's house, and there
>> >>>>> I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
>> >>>>> Its flames would light up all the air.
>> >>>>
>> >>>>> ~~
>> >>>>> George J. Dance
>> >>>>> from Logos and other logoi, 2021
>> >>>>
>> >>>> Again, excellent poetry, as all apparently agree.
>> >>>>
>> >>>> 🙂
>> >>> It's pathological, not poetic.
>> >> I like George's poem.
>> >> It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
>> >
>> > We don't see it as a sad poem--rather, it is a revenge poem.
>> That's a weird take. There's only one person in the poem; who is he
>> supposed to be taking revenge on?

> His daddy.The speaker wants to burn down his father's house in a box. Thereby destroying his father's symbol of success (however limited) in life.

>> > We don't consider it to be bold either, since the speaker is tentative.
>> True; the speaker isn't taking any bold actions. I think Dennis was
>> referring to the subject matter; as we've seen, it can be controversial.

> It's bold to publicly admit that you used to bare your bottom in anticipation of a nightly whipping. Airing one's dirty laundry in public takes some degree of boldness. Although, otoh, it can just be embarrassing for both the author and his readers. In George's case, I think he pulled it off -- even though his subsequent attempts to deny it make one think that he remains em-bare-assed by it.

"Try not to confuse the speaker of the poem with the writer of the poem." -Karla Rogers

>> > It is certainly affected, though--the use of parentheses in two places makes it so. George Dance was told in an earlier thread to lose the parentheses, but he did not listen.
>> >
>> I listened; I just disagreed.
>> >> I read it again.
>> >> Keep it up, George.
>> > Why quote George Dance's wife?

On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > >
> > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > >
> > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > >
> > > If so. what?
> > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> Okay, thanks.

No worries, happy to oblige.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > >
> > > > If so. what?
> > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > Okay, thanks.
> No worries, happy to oblige.

Good morning, "Go team."

🙂

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > >
> > > > > If so. what?
> > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > Okay, thanks.
> > No worries, happy to oblige.
> Good morning, "Go team."
>
> 🙂

Yes, you’re welcome.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > >
> > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > Good morning, "Go team."
> >

> Yes, you’re welcome.

Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:21:09 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > > Good morning, "Go team."
> > >
>
> > Yes, you’re welcome.
> Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.

That must be directed at Robert Burrows also.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:28:22 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:21:09 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > > > Good morning, "Go team."
> > > >
> >
> > > Yes, you’re welcome.
> > Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.
> That must be directed at Robert Burrows also.

No shit, Pastor Sherlock.

🙂

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:32:52 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:28:22 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:21:09 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > > > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > > > > Good morning, "Go team."
> > > > >
> > >
> > > > Yes, you’re welcome.
> > > Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.
> > That must be directed at Robert Burrows also.
> No shit, Pastor Sherlock.
>
> 🙂

Robert’s not here right now, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to address your apparent
hostility at his earliest opportunity, since it obviously has nothing to do with me.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:38:43 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:32:52 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:28:22 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:21:09 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not..
> > > > > > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > > > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > > > > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > > > > > Good morning, "Go team."
> > > > > >
> > > >
> > > > > Yes, you’re welcome.
> > > > Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.
> > > That must be directed at Robert Burrows also.
> > No shit, Pastor Sherlock.
> >
>
> Robert’s not here right now, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to address your apparent
> hostility at his earliest opportunity, since it obviously has nothing to do with me.

You're confused, I'm not at all hostile.

HTH and HAND.

On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:45:01 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:38:43 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:32:52 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:28:22 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:21:09 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 11:12:44 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 9:30:36 AM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > On Sunday, December 4, 2022 at 7:05:46 AM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 5:13:31 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:58:57 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 4:45:38 PM UTC-5, Will Dockery wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:57:15 PM UTC-5, Spam-I-Am wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > > On Saturday, December 3, 2022 at 3:39:55 PM UTC-5, Dennis Rowan wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > >> George J. Dance wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > My Father's House
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > This is my father's house, although
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The man died thirteen years ago.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > They said it would be quite all right
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To take a drive to see it now.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And built the whole thing (from a box),
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Toiling after each full day's work.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I helped, though I was only six.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Look, here's the back door I would use
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And here's where I'd remove my shoes
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To enter; there I'd leave my things
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > In this room I'd wash many a dish,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To be so many other places.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Outside, the garden that he grew
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I would work the summers through,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > While watching my friends run and play
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Mysterious games I never knew.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > The one chair I was let to sit?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > (For boys can be such filthy things.)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Which, the corner where boys were put?
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh ... down that hall there is a room
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > After the meal, to make no noise,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > To read or play alone, and then
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Face and pyjama bottoms down
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > As for my father's belt I'd wait.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Oh, if I were a millionaire
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd buy my father's house, and there
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Its flames would light up all the air.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > ~~
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > George J. Dance
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > from Logos and other logoi, 2021
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I like George's poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > It's a sad poem but bold and unaffected.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > I read it again.
> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Keep it up, George.
> > > > > > > > > > > > I still appreciate the poem.
> > > > > > > > > > > > I appreciate the poem too, for what it is, but appreciation doesn’t make it a quality piece of writing. It’s not.
> > > > > > > > > > > Okay, are you saying /something else/ makes this a quality piece of writing?
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > If so. what?
> > > > > > > > > > I’m saying it’s not excellent, or even particularly good writing. It is a worthwhile
> > > > > > > > > > read for a contemporary piece posted in a Usenet newsgroup in that it gives
> > > > > > > > > > some insight into the thinking of its author, but it is not of professional quality.
> > > > > > > > > > It would receive a passing grade in most second year college poetry classes.
> > > > > > > > > Okay, thanks.
> > > > > > > > No worries, happy to oblige.
> > > > > > > Good morning, "Go team."
> > > > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > > Yes, you’re welcome.
> > > > > Excellent, now go have a nice day, it's later than you think.
> > > > That must be directed at Robert Burrows also.
> > > No shit, Pastor Sherlock.
> > >
> >
> > Robert’s not here right now, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to address your apparent
> > hostility at his earliest opportunity, since it obviously has nothing to do with me.
> You're confused, I'm not at all hostile.
>
> HTH and HAND.

Zod wrote:

> On Monday, November 28, 2022 at 1:10:53 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> On 2022-11-26 4:01 p.m., Zod wrote:
>> > On Saturday, November 26, 2022 at 3:46:45 PM UTC-5, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:
>> >> On 2022-11-26 3:32 p.m., NancyGene wrote:
>> >>
>> >>> Where is Mount Father? Is that in Canada?
>> >> Thanks for the good catch, dear. I can't delete this, but I'll repost.
>> >
>> > That's pretty funny coming from NancyGene, who thinks London, home of John Dunne and Robert F. Stillings, is in Ireland... ha ha.
>>
>> What was even funnier, for me, was that just after announding the Yeats
>> exhibit in London, Ireland, Prof. NG suddenly took a month-long
>> "sabbatical" from the group. I spent a couple of amusing hours imagining
>> them roaming around Ireland looking for London. (Of course, not being a
>> troll, I never posted about it.)

> Ha ha ... you nailed it G.D....

Back on topic, yes he did.

🙂