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Casch

The Poetry Thread

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I am one of 13 children in our family. I had eight brothers and four sisters, and this is a poem of how each brother view the others. I wrote it about 20 years ago.

Down in old Long Branch we had a big house,
I had brothers and sisters galore,
With a dog and a cat, and even a mouse
And rabbits and squirrels by the score.
With plenty of neighbours who all knew us well,
From Sharon right up to Syd,
The neighbours all knew that my brothers were brats,
But I was a wonderful kid.


My Mom and my Dad were a very good pair
With a baker's dozen to feed.
They had plenty of love and plenty of care
And always plenty of need.
While most of the family was going to school,
Some went to work,like Ed,
The rest of my brothers were nothing but brats,
But I was a damn good kid.


The Hicks, and the Hacks, and the Butterworths too,
Knew that the Cole boys were bad.
And many's the time they threatened to tell
The police or their Mom or their Dad.
Explosions and fighting were part of their day,
I could hardly believe what they did,
The world knew my brothers were ignorant brats,
But I was a lovely kid.


To educate boys with the mind of a duck
Was a challenge to teachers in school.
To get decent marks was a matter of luck
Cause they acted more like a fool.
If marks could be bought at an auction back then
It is doubtful my brothers would bid,
The big saving grace was the teachers all knew
That I was a fabulous kid.


The Long Branch Police made consecutive calls
At the old house on Lake Promenade
To find out the truth to the rumours they'd heard,
That all of the Cole boys were bad,
The sulfur,saltpeter and charcoal they mixed
And blew it all up with a squib,
The Police proved my brothers were nohing but brats,
And that I was a damn good kid.


They shot all the songbirds with slingshot and bow
Cause those were the weapons they had,
But soon they got rifles and bullets to waste
And that wasnt pleasing to Dad,
But those were the days when the Cole boys were young
And few people cared what they did.
No one was concerned that my brothers were brats,
They knew I was a lovely kid.


To listen to stories of things that were done
Would cause you to raise a big doubt,
Cause stories get twisted, one by one,
But eventually truth comes out.
None of my brothers were really to blame,
So what do you think of that?
You see, all of my brothers were really good guys,
But I was a bloody brat.



Bill Cole D-41:ph34r::D




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Every day I think about the way things could be. I
sit and wonder if there could be a you and me. The few times I've been close to you I couldn't tell if you felt the way I did. I haven't heard from you all month, I miss you. Others make it look easy, finding someone to love. I can't help but envy. You're all I can think about, been that way since day one. Every year you're my birthday wish, my hope, my dream, the only one I love. Do you love me? Because I love you. More than anything or anyone I've ever known. How can I tell you, these feelings so personal. The thoughts and visions in my head, last night I dreampt you had said, I love you. I have this vision in my mind, hiking to the top of parrot mountain. Climbing to the top of the fire-tower. I show you the world from atop the tower, then I look into your eyes, into MY world, and place the most passionate kiss upon your lips so sweet, and tender. I awoke and knew I needed you in my life. When you're ready I will be here, waiting for you. Waiting for us.

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Quote

I liked it, thanks..

I felt like writing today.. here goes



I felt the wind kiss me on the lips
as you walked away from me last night
The snow that crunched under my feet as I moved
made me think of myself

Thoughts of your warm skin on mine
like an electric blanket
contrast the dark chill of my
michigan winters night

All the time that judges the world
is not what tells me what is right
all the world that shadows my life
is outside of how I feel for you

I felt the wind kiss my lips tonight
just after I kissed you


yea.. maybe better next time


I travel the land, Work in the ocean, Play in the sky

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I have no idea who wrote this poem, but it a good one.


A pretty Good poem

There once was a pretty good student
Who sat in a pretty good class
And was taught by a pretty good teacher
Who always let pretty good pass,
He wasnt terrific at reading
He wasnt a whiz-bang at math,
But for him education was leading
Straight down a pretty good path.
He didnt find school too exciting
But he wanted to do pretty well,
And he did have some trouble with writing
And nobody taught him to spell
When doing arithmetic problems
Pretty good was regarded as fine,
Five plus five didnt always add up to ten,
A pretty good answer was nine.
The pretty good class that he sat in
Was part of a pretty good school,
And the student was not the exception,
On the contrary, he was the rule
The pretty good school that he went to
Was part of a pretty good town
And nobody there seemed to notice
He could not tell a verb from a noun.
The pretty good student in fact was
Part of a pretty good mob,
And the first time he knew what he lacked was
When he looked for a pretty good job.
It was then when he sought a position
He discovered that life could be tough
And he soon had a sneaky suspicion
Pretty good might not be good enough.
The pretty good town in our story
Was part of a pretty good State
Which had pretty good aspirations
And prayed for a pretty good fate.
There once was a pretty good nation
Pretty proud of the greatness it had,
Which learned much to late
If you want to be great
Pretty good is in fact pretty bad.

:D:D:D




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I just wrote this, thought I would share it

Don't give yourself away
Love is a pain, you put yourself on the line.
You give yourself away without wondering why.
Everything you are, you get back in time.
It hurts for a while, It hurts for a while.

(but) You live and learn, you learn your lesson well.
Don't give yourself away, don't give yourself away.
Time won't heal all but it will help you forget,
the pain that you felt, the tears that you wept.
When it's said and done, and the pain fades away,
You should remember the good, the wonderful days.
Next time you're in love, remember this line,
Don't give yourself away, don't give yourself away.

When you find someone to love, here's what you do;
Give directions to your heart, they can go if they want to.
You should always be whole, so don't give any away,
Until you know without a doubt, she is there to stay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Always live like you're not afraid to die,
Always love like you've never lost.

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Here is a couple of poems for those who want to know what skydiving isreally like;

2004

Punching A Hole In The Sky

What a wonderful sport I find myself in,
It takes place where the thunderbolts fly,
Where rainbows are bent after summer's rain
And to do good, you just have to try.
Looking down on the earth and the fields of green
There's no need to be wimpish or shy,
Its a place you can go, and fly without wings,
As you just punch a hole in the sky.

It must seem so strange as you look up above
And behold what is seen with the eye,
The clear blue of heaven that's over your head
As the fluffy white clouds go by.
And soon you are flying like a bird on the wing
And you plummet toward earth from on high,
Your parachute opens and you realize
That you've just punched a hole in the sky.

In all of the things you are able to do
There is no greater thrill you can buy,
So wonderful, and so exciting it is,
It can bring tears of joy to your eye.
With other skydivers the pleasures you share,
For each of you learned how to fly,
A wonderful landing, you're back on the earth,
But you just punched a hole in the sky.

There are many who cling to the earth like a claw,
They're the people who never ask why,
They'll never know that the reason birds sing
Is because they are able to fly.
They could not understand how a skydiver feels
If you told them till rivers run dry,
And the greatest of pleasures a skydiver knows,
Is punching a hole in the sky.

The day is soon over, you stare at the fire,
But memories linger and sigh,
The crimson red sunset that hovers above
Casts a glow on companions nearby.
You fill out your logbook with each thrilling move
As the shadows of dark seem to tie
Themselves to each other, and you smile as you know
That you just punched a hole in the sky.

--------------------------------------------------


On August 6th 2007, I made my final jump at the dropzone in Steinbach, Manitoba, , exactly 45 years and 1 day after making my first jump. I jumped a Para-Sled canopy that I bought new in 1972, but is now owned by a jumper in Winnipeg, Manitoba.
------------------------------------------------------
My Jumping Is Over

My jumping is over, satisfaction is mine
There's been many a flight in the blue.
My body is sore from the great crash and burns
And I sure wouldn't wish that on you.
With bones slowly healing, I reach for the pills
That will help take the pain for awhile.
It sure has been great, but the memories I have,
Will cause me to flinch and to smile.


The times when I dove from the aircraft above
Are the times that I miss most of all,
The flight of a friend as he thrusts like a jet
And careens to my beckoning call.
Our hands touch together, the contact is made
There is no place on earth quite the same,
No place for malfunctions, no place for regrets
Cause this sport is the world's greatest game.


This sport is the reason, it makes me alive
In a world that can sometimes bring pain,
And I fondly look back at my days in the sky
And I'd do it all over again.
The shadows are longer as I think of those days
When I owned the whole sky up above,
When I flew like an eagle, far above fields of green
And performed in the sport that I love.


Like a bird without feathers, and fear wasn't there,
Cause flying was a thing that I owned.
Ability grew and it didn't take long,
Like and edge it was soon finely honed.
When your airplane takes off in the soft morning mist
As it cuts through the sweet smelling clover,
You can know I've been there, I was part of the sky
But my skydiving career is now over.

Bill Cole D-41 Canada




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Dreaming of the embrace of the big blue

Here I come up in our chariot

My white wings hand packed

Eyes on you

Here I come up to kiss your hue

To taste your clouds and pass right through

My feet free of the ground

Hands cupping the spirit

Eyes on the horizon

As time flies in reverse

at 5 i must go for at one it will be too late.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FsIgoCs_0k&feature=related
Life through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds is necessary to ensure happiness and to keep chaos at bay.

The only thing that falls from the sky is birdshit and fools!

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