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Archive for December, 2011

         Cleon And I

Cleon hath a million acres, –
   Ne’er a one have I;
Cleon dwellth in a palace, –
   In a cottage, I.
Cleon hath a dozen fortunes, –
   Not a penny, I;
Yet the poorer of the twain is
   Cleon, and not I.

Cleon, true, possesseth acres, –
   But the landscape I;
Half the charms to me it yieldeth,
   Money cannot buy.
Cleon harbors sloth and dullness, –
   Freshening vigor I;
He in velvet, I in fustian,
   Richer man am I.

Cleon is a slave to grandeur, –
   Free as though am I;
Cleon fees a score of doctors,
   Need of none have I.
Wealth-surrounded, care-environed, –
   Cleon fears to die.
Death may come, he’ll find me ready, –
   Happier man am I.

Cleon sees no charm in nature, –
   In a daisy, I;
Cleon hears no anthem ringing
   In the sea and sky;
Nature sings to me forever, –
   Earnest listener I!
State for state, with all attendants,
   Who would change? Not I.

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Overrunning, Overriding Weather

When overrunning is the case
On winter weather’s sullen face,
The drizzle drips; cold skies are gray,
O’errides our spirits with dismay.

     When in the midst of overrunning
     Win o’er grim days with greater cunning;
     Turn on the light of inner sunning –    
     Not weather but the self is stunning.
 
     Thus, in the hold that’s overriding,
     Find inside a spark exciting;
     Look for inner joy abiding;
     Find your essence there residing.

When overrunning is the case,
On winter weather’s sullen face,
With wet, cold, drear slow to depart,
O’erride with what’s within your heart.

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* “Overrunning occurs when moist, warmer air is directed up and over a mass of colder air at the surface of the earth. The warm air cools as it rises, and its moisture condenses into precipitation-producing clouds.” (from weather.com) 
The result is often a long period of cold, drizzily, gray winter weather.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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An oak tree; a typical modern, terrestrial aut...

Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I’ll protect it now.
‘Twas my forefather’s hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand
Thy ax shall harm it not!

That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea,
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties!
Oh! spare that aged oak,
Now towering to the skies.

When but an idle boy
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here too my sisters played.

My mother kissed me here
My father pressed my hand –
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand!

My hart-strings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
And still thy branches bend.
Old tree, the storm still brave!
And, woodman, leave the spot!
While I’ve a hand to save,
Thy ax shall harm it not.

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High school students

Image via Wikipedia

Use Lockers!

Students’ books –
Good for their learning;
Bad for backs.
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Classroom Management Tool

A teacher
Just slightly cross-eyed –
Looks at me?

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Student Paradox

First bell – late;
Class ends; second bell –
Like rocket.

—————————–

Out…To…

Trouble when
One’s favorite class
Is the lunch.

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School Days

Many bells;
Even some dumbbells –
In weight room.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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Aivazovsky - Shipwreck

I many times thought peace had come,
When peace was far away;
As wrecked men deem they sight the land
At center of the sea,

And struggle slacker, but to prove,
As hopelessly as I,
How many the fictitious shores
Before the harbor lie.

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A set of beer bottles


The New Beer Drinking Song

99 bottles of beer on the wall;
99 bottles of beer.
You take one down
And pass it around –
98 bottles of beer on the wall.

98 bottles of beer on the wall;
98 bottles of beer.
You take one down
And pass it around –
97 bottles of beer on the wall.

And soon you will see no more beer on the wall;
And soon you will see no more beer.
It’s inside of you.
You’re going to spew.
It’s better to leave all the beer on the wall.

It’s better to leave all the beer on the wall;
It’s better to leave all the beer.
Your vision is blurred
And you are absurd
You should never start drinking the beer on the wall.

You should never start drinking the beer on the wall;
You should never start drinking the beer.
You’ll get the dt’s
And shake in the knees
When you start seeing weird things on the wall.

When you start seeing weird things on the wall;
When you start seeing weird things;
Your liver is shot
Little time have you got
And you’ll soon see nothing at all any more.

So, don’t ever start drinking the beer on the wall;
Don’t ever start drinking the beer;
It’s a slippery slope
That’ll give you no hope
Just never start drinking the beer on the wall.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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We are not always glad when we smile:
 Though we wear a fair face and are gay,
   And the world we deceive
   May not ever believe
 We could laugh in a happier way. –
Yet, down in the deeps of the soul,
 Oftentimes, with our faces aglow,
   There’s an ache and a moan
   That we know of alone,
 And as only the hopeless may know.

We are not always glad when we smile, –
 For the heart, in a tempest of pain,
   May live in the guise
   Of a smile in the eyes
 As a ranbow may live in the rain;
And the stormiest night of our woe
 May hang out a radiant star
   Whose light in the sky
   Of despair is a lie
 As black as the thunder-clouds are.

We are not always glad when we smile!-
 But the conscience is quick to record,
   All the sorrow and sin
   We are hiding within
 Is plain in the sight of the Lord:
 And ever, O ever, till pride
   And evasion shall cease to defile
   The sacred recess
   Of the end, we confess
 We are not always glad when we smile.

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The Earth seen from Apollo 17.

Image via Wikipedia

 

 

The Earth

One of nine;
Living blue planet –
Home, sweet home.

* Or, one of eight or one of seven.

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Speeding Along

Jet contrails,
Silver flash in front –
Earth’s comet.

————————

Sunrise

Ev’ry day
Same silly sun game –
Peek-a-boo.

————————

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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To increase the genetic diversity of U.S. corn...


Jim Crack Corn
(or, The Blue Tail Fly)

When I was young I us’d to wait
On Massa and hand him de plate;
Pass down de bottle when he git dry,
And bresh away de blue tail fly.

Chorus:
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Ole Massa gone away.

Den arter dinner massa sleep,
He bid dis niggar vigil keep;
An’ when he gwine to shut his eye,
He tell me watch de blue tail fly.

Chorus

An’ when he ride in de arternoon,
I foller wid a hickory broom;
De poney being berry shy,
When bitten by de blue tail fly.

Chorus

One day he rode aroun’ de farm,
De flies so numerous dey did swarm;
One chance to bite ‘im on the thigh,
De debble take dat blue tail fly.

Chorus

Dey laid ‘im under a ‘simmon tree,
His epitaph am dar to see:
‘Beneath dis stone I’m forced to lie,
All by de means ob de blue tail fly.

Chorus

Ole massa gone, now let ‘im rest,
Dey say all tings am for de best;
I nebber forget till de day I die,
Ole massa an’ dat blue tail fly.

Chorus:
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Ole Massa gone away.

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Link to Burl Ives singing the song (2:16):

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English: Photo of a stone fireplace.

             Remembering You

 (sent in Christmas cards in 2008)

These are days when eyesight sinks
Through fireplace flames to find
Bright visions flickering from the past
Like coals, to warm the mind.

Love wraps the presents and the hearts.
It links today with friends
And draws them near, though far away
‘Cross miles and years and winds.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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