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Poem with probability = 0.999999When I was a Kid it was Fun
Anytime that I carried a Gun.
It was fantasy-Crazy....
I had my own Daisy.
All my best "toting" friends
Each had one.
The Mossberg that Santa brought,
The lessons my Father taught,
I still hold those gifts in my Heart.
But how could I see
How insane life could Be
What "Used to be Fun" could impart?
My Grandfather's Double
Still hangs on the Wall.
We have nothing but Trouble
Over "nothing at all".
Our Leaders insane
Over issues inane
While we fret that the Nation might Fall.
With Leadership meager,
(We just lost Pete Seeger).
With Congressional Elves
Who "serve" mainly themselves,
With LaPierre as The One
Who is still the Top Gun,
He may be a Dope,
But that gives us no Hope
And my Daisey is no longer "Fun".
It used to be "Sunny",
Life was Not All about Money,
Not all about Somebody's Gun.
Poem with probability = 0.999699
I LEARNED THIS HYMN WHEN PETE SANG IT, GIVING IT NEW DIMENSIONS. Sing on.
While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?
When tyrants tremble in their fear
And hear their death knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?
Poem with probability = 0.998658
In football lore I won't immerse,
To concussions I am averse,
E'er the Sun is setting
I will not be betting
On Superbowls, closing my verse.
Poem with probability = 0.998253
Does decriminalization count?
Will the taxes collected soon mount?
No more mob controlled selling
In some abandoned dwelling,
Are these gains so easy to discount?
Poem with probability = 0.998065
Come on you want something better?
From privatization unfetter!
Single payer's the way,
Less cost any day,
And you'll never be a regretter!
Poem with probability = 0.997521
Dear Pete,
it’s hard to speak, so hard to say
hard to believe: you’ve passed away!
I’ve always thought you’d live forever and a song!
And now – twas only 94 years long.
Not long enough! The living say
They’d never let you go away!
Alas! You left. And teardrops fill my eye
It’s FAREWELL now and not GOODBYE.
Well, if there’s one thing that might help to ease the pain
To see you and your lifelong love are reunited now again
May others praise you now for all the things you’ve done
The words and songs remain! Alas, the man has gone!
A bitter truth it is that even our most beloved ones’ lives must end!
So farewell Pete, and THANKS FOR ALL – I’m proud to say you were my friend.
R.I.P. Pete - my thoughts are with the family
Poem with probability = 0.995992
Ma chère Valérie,
You must excuse me,
For my scooting around,
To a different arrond,
To visit my dear Julie.
(now properly on topic)
Poem with probability = 0.995385
So Tom Perkins's bitchin',
Stems from the soup kitchen,
'Cause poorly fed masses,
Amuse the upper classes.
Oh, the nonsense they're pitchin'.
Poem with probability = 0.991975
Remember when the music
Came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire
And as we sang the words, it would set our minds on fire,
For we believed in things, and so we'd sing.
Oh all the times I've listened, and all the times I've heard
All the melodies I'm missing, and all the magic words,
And all those potent voices, and the choices we had then,
How I'd love to find we had that kind of choice again.
And I feel that something's coming, and it's not just in the wind.
It's more than just tomorrow, it's more than where we've been,
It offers me a promise, it's telling me "Begin",
I know we're needing something worth believing in.
Remember when the music
Came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire
And as we sang the words, it would set our minds on fire,
For we believed in things, and so we'd sing.
verses from the song "Remember When the Music"
by Harry Chapin with Pete Seeger in mind
Poem with probability = 0.988546
from Shelley's Adonis....
He is made one with Nature: there is heard
His voice in all her music, from the moan
Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;
He is a presence to be felt and known
In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,
Spreading itself where'er that Power may move
Which has withdrawn his being to its own;
Which wields the world with never-wearied love,
Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Poem with probability = 0.987954
I'm not a "Wisenberg"
Just an admirer of Eisenberg,
And grateful to have you each day.
With my Morning Tea,
It's a Gift to me
To always enjoy what you Say.
Poem with probability = 0.984696
Goosey, goosey gander
Why do Repubs pander?
Bigotry, racism,
Eschew silk & lacism.
Plutocrats, aristocrats,
Portly gentlemen in spats,
Notions old as Noah's ark,
Kowtow to the Oligarch!
Poem with probability = 0.979286
litter picker
only job in new york 1938
trash patrol at the worlds fair
pete and toshi out on a date
to clean up the world - a dream they shared
he sang a thousand songs
folk sing along never a quitter
if ever they’d have a festival
top job - would be collector of litter
we watched him unobserved
as he waited to go on stage
he picked up the refuse on the floor
and then wondered why we called him sage
Poem with probability = 0.974905
The wealthy have both seen and heard
The threats to their fortunes absurd
Advocates of the less fortunate group
Who don't work, drink beer and eat soup
Have their vision by progressives been blurred.
Poem with probability = 0.970011
Zeus, of thunderbolt and sky
Causes mortals in general to sigh;
Yet Obama, our god of plenty,
And frustrated desires that end empty,
Causes all of us merely to cry.
... Unless humor is absurdist and dry.
Poem with probability = 0.968028
To my old brown earth
And to my old blue sky
I'll now give these last few molecules of "I."
And you who sing,
And you who stand nearby,
I do charge you not to cry.
Guard well our human chain,
Watch well you keep it strong,
As long as sun will shine.
And this our home,
Keep pure and sweet and green,
For now I'm yours
And you are also mine.
Poem with probability = 0.961411
It's now time, Barack, so go to,
Appeasing Repubs is now through,
To real progress aspire
Put their feet to the fire,
Executive orders go through!
Poem with probability = 0.927975
HAL, I'm interested in your tacos. Mine break into dozens of bits.
Hamburgers? Sloppy Joes? Martin, it's a stretch.
Discussion of sandwichity
Makes me go all twitchity.
Accepting in-clue-civity
Requires elasticity.
Poem with probability = 0.918326
Here's a song I learned a long time ago:
To My Old Brown Earth by Pete Seeger
To my old brown Earth
And to my old blue sky
I'll now give these last few molecules of I
And you who sing
And you who stand near by
I do charge you not to cry
Guard well our human chain
Watch well you keep it strong
As long as sun will shine
And this our home
Keep pure and sweet and green
For now I'm yours
And you are also mine
Poem with probability = 0.901819
PETE
I knew I’d cry the day Pete Seeger died.
His song is done -- and true -- he didn’t sing
so much these days. And sure, I realize
the times have changed: The Union’s not the thing
it was, back when Pete sang those Union songs.
This Land may still be yours, may still be mine,
but we’re not sure it’s going to be, for long.
Another Fool: waist-deep another time;
It’s hard, believing we shall overcome.
Big Muddy’s got us, but we still push on.
I bet ol’ Pete -- before he was struck dumb --
was asking, “Where have all the flowers gone?”
No need to cry because ol’ Pete is dead:
Let’s cry because his dream has died, instead.
Jerome Norris
___________
Poem with probability = 0.899712
I/we loved him dearly.
He made us better.
May he rest in Peace.
Thank you Pete Seeger.
Poem with probability = 0.897542
When I was a young man
I was struck dumb by being.
It shattered my notions
but I sought it out as often as I might.
And I searched for words
within and one step away
and across time,
but found none.
Now I am old
and share conversation and thoughts
mostly only with children.
They have words, new and fresh,
and wonder that what is is
and are amused by silly.
Poem with probability = 0.893659
"Immigration Reform":
Democrat big shots; cheap votes: win.
Republican big shots; cheap labor: win.
American workers: lose.
Again.
Poem with probability = 0.881129
This live Roach infestation state,
Yet Foster won't self regulate,
Corporations deny
Their eye's on the Pie,
Damn bugs long as profits are great!
Poem with probability = 0.847788
Sometimes I live in the country
Sometimes I live in town
Sometimes I have a great notion
To jump in the river and drown
RIP Pete
Poem with probability = 0.822817
No super bowl betting by me,
Neither team has my sympathy,
For Baseball I'm yearning
The Season is turning,
Pitchers & Catchers? Ecstasy!
Poem with probability = 0.822473
"Blessed Yankees have an ally
When this feline comes to bat
Bringing joy to old Manhattan
All watch the skies for Morph The Cat."
Donald Fagen
Poem with probability = 0.727314
In that vein, I thought a Sondheim - Macklemore mash-up would fit the spirit of the classic-and-pop pairings.
Tune of SORRY-GRATEFUL (for Macklemore’s apology tour)
I’m really sorry, I’m really hateful
I meant that thing that I tweeted out
I’m filled with doubt
But still I’m sorry, and still I’m hateful;
I pointed out I thought he was robbed
Or so I sobbed
Hear that I’m speaking with remorse
Take my crying with some salt, of course
I’m sorry-hateful, and yet I’m happy
I never dreamed this could take me far
I won the prize, I’m a real big star
Which had nothing to do with
All of this P.R.
Nothing to do with
“Poor” Mr. Lamar
Poem with probability = 0.683478
Lyrics to Or Else! (One-A These Days) :
(Pete Seeger, David Bernz and A.N. Onymous. Music by Pete Seeger)
[Chorus:]
One-a these days (ONE-A THESE DAYS)
One-a these days (ONE-A THESE DAYS)
One-a these days, one-a these days
OR ELSE!
Our school will get the money it needs for smaller classes,
And the Navy will hold a bake sale to build a battleship.
[Chorus]
And Johnny will get the money he needs for that operation,
And the Air Force will hold a raffle to buy a bomber.
[Chorus]
And every vote will be counted in every election,
And the winners will always keep all of their promises.
[Chorus]
And around the world we'll learn each other's languages
And the very first thing we'll learn is how to listen.
(spoken) "Who knows the word for 'hello' in some other language?"
(spoken responses of "hello" in several languages)
[Chorus]
God only knows what the future will be
God only knows what the future will be
But God gave us brains
He meant us to use 'em
RIP Pete Seeger
Poem with probability = 0.652466
Farewell, sweet troubadour
Farewell, Dear Pete
You've shown the world
The power of song
We'll hear you in our dreams!
Poem with probability = 0.619426
"inch by inch
row by row
i'm gonna make this garden grow."
--pete seeger
Poem with probability = 0.567348
Ever since the advent of this story
I have been incredulous. Not that
agencies would do this, but have
the wherewithal to process the data.
I can barely keep up with my own.
And they can do that with
mega billions of people over
millions of days. Why am I
not worried someone's reading my mail?!
Poem with probability = 0.443452
peaceseeker
quantanamara wimoweh
we shall overcome someday
my dirty river little boxes movin' on
so long it’s been good to know you
where have all the flowers gone
goodnight irene john henry
deliah and old joe clark
performers parking lot
clearwater after dark
(written in 2010)
Poem with probability = 0.408427
Preparation is the problem for AO. After year-end tournament
in mid November there are no tournaments till AO except
few minor ones in early January where one top player shows up.
Djokovic didn't play any tournament after his year-end
triumph. He probably wasn't match tough.
It will be better if AO is scheduled in October or February.
It will be better for tennis if other players emerge to challenge
the top four. Wawrinka has a game to do it and his new found
confidence. Del Potro, Nishikori,Dimitrov, Raonic could emerge
as genuine contender for Grand Slam. It will become like golf-a
new champion emerging and the "names" finishing lower.
Poem with probability = 0.352843
The passing of a true American icon.
It took 94 yrs to extinguish his life.
His spirit will live on forever
Thank you Pete Seeger
Poem with probability = 0.308575
It has been sufficiently proven, that the monitoring
of personal private data, through the NSA and the
British, is a blatant violation, of the private, personal
sphere of a person, and does not necessarily
contributes, to avoiding or suppressing a terrorist
act.
These illegal measures, were in place, before the
Boston Marathon terrorist strike took place, and
the responsible authorities, the FBI, and especially
NSA, failed poorly indeed.
The former Soviet Union, and now North Korea
and China, implement the same monitoring and
measures, which are not more and not less,
than naked Police State Tactics.!!
Poem with probability = 0.286408
I have a great comment.
whoops! I forgot...
Poem with probability = 0.284574
(To the tune of "Joe Hill")
I dreamed I saw Pete Seeger last night, singing out a song,
And picking on his banjo,
He said "Come on, sing along,
Now come on, sing along.
He sang about a hammer, and he sang of how time turns,
He asked where all the flowers went,
And asked when will they learn?
Pete asked "When will they learn"?
He sang about some soldiers slogging waist-deep through the mud,
He sang to try to tell us that
It's time to stop the blood,
It's time to stop the blood.
Then Pete said "It's been fun, but now it's time, I've got to go.
I'm booked to do a singing gig
With Woody and with Joe,
With Woody and with Joe."
Well, Pete's now gone forever but his songs are here to stay,
They'll carry on his dream to build
A better world someday,
A better world someday.
Poem with probability = 0.247705
"Scientific", "American" - Good.
"Questions", "Concerns" - Bad.
Poem with probability = 0.235581
As surely as apples produce apples and figs produce figs
in Nature like produces like.
War produces more war and peace produces more peace.
Pete waged peace wherever he went, producing more peace.
If I had a hammer
Where have all the flowers gone
We shall overcome
- just some of his weapons of peace
- All show the touch of Pete's hand, voice, and heart
Surely Pete and his banjo machine surrounded hate and forced its surrender.
Pete's banjo - weapon of peace.
By their fruits ye shall know them.
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