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Oh Stan I'm beaming after reading that. Excellent! Thank you. To: ACT_for_the_Public Sent: Saturday, 7 January 2012 5:34 PM Subject: ACT Poetry

Hi,

I've enjoyed a few poems in this forum lately and thought I'd give it a go myself.

Since Shakespeare is the writer who amazes me the most and gives me the greatest highs and the biggest goose bumps, I thought I'd have a go at writing a sonnet using the rhyming scheme he was familiar with.

For what it's worth, here it is.

MY BUS

My bus is small and rusty, but it's mine.

The passengers are noisy, every one,

They scream out destinations, but that's fine.

They're loud and I ignore them, and it's fun.

My bus is small and rusty, but it's good.

It's viscious and a lot of times obscene,

Depending on their attitude, their mood.

It's just the way my world is, how it's always been.

It's my bus, my home, and I live in it.

My passengers may hate the road I take

And rant and rave and growl and call me shit

And curse me for the choices that I make,

But I ignore them and it turns out fine.

My bus is small and rusty, and it's mine.

Cheers,

Stan

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Very nice, Stan!Bruce Hi, I've enjoyed a few poems in this forum lately and thought I'd give it a go myself. Since Shakespeare is the writer who amazes me the most and gives me the greatest highs and the biggest goose bumps, I thought I'd have a go at writing a sonnet using the rhyming scheme he was familiar with. For what it's worth, here it is. MY BUS My bus is small and rusty, but it's mine. The passengers are noisy, every one, They scream out destinations, but that's fine. They're loud and I ignore them, and it's fun. My bus is small and rusty, but it's good. It's viscious and a lot of times obscene, Depending on their attitude, their mood. It's just the way my world is, how it's always been. It's my bus, my home, and I live in it. My passengers may hate the road I take And rant and rave and growl and call me shit And curse me for the choices that I make, But I ignore them and it turns out fine. My bus is small and rusty, and it's mine. Cheers, Stan

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Hi,

After rereading my alcohol-fueled attempt at writing a sonnet the next morning,

I wasn't happy with it. So, for what it's worth, here's my attempt at reworking

it:

MY BUS

My bus is old and rusty, past its prime.

The engine's shot, the paint is frayed and grey,

The seats are torn, the musty air's a crime,

And steering it's a bugger, every day.

My passengers all hate the roads I take

And tell me where to go. Go here, go there,

Go where we want you to, play safe, don't slake

Your thirst, don't dare, don't go to God knows where.

A raucous, entertaining bunch, they bark

But never bite. They have no teeth, their hands

Are weak and useless, their only weapons snark

And fear of unknown byways, unknown lands.

My bus is old and rusty, but it's mine.

It gets me where I want to go just fine.

I had a blast writing it. Be warned though, I think I'm on a roll here, so there

could be more ACT-based doggerel to come!

Cheers,

Stan

>

> Hi,

> I've enjoyed a few poems in this forum lately and thought I'd give it a go

myself.

>

> Since Shakespeare is the writer who amazes me the most and gives me the

greatest highs and the biggest goose bumps, I thought I'd have a go at writing a

sonnet using the rhyming scheme he was familiar with.

>

> For what it's worth, here it is.

>

> MY BUS

>

> My bus is small and rusty, but it's mine.

> The passengers are noisy, every one,

> They scream out destinations, but that's fine.

> They're loud and I ignore them, and it's fun.

> My bus is small and rusty, but it's good.

> It's viscious and a lot of times obscene,

> Depending on their attitude, their mood.

> It's just the way my world is, how it's always been.

> It's my bus, my home, and I live in it.

> My passengers may hate the road I take

> And rant and rave and growl and call me shit

> And curse me for the choices that I make,

> But I ignore them and it turns out fine.

> My bus is small and rusty, and it's mine.

>

> Cheers,

> Stan

>

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If positive affirmations are not act based why do its authors look and soind so positive?

Sent from Yahoo!7 Mail on Android

From:

Stan ;

To:

<ACT_for_the_Public >;

Subject:

Re: ACT Poetry

Sent:

Mon, Jan 9, 2012 6:04:03 AM

Hi,

After rereading my alcohol-fueled attempt at writing a sonnet the next morning, I wasn't happy with it. So, for what it's worth, here's my attempt at reworking it:

MY BUS

My bus is old and rusty, past its prime.

The engine's shot, the paint is frayed and grey,

The seats are torn, the musty air's a crime,

And steering it's a bugger, every day.

My passengers all hate the roads I take

And tell me where to go. Go here, go there,

Go where we want you to, play safe, don't slake

Your thirst, don't dare, don't go to God knows where.

A raucous, entertaining bunch, they bark

But never bite. They have no teeth, their hands

Are weak and useless, their only weapons snark

And fear of unknown byways, unknown lands.

My bus is old and rusty, but it's mine.

It gets me where I want to go just fine.

I had a blast writing it. Be warned though, I think I'm on a roll here, so there could be more ACT-based doggerel to come!

Cheers,

Stan

>

> Hi,

> I've enjoyed a few poems in this forum lately and thought I'd give it a go myself.

>

> Since Shakespeare is the writer who amazes me the most and gives me the greatest highs and the biggest goose bumps, I thought I'd have a go at writing a sonnet using the rhyming scheme he was familiar with.

>

> For what it's worth, here it is.

>

> MY BUS

>

> My bus is small and rusty, but it's mine.

> The passengers are noisy, every one,

> They scream out destinations, but that's fine.

> They're loud and I ignore them, and it's fun.

> My bus is small and rusty, but it's good.

> It's viscious and a lot of times obscene,

> Depending on their attitude, their mood.

> It's just the way my world is, how it's always been.

> It's my bus, my home, and I live in it.

> My passengers may hate the road I take

> And rant and rave and growl and call me shit

> And curse me for the choices that I make,

> But I ignore them and it turns out fine.

> My bus is small and rusty, and it's mine.

>

> Cheers,

> Stan

>

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Much improved, Stan! Sometimes the ideas hit us when we are a bit impaired (and don't they always so look damn good while in that state, only to make us cringe the next day!), but require polishing later ...

Helena

To: "ACT for the Public" <ACT_for_the_Public >Sent: Monday, January 9, 2012 1:04:03 AMSubject: Re: ACT Poetry

Hi,After rereading my alcohol-fueled attempt at writing a sonnet the next morning, I wasn't happy with it. So, for what it's worth, here's my attempt at reworking it:MY BUSMy bus is old and rusty, past its prime.The engine's shot, the paint is frayed and grey,The seats are torn, the musty air's a crime,And steering it's a bugger, every day.My passengers all hate the roads I takeAnd tell me where to go. Go here, go there,Go where we want you to, play safe, don't slakeYour thirst, don't dare, don't go to God knows where.A raucous, entertaining bunch, they barkBut never bite. They have no teeth, their handsAre weak and useless, their only weapons snark And fear of unknown byways, unknown lands.My bus is old and rusty, but it's mine.It gets me where I want to go just fine.I had a blast writing it. Be warned though, I think I'm on a roll here, so there could be more ACT-based doggerel to come!Cheers,Stan>> Hi,> I've enjoyed a few poems in this forum lately and thought I'd give it a go myself.> > Since Shakespeare is the writer who amazes me the most and gives me the greatest highs and the biggest goose bumps, I thought I'd have a go at writing a sonnet using the rhyming scheme he was familiar with.> > For what it's worth, here it is.> > MY BUS> > My bus is small and rusty, but it's mine.> The passengers are noisy, every one,> They scream out destinations, but that's fine.> They're loud and I ignore them, and it's fun.> My bus is small and rusty, but it's good.> It's viscious and a lot of times obscene,> Depending on their attitude, their mood.> It's just the way my world is, how it's always been.> It's my bus, my home, and I live in it.> My passengers may hate the road I take> And rant and rave and growl and call me shit> And curse me for the choices that I make,> But I ignore them and it turns out fine.> My bus is small and rusty, and it's mine.> > Cheers,> Stan>

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