|
....what other nation could perpetuate a hoax for so many centuries? Having just crawled out of their twig hovens, the idea ridiculous, that these Anglo Saxons, would do littlemore than pilliage and sack their neighbors of their meager belongings, standing, lifting up, above their heads, boasting cries of victory, as the decayed matter, dripped and oozed, down through the centuries, upon them. The closest thing to a bridge was when a defrocked priest, fell into a creek, and in a fateful lunge grabbed his staff that had wedged itself, as he fell, on opposing banks, and his bottle of ale as well. He gained some fame, later serving a famous bandit, who was so inept, he shot crooked arrows, until he married Lady Marion (some say a Prince name of Charles*, came from his seed. a secret until now, as well as I should now. On occasion, I hear he frequents forests, running down hapless creatures, the real legend of Robin Hood, truth be told, how could that seed be him?. Ask not I, I said such a tale, for this all I lie. What profit otherwise?, by lying, could I achieve, I'm not a politician, what honest person could be? Consider the famous London Bridge located just 50 miles or so, away from here, Needles, Ca. Its made out of styrofoam. When the British put it up for sale, it was merely a historic figment of their collective imagination, so when a hapless American fell into their national fantasized pride, they had to produce something.( His mum has opened to the public, I read, her version of my garden, which she financed by trading beer to our soldiers, during WWII, for cans of Spam. You have probably never heard of the British Bank of Spam, which should give you some idea of the constructions in that garden, she had to do something with the empty tins) Japanese tourists flock by bus to see what does not exist. Our Statue of Liberty isnt much better, its a hot air balloon. I apologize for introducing reality to your life experience. j.b. (In Barstow, Ca. is a base of Marines, another imagination, the green cloud over the desert of dirty socks and sweat is artificially produced. Should I continue, or have you had enough....) None of this is possible, of course, I'm not British, though my middle name is, which means "Lord Of The Sheep" and todate has only meant bad luck, I'm also not Jewish (thank you, thank you Lord). Sometime ago, I registered with www.Poem.org and attempted to, in their chat room, enter my URL before my participation, afterall I am a senior poet and the website URL has the word poet in it. I was accosted by a "Rearviewmirror", who twice blocked me from the room, without warning me of his action, this is Nazi. Then recently a David@poem.org implying he with that site management, sent a series of emails to me, one of which said my poetry should be thrown upon a bathroom wall. This following is my reply to Webmaster@poem.org. Title:David@poem.org/ "The vile punk, seeking an opportunity, he reeks of venom, to vandalize, an old poet, as if he were a statue./ Raising his anus, that reek, onto his fingers, on the keyboard, brain bypassed, his, the computer a tool./ His arrogance so silly, so banal, he wishes to be Lord./ But I, old poet, own all the words, he merely wishes, to attack, what he cannot have...intelligent purpose." Jerry Ewell Barta, Poet-Gardener (Age 62) |
|
 |
|
 |
|
