The Left Column

Politics for Poets

Monday with the cold wind coming!

🍀. What more could we want then luck? Hard work helps. Persistence. Purpose. A sense that things get better if we place truth in the thoughts of them. The expectation of communal and unspoken correct society.

🍀heart (where is the heart)

🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠 🎠

🔫 🚀 🚙🚤🚣🔨🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰

If I replace a
 heart
     for a heart
 will it 
  pull the world
      apart?

   If I put a
       different
        care there
   is that as
     cute as a
       caring bear?

  If I take a sip
     of a nice cold beer
   will I blow away the
        frouth of fear?
       sticky foam all in 
                 my beard?

If I replace a
       heart for a heart?
   are they ever really 
      equivalent?
  He gets caught up
  in the transition to
     better life
  and worries
      about those at the stop
   that came too late 
      for the 11:12 bus?
    
     Isn't there another bus
       at 1:22?

    It's not just
      being on the bus
   it's being on the right bus
    and getting off
        when you get to your 
            destination
        and getting where
      you need to get to go.

   He could swap the coins, the
       stamps, the
  paintings in their frames
      his friends for
   Wellesley saturday dog park
           walks in the rain
       and a mudroom with 
      a brand new sliding glass door,
       all of it ordered with
     emogi names in unicode.

  And the new motocycle.
     And the new Boat, all of it
         in symbols.

  If you swap the hearts,
   if you wrote those automatic poems,
 popping up in the evil clown glass mirror
      of time for the tyrants of thought
  and their probes of silver mind.

 He pops awake. 
    How far off could it be to be just that,
   the chuckles inserted
      into the script
 they didn't make ssense.
 Wasn't it all just him?
  wasn't he the one who was really moving his fingers.

Can't he close his eyes now and drift off to
          memories of you
 as if you would want to see him
    to dwell down in some fear, 
 the hurts and pains imagined just
    not getting through on the station
  bringing his hearts, that he replaced
    back to the heart factory and
    asking for a replacement they
would lead him through those doors
   and tell him that they know
   that there is . . . 

  hold it.
    hold on.
  the Internaught has decided to filter
       ouff into the hinteroo
   the furtherance of
       this nonsense poem
   Cause I can just tell you how
    it was going to end.
 He was about to enter through
     the doors of the glass factory
 and see the world through the 
       shimmering light
   He was about to take a
     bit of time off his life
   and check out of the greenhouse
         loose himself along
    the almond-colored sands of
          lost reason
 in the used-book-store basements
      of teh long lost causes,
 throw away jingo politics
    manuals for hate
    via the 
    cause of the the day
           and all the friends
  of the republic or
   what ever jingos current
 for the things that they are now.

  He nods his head forward.

  If I had known
   If I could ever have known
  If there weren't any thother
    no other,
        not a brother,
  he might have taken that 
            other highway
    and gone off long on
             one of the secret exits
     that only show up if your
              rig is so equiped
       and the guidance systems
        lead the vehicle to it's safe
                  place.

  Lonely within the giant preserve to the past
           mistakes of cupidity of province
  at the central legislative house
     he blesses his happy scionship
   to be the king of the here-it-is-for-me
   and to act the part, Lord Hamlet.
      Othelo
    Lord of the Rings?

 He thinks about it?
  Where am I going with this?
 Where is anyone really going?
 How has this devolved to this?
  Why is this a poem?
  when did it stop being that?

 The poet stops to think
     and types out another
       stanza ish ranticule
     and contemplates 
  delete.

 Contemplates delete.
  
    Automatic poems?
     it's not automatic,
 I have to push the key for
   everyletter.

  And with emogeis 🚀 inserted?
 I have to copy and paste them in
     I have no key for them.
     🚙    🎭

⏰ Times up for this poem! ⏰

This is not a brick and morter, but we do have brick.

🚀⏲
🔫 🚀 🚙🚤🚣🔨🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰

fun with brace expansion

"Why don't we BASH 🚀 for a while?"

the parenthesis are necessary here because the whole thing is created and then formated. Note that a space is added between each expanded element.

 (echo -e {🌃,🌄,🌅}{🌍,🌎,🌏}{🌑,🌒,🌓,🌔,🌕,🌖,🌗,🌘,🌙,🌚}" " ) |fmt -w  55
🌃🌍🌑  🌃🌍🌒  🌃🌍🌓  🌃🌍🌔
🌃🌍🌕  🌃🌍🌖  🌃🌍🌗  🌃🌍🌘
🌃🌍🌙  🌃🌍🌚  🌃🌎🌑  🌃🌎🌒
🌃🌎🌓  🌃🌎🌔  🌃🌎🌕  🌃🌎🌖
🌃🌎🌗  🌃🌎🌘  🌃🌎🌙  🌃🌎🌚
🌃🌏🌑  🌃🌏🌒  🌃🌏🌓  🌃🌏🌔
🌃🌏🌕  🌃🌏🌖  🌃🌏🌗  🌃🌏🌘
🌃🌏🌙  🌃🌏🌚  🌄🌍🌑  🌄🌍🌒
🌄🌍🌓  🌄🌍🌔  🌄🌍🌕  🌄🌍🌖
🌄🌍🌗  🌄🌍🌘  🌄🌍🌙  🌄🌍🌚
🌄🌎🌑  🌄🌎🌒  🌄🌎🌓  🌄🌎🌔
🌄🌎🌕  🌄🌎🌖  🌄🌎🌗  🌄🌎🌘
🌄🌎🌙  🌄🌎🌚  🌄🌏🌑  🌄🌏🌒
🌄🌏🌓  🌄🌏🌔  🌄🌏🌕  🌄🌏🌖
🌄🌏🌗  🌄🌏🌘  🌄🌏🌙  🌄🌏🌚
🌅🌍🌑  🌅🌍🌒  🌅🌍🌓  🌅🌍🌔
🌅🌍🌕  🌅🌍🌖  🌅🌍🌗  🌅🌍🌘
🌅🌍🌙  🌅🌍🌚  🌅🌎🌑  🌅🌎🌒
🌅🌎🌓  🌅🌎🌔  🌅🌎🌕  🌅🌎🌖
🌅🌎🌗  🌅🌎🌘  🌅🌎🌙  🌅🌎🌚
🌅🌏🌑  🌅🌏🌒  🌅🌏🌓  🌅🌏🌔
🌅🌏🌕  🌅🌏🌖  🌅🌏🌗  🌅🌏🌘
🌅🌏🌙  🌅🌏🌚

if you websearch for: 🌅🌏🌚 you should find a link back to here. But you won't Because giggllly doesn't work anymore giggllly doesn't work anymore. He ain't got a job anymore he's just a slob right now. I searched for 🌃🌏🌚 and never found it Even though there's no way around it it's right up there (i need an arrow unicode) Giggly doesnt work anymore Giggley doesn't work anymore. Gile, Gill, Sven, Bill I can't find them if I will.🌅🌏🌕 🌅🌏🌖 🌅🌏🌗 🌅🌏🌘 🌅🌏🌙 Giggly doesn't work anymore! Giggly doesn't work anymore!

Dec 31, 2013 (12-24-2013)

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

"I'm all blogged out."

~ OK Now.

Praise God! awful first novel lines:

OK, I've actually got somewhere to go.

how hard is it to use these new symbols in your stuff? Well, first you need to know that they exist. Second, you can just cut and paste them.

🌀 🌁 🌂 🌃 🌄 🌅 🌆 🌇 🌈 🌉 🌊 🌋 🌌 🌍 🌎 🌏 🌐 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝 🌞 🌟 🌠

I've got a message for . . . Mr Bash (an alias for someone else). Mr Bash, if I use brace expansion with the dot-dot idiom, ie like this:

echo -e {🌃..🌅}{🌍..🌏}{🌑..🌚}" "

why does that not work when

echo -e {🌃,🌄,🌅}{🌍,🌎,🌏}{🌑,🌒,🌓,🌔,🌕,🌖,🌗,🌘,🌙,🌚}" "

will? Maybe I've not ordered the elements properly. Well that little snippit doesn't work that well but t

It gets put in
and no one notices it.      

The following poem is fresh, whipped up, off the cuff.

  
 all he wants
  is a hug
 from no one
 but from the heart.
  


  Praise God! 

"An inheritance may be gotten hastily at the beginning; but the end thereof shall not be blessed." Proverbs 20:21 KJV

🖐🖑
🖑🖐He's doing his jazz hands again.
 send the ambassador
   to the outsiders lounge
 and tell all the guests
   that it's their turn to scrounge.
 eccentric leaders
  and their expensive designs
   who dares to tell them
      when their cargoes hit mines?
    So he's doing his jazz hands again.
  who dares tell him?
      ah, but music
    and dancing
     the scent 
 of expensive
 ointments and lotions
       and the sound of the rain
   electric
 who dares tell
      that the party might end?
  Who will explain this to the ambassador?
   🖐🖑

Wake up!

Wake up!

Wake up!

And this really is at 
the end of the column