Tres bien. Mon francais est terrible, mais je dois faux parce que je suis Canadian. Aimee toujours votre poemes, n'importre pas quelle langue. Et je suis tres desole pour les personnel francais pour mon usage terrible de la langue.
Mon Francais est effreyant ... et je vais pas prendre le temps pour faire certain que c'est correct. Je suis nee Francais avec Anglais pour ma langue secondaire ... mais ca fais 40 ans que je ne vie pas dans un milieu oux j'ai la chance de parlez en Francais ...
But sometimes my mind reverts to thinking in French especially when it comes to religion ... and certain emotions. That little poem I wrote was an example of how my mind 'flickers' back and forth sometimes. It's odd. It has nothing to do with it ... but the seduction I was subjected to ... the endearments and flattery and cajoling was said in French. Somehow ... that little poem needed to be expressed in the way it was. I was abused ... overlooked and dismissed and unseen and unheard in French.
Et ca est pourquoie.
Experience is a brutal teacher.
Monsieur v-v Your French is better than mine. lol What started this exorcise in bilingual expression was the second thing I wrote in my my poem 'alone again'
Your poem is ... raw ... viscerally evocative ... a credit to the angst you feel. I couldn't have said it better myself ... and ... I could never have said it as well as you did in French.
The words I've just written is what should have begun or ended what I said here earlier ... after 'Tres bien' ... and I'm ashamed that I didn't say it then. I apologize.
I have a problem.
... and now I'm stuck. I've spent quite literally hours trying to continue ... to explain ... and I can't. Know this v-v Everybody who is a regular in Poetry ... please know. I appreciate everything. I read everything. I make comments about everything people write ... but almost always ... I can't hit the submit button. What I say about myself is mine ... it can't be disputed. What I say about or to others is subject to interpretation ... judgement ... misunderstanding ... It just leaves me too vulnerable. Rather than say what could be the wrong thing ... I say very little ... or nothing.
I hope this makes sense because if I don't hit submit right now I won't be able to. I'm sorry.
Experience is a brutal teacher.
you are talking to an insensitive oblivious motor mouth jerk who regularly and unintentionally offends people. just by being open and honest.
sometimes i am not even aware that i did it, and then i am confused as to "what did i say?"
i am so hard and impervious to personal attacks from years of extreme abuse and conflict, it takes a lot to get me riled.
i have a blackened soul, a heart of stone, a thick skull, a rhino hide, and a teflon suit. nothing really bothers me, and if it gets through all that armour, it passes right through me very quickly. years of practice i guess. so sometimes, it often bothers me that others are not so hard as i am.
some people are as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. i am more like a bull in a china shop. or more accurately, i feel like a porcupine in a room full of balloons.
because i don't get easily offended, it is hard for me to imagine why so many other people imagine insults in my words.
anyway, feel free to say what you want to me. i will let you know if you are crossing the line.
i dare you to hit the submit, and roll the dice.
if you say something "offensive" to someone "sensitive", you can always retract, edit, or delete it later.
and... as i have taught and told my children... whenever you hurt someone... regardless of whether you intend to offend... don't forget to accept, acknowledge, apologize, and atone.
thank you so much for your kind words and the great review.
Shyshark I also read everything posted in this forum and also find it hard to comment, even though I want to. Thanks for your honesty and venerability, I think I am going to make more of an effort to comment when I have something to say. And vv and Shyshark, I really truly love the things you write. So often they just cut right to the core of something. Thanks, Ben
v-v ... I'm a little confused. Maybe I'm not reading it right ... but I get the idea that you think you offended me somehow. Far from it. I was honoured that you would want to know what I thought of your poem ... and accidentally ... you stumbled onto the key. I couldn't offer it to you ... I was intensely uncomfortable and afraid with doing so. but ... you asked me for it. BIG BIG difference. By inviting me to comment you gave me permission to speak my mind. And I did. I loved your poem.
So you see ... it has nothing to do with not having a say ... and everything to do with doing so publicly. Everything here ... is for all to read ... forever. Just thinking about that makes my flesh crawl. If I had something particularly personal to say to you ... or an issue with what you said ... I would NEVER do it here. I would contact you privately.
Here ... I'm Shy. On a personal level ... I'm ShyShark. Now ... don't get the wrong idea. Sharky is a sweet and gentle fishy ... ordinarily ... and he's with shy to help him overcome his shortcomings by always being ready to be strong for him ... and to defend him ... because Shy is incapable of doing that himself ... he never could. Those who have come to know me ... and when there is mutual trust ... are sometimes wary of asking sensitive things from Shy. Sharky is known to answer at times ... and Sharky can bite. He deals with honesty ... as he sincerely sees it ... and he feels especially obliged to do so with his friends in MS. Guys here deserve the truth ... they already live with more than enough lies.
Shy won't let Sharky loose in public forums anymore. He's done so before ... and the one who ends up getting bitten the hardest is Shy.
So you see ... Shawn lets the ShyShark persona deal with things. That way ... he doesn't have to accept responsibility for what those 2 fools get up to. :P
Experience is a brutal teacher.
I've been obsessing over this ... getting it set straight feels very good.
I read as much as I can and try to keep up with currant poems as they are posted. I must admit ... I have a balancing act on my hands.
The bipolar thing is an ever present, malevolent monkey on my back and I have to be careful. Some things that people write upset me ... or rather they trigger in me a deep sense of pain on their behalf ... and like some of my own stuff it gets stuck in my head and won't leave ... and ... lol ... I have enough of my own demons running amok in there ... so I limit what I read at times ... and so I do fall behind.
You are a prodigious writer v-v ... and I know for certain I haven't read all that you've written. If I haven't checked in for a little while the number of poems submitted in the interval can be too many and so I don't get to them all. I always search for those with whom ... like you ... I have a bit if a relationship ... and then move on to the new ones that catch my eye. It's a terrible system because I know I'm missing out on some that I should have read ... and by the time I get back to it ... the moment really has passed and they've moved on.
You ... I always look for ... but sometimes when I check in you're already on page 2 or 3 ... and I just don't get to you. I'll try to catch up. Like yourself I've developed a bit a a relationship with those who are here a lot ... and I have a new one to watch for now.
HEY! .... bey ... I'm talkin about you buddy ... I'll be keeping an eye on you now ... live in fear ... LOL
I have to go to work guys.
See you tonight ... if I can
Experience is a brutal teacher.
C'est à vous qu'ici je dédie Ces vers, enfants de mon loisir. Déjà ma bouteille est finie Et ma raison va revenir. Ne craignez pas que la sagesse Change votre image à mes yeux ; Je n'ai pas besoin de l'ivresse Pour vous voir bon et vertueux.
Je vais mourir… le jour est-il plus sombre ? Dans les cieux l’éclair a-t-il lui ? Sur moi vois-je s’étendre une ombre Qui présage une horrible nuit ? Non, rien n’a troublé la nature. Tout est riant autour de moi, Mon âme est calme et sans murmure, Mon coeur sans crainte et sans effroi Comme une vierge chaste et pure.
Sur des songes d’amour je m’appuie et m’endors, Me direz-vous ce que c’est qu’un remords ?
Vertu, tu n’es qu’un mot, car partout sur la terre Ainsi que Dieu je t’ai cherchée en vain ! Dieu ! Vertu ! paraissez, montrez-moi la lumière ! Mon coeur va devant vous s’humilier soudain. Dieu ! mais c’est en son nom qu’on maudit, qu’on torture Celui qui l’a conçu plus sublime et plus grand ? La vertu !… n’est-ce pas une longue imposture Qui dérobe le riche au fer de l’indigent ? On n’en demande pas à l’opulence altière, On en dispense le pouvoir, Le pauvre seul est tenu d’en avoir. Pauvre à toi la vertu ! Pauvre à toi la misère.
A nous le vice et la vie à plein verre ! Vous ! mourez sans vous plaindre : est-ce pas votre sort ? Mourez sans nous troubler ou vous êtes infâmes. J’ai saisi mon poignard et j’ai dit, moi : de l’or !… De l’or avec du sang… de l’or et puis des femmes Qu’on achète et qu’on paye avec cet or sanglant. Des femmes et du vin… un instant je veux vivre… Du sang… du vin… l’ivresse… attendez un instant Et puis à votre loi tout entier je me livre… Que voulez-vous de moi ? vous parlez d’échafaud ? Me voici… j’ai vécu… j’attendais le bourreau.
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