Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Waning Strength of Words
.
This is an entry in our ongoing Group Writing Series, an opportunity to write devised, coördinated, and executed by Ricochet’s members. Part of the purpose of the Group Writing Series is to encourage new voices and to broaden the focus of topics on Ricochet. Do we want Ricochet to be all Trump (positive and negative) all the time? Of course not. I haven’t seen him here. I haven’t seen him sharing his ideas with us. Each month in group writing, we pick a theme. For March, the theme is Feats of Strength. Your writing doesn’t have to be serious. It doesn’t have to be brilliant. You can even just ask questions. It’s been done before. It can go in the opposite direction of the theme as many have in the past.
We still have ten openings in March as soon as this upcoming Friday or last Sunday, if you have a time machine. Why not bring your voice to the choir? Our schedule and sign-up sheet awaits you like a horse-drawn sleigh in the snow. All it needs is you, the horse.
I’d comment on this excellent thread, but I can’t seem to find the words . . . .
Argh, it’s a picture, I can’t comment on just a line or two. I was going to observe that the mind didn’t appear to be all that tired yet,
but now I’m not so sure, I have to hedge my bet.
Yes, the formatting of poems gets messed up in the initial conversation starter. It didn’t used to, but progress, donchano?
“I used to be a po’t,” the old man said.
“I wrote a thousand sonnets, and songs, too.
Every form there was was in my head
And boom! I’d pop them out clean or blue.
Why, the ladies were at my feet to beg
A few words from me, words to light their hearts,
To set afire their passions, up a peg
or two from where their humdrum days would start.
Those were the days! The world was wholly mine
When silver dropped from every word I spoke.
How long ago those scattered days divine
that dream yet abed, while the world awoke.
The lexicon long lost languished, abstruse,
And now my mind is tired from little use.”
I resemble this remark.
Well, get it out and play with it, then.
Lovely. I can’t sign up this month, but maybe next.
I love the energy in this piece. The words aren’t languorous–they pop out of the page at you. Well done.
Thank you, Michael. And it’s always good to see you here.