...is there anything you want before you go?edit 1.0 chris, erthona

[tectak]

Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home.
At this age I want it all; all that I never had,
or had, but want again. The day before, I bought a book;
I know it well, but maybe just because it looks
as though it, too, deserved a second chance,
I took it to my bed last night.

Sleep was near, but thumbing through the dry, frail pages
I breathed in air from years ago. Each sandwiched leaf exhaled
on turning, all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors
from time’s past paragraph. I forget their names;
such unfamiliarity. I really ought to keep in touch
in this late hour, before I finally succumb.

That pen-knife that I bought today; I put it down somewhere.
I looked for it in all the places lost things seem to go.
The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue;
or were last time I looked, but I don’t recall where every cache
is hidden anymore. At least I have the one I bought today.
Enough. I put out the bedside light. Something falls to the floor.

Whatever it was, it will still be there tomorrow.

tectak
Cringletie House Hotel
2014

[Erthona]

Ah taking an old book to bed and getting cozy with it. Well, you know what they say, "There's no book like an old book!" Or at least I think that's what "they" say, but who are they, anyway? I'm starting to worry about you. did you have an aneurysm fighting dust bunnies, or where you mad at the world and decided to make everyone pay? There is something about this poem that just doesn't add up. I do not know how to approach it, as I am currently lacking in firearms, nor do I have a knife with which I might kill it. Maybe I can borrow the 1 of 3, that became the none of two.

"Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home."

"The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue"

You see there. You are loosing knifes at an abysmal rate. The way I count, and correct me if I am wrong, you originally had three (3) knives back home, and you bought one (1) new one. In my math class 3+1=4, yet now you seem to have only two (2). I'm afraid this poem may have stolen one from you, and what if it pulls it on me. So you can see, why I'd like to borrow the one of three. I assume it has gone where socks and the like wander off to. I have a door into that somewhat stuffed tesseract, maybe I can open it, find your knife and bring it back. Though to this poem I mean no offense, at least it would provide me with some defense. You can see that, can't you.
Oh say that you do,
and when I'm done,
I'll give it back to you.
Oils well that ends well, as we say in Texas; knife-lessly into the fray.

Well this is a mixed bag isn't it? As the with the knives a strange metamorphoses occurs.

"The day before I bought a book; I know it well"

You see, he knew it well, "alas poor yorick i knew it well, this book I bought, and old friend past, that I can cuddle like a lass.

"all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors from time’s past paragraph."

Oh well, no longer just a case of missing knives (and what would one do with so many), but now a missing mind as well.

"Something falls to the floor." I think it is your mind....
it could be your behind, but I don't think your memories in arrears...

I'm beginning to think it was not
"air from years ago" , but instead brain rot.

Not really, that would be unkind, besides
I don't really think my good friend Tam has broke off his stem,
No, I suspect more, he had a bottle of good Scotch in him.

Never you mind, I'll set things to write,
just let me borrow a little of your string and glue,
and a balled point-pen, I could use that too,
for pregnant pauses, put in a poem from a Tam who's mostly tight!

Good night sweet prints, good night.

Best,

Dale

[tectak]

Ah taking an old book to bed and getting cozy with it. Well, you know what they say, "There's no book like an old book!" Or at least I think that's what "they" say, but who are they, anyway? I'm starting to worry about you. did you have an aneurysm fighting dust bunnies, or where you mad at the world and decided to make everyone pay? There is something about this poem that just doesn't add up. I do not know how to approach it, as I am currently lacking in firearms, nor do I have a knife with which I might kill it. Maybe I can borrow the 1 of 3, that became the none of two.

"Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home."

"The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue"

You see there. You are loosing knifes at an abysmal rate. The way I count, and correct me if I am wrong, you originally had three (3) knives back home, and you bought one (1) new one. In my math class 3+1=4, yet now you seem to have only two (2). No no Dale. You miss the whole point. The memory is going.See the last line.This is the confusion of age not arthmeticI'm afraid this poem may have stolen one from you, and what if it pulls it on me. So you can see, why I'd like to borrow the one of three. I assume it has gone where socks and the like wander off to. I have a door into that somewhat stuffed tesseract, maybe I can open it, find your knife and bring it back. Though to this poem I mean no offense, at least it would provide me with some defense. You can see that, can't you.
Oh say that you do,
and when I'm done,
I'll give it back to you.
Oils well that ends well, as we say in Texas; knife-lessly into the fray.

Well this is a mixed bag isn't it? As the with the knives a strange metamorphoses occurs.

"The day before I bought a book; I know it well"

You see, he knew it well, "alas poor yorick i knew it well, this book I bought, and old friend past, that I can cuddle like a lass.

"all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors from time’s past paragraph."

Oh well, no longer just a case of missing knives (and what would one do with so many), but now a missing mind as well. I think you've got it,! By God he's got it

"Something falls to the floor." I think it is your mind....
it could be your behind, but I don't think your memories in arrears...

I'm beginning to think it was not
"air from years ago" , but instead brain rot.

Not really, that would be unkind, besides
I don't really think my good friend Tam has broke off his stem,
No, I suspect more, he had a bottle of good Scotch in him.

Never you mind, I'll set things to write,
just let me borrow a little of your string and glue,
and a balled point-pen, I could use that too,
for pregnant pauses, put in a poem from a Tam who's mostly tight!

Good night sweet prints, good night.

Best,

Dale

What do you want for breakfast, or shall I just wait until nearer the time?
Best, Tectak

[Erthona]

A big bloody sausage and a couple of eggs.

Well, an apology of all the nasty things you said about my poem.

You were thinking that I thought the speaker was you,
yet you did that selfsame injustice to me.


Dale

[tectak]

A big bloody sausage and a couple of eggs.

Well, an apology of all the nasty things you said about my poem.

You were thinking that I thought the speaker was you,
yet you did that selfsame injustice to me.


Dale

It WAS me...and your point is?
tictok

[Erthona]

No it was not, it was Tam, I said so right in my critique. Tam's a doddering old fool, while Tom is sharp as a tack (well at least when he'snot huffing mushrooms) ! Evidently a case of mistaken self-identity

Dae

[tectak]

No it was not, it was Tam, I said so right in my critique. Tam's a doddering old fool, while Tom is sharp as a tack (well at least when he'snot huffing mushrooms) ! Evidently a case of mistaken self-identity

Dae

....and with one bound he was free!!
Wily Coyotee could learn a trick from you
tectak

[Erthona]

Wily Coyotee could learn a trick from anyone. However it is true, I am the master of the one fast pull!


dale

[ChristopherSea]

Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home.
At this age I want it all; all that I never had,
or had, but want again. The day before I bought a book;
I know it well, but maybe just because it looks
as though it, too, deserved a second chance,
I took it to my bed last night.

Sleep was near, but thumbing through the dry, frail pages
I breathed in air from years ago. Each sandwiched leaf exhaled
on turning, all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors
from time’s past paragraph. I forget their names;
such unfamiliarity. I really ought to keep in touch
in this late hour, before I finally succumb.

That pen-knife that I bought today; I put it down somewhere.
I looked for it in all the places lost things seem to go.
The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue;
or were last time I looked, but I don’t recall where every cache
is hidden anymore. At least I have the one I bought today.
Enough. I put out the bedside light. Something falls to the floor.

Whatever it was, it will still be there tomorrow.

tectak
Cringletie House Hotel
2014

You sound like a compulsive shopper Tom. Ask yourself, do I really need this (or another one)? You need a space here between: 'again.The'. I see some confusion in the 'box of...' and lost 'cache(s)'. I like your rationale for buying the second copy of the book, the second chance. The repeat with the altered recollection of items in the third stanza is reminiscent of early Alzheimer’s and very effective. I might substitute 'may' for 'will' in that final line. It would be more fitting with your theme. This holiday that you are on is really sparking your poetry. Keep at these gems./Chris

[tectak]

Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home.
At this age I want it all; all that I never had,
or had, but want again. The day before I bought a book;
I know it well, but maybe just because it looks
as though it, too, deserved a second chance,
I took it to my bed last night.

Sleep was near, but thumbing through the dry, frail pages
I breathed in air from years ago. Each sandwiched leaf exhaled
on turning, all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors
from time’s past paragraph. I forget their names;
such unfamiliarity. I really ought to keep in touch
in this late hour, before I finally succumb.

That pen-knife that I bought today; I put it down somewhere.
I looked for it in all the places lost things seem to go.
The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue;
or were last time I looked, but I don’t recall where every cache
is hidden anymore. At least I have the one I bought today.
Enough. I put out the bedside light. Something falls to the floor.

Whatever it was, it will still be there tomorrow.

tectak
Cringletie House Hotel
2014

You sound like a compulsive shopper Tom. Ask yourself, do I really need this (or another one)? You need a space here between: 'again.The'. I see some confusion in the 'box of...' and lost 'cache(s)'. I like your rationale for buying the second copy of the book, the second chance. The repeat with the altered recollection of items is the third stanza is reminiscent of early Alzheimer’s and very effective. I might substitute 'may' for 'will' in that final line. It would be more fitting with your theme. This holiday that you are on is really sparking your poetry. Keep at these gems./Chris

Hi Chris,
I don't see these missing spaces anymore...can't find my glasses
On the cache thing, I did choose the word because of it's peculiar evolving modernity....accepted as a place of storage, then as a hidden place of storage, then (and here is why) because in IT sense it becomes a "memory" cache. I played around with it for hours then took the plunge. To be honest, I was worried more about "box"
Thanks for the read. Space now inserted. May for will? Hmmm. I like the certainty against the odds of "will"; "may" gives a sentience to the condition which early sufferers don't have....I have witnessed it.
Best,
tectak

---

Ah taking an old book to bed and getting cozy with it. Well, you know what they say, "There's no book like an old book!" Or at least I think that's what "they" say, but who are they, anyway? I'm starting to worry about you. did you have an aneurysm fighting dust bunnies, or where you mad at the world and decided to make everyone pay? There is something about this poem that just doesn't add up. I do not know how to approach it, as I am currently lacking in firearms, nor do I have a knife with which I might kill it. Maybe I can borrow the 1 of 3, that became the none of two.

"Today I bought a pen-knife; I have three more back home."

"The other two are in my box of tools and string and glue"

You see there. You are loosing knifes at an abysmal rate. The way I count, and correct me if I am wrong, you originally had three (3) knives back home, and you bought one (1) new one. In my math class 3+1=4, yet now you seem to have only two (2). No no Dale. You miss the whole point. The memory is going.See the last line.This is the confusion of age not arthmeticI'm afraid this poem may have stolen one from you, and what if it pulls it on me. So you can see, why I'd like to borrow the one of three. I assume it has gone where socks and the like wander off to. I have a door into that somewhat stuffed tesseract, maybe I can open it, find your knife and bring it back. Though to this poem I mean no offense, at least it would provide me with some defense. You can see that, can't you.
Oh say that you do,
and when I'm done,
I'll give it back to you.
Oils well that ends well, as we say in Texas; knife-lessly into the fray.

Well this is a mixed bag isn't it? As the with the knives a strange metamorphoses occurs.

"The day before I bought a book; I know it well"

You see, he knew it well, "alas poor yorick i knew it well, this book I bought, and old friend past, that I can cuddle like a lass.

"all the words I used to know; now infrequent visitors from time’s past paragraph."

Oh well, no longer just a case of missing knives (and what would one do with so many), but now a missing mind as well. I think you've got it,! By God he's got it

"Something falls to the floor." I think it is your mind....
it could be your behind, but I don't think your memories in arrears...

I'm beginning to think it was not
"air from years ago" , but instead brain rot.

Not really, that would be unkind, besides
I don't really think my good friend Tam has broke off his stem,
No, I suspect more, he had a bottle of good Scotch in him.

Never you mind, I'll set things to write,
just let me borrow a little of your string and glue,
and a balled point-pen, I could use that too,
for pregnant pauses, put in a poem from a Tam who's mostly tight!

Good night sweet prints, good night.

Best,

Dale

What do you want for breakfast, or shall I just wait until nearer the time?
Best, Tectak

Oh, and Dale, and credit to you. I missed the relevance of "The day before I bought a book" and the completely different "The day before, I bought a book". Great catch. Thanks.
Tectak

[Erthona]

What, not an oblique allusion to Hamlet? What's with you Tommy, first you chastise me for not realizing that this is subtle; that the man who is losing his mind, is writing about himself losing his mind. Yet when I point out a subtle allusion to that unworkable monster Hamlet, you rebuff me as though affronted, acting like a country lass when a hand slips up her bloomers. Don't worry Tom, I was just going to give a little tug...your leg that is.

dae