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		I can see how this is developing. I make this move with trepidation. 
 A Conversation with the Magician’s Rabbit
 
 Bc5
 
 No simple trick,
 no sleight, no illusion,
 like the cat in the box
 (in two states),
 I wait
 for quantum certainty.
 
 The universe is cold
 silk and brimmed
 with heat death.
 
 Your stories give us watches.
 We are late, ever late.
 Even this is perception.
 
 I speak a mystery;
 there is no hat.
 
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Wow, good use of Schrödinger's cat. The whole poem feels a little abstract, though it seems like its meant to be that way. No worries, nothing too drastic is going to happen. It's too early for that.
	 
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		I'm just going with the absolute first thing that comes to mind without over thinking and blocking myself.
	 
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Todd, I just got an image of trying to smuggle a cat across state lines... drive, Schrödinger, drive!
	 
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		 (01-22-2013, 08:05 AM)Leanne Wrote:  Todd, I just got an image of trying to smuggle a cat across state lines... drive, Schrödinger, drive! 
Nice
 
You get a box...look tabby I've been on the bad side of a top hat for the past three years of relative time. Light doesn't escape.
 
Quit your wining...am I dead? am I alive?
 
The big bang happened in that thing.
 
Boy did I spray some pellets let me tell you.
	 
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Phalanxd4
 
 It's a wall,
 Of shields and spears.
 Insurmountable, for
 We fight in the shade.
 
 Spear in hand,
 Tightly gripped.
 Shield in other,
 Clenched in fist.
 
 Air's static, but not stale.
 Cold sweat dripping
 For tonight, we dine in hell!
 
 Take initiative,
 TO VICTORY!
 And lest you forget,
 
 THIS - IS - SPARTA!!!!!!!!!
 
 ----------------------------------
 Great, now it has turned into one big 300 reference. =/
 
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		01-22-2013, 10:05 PM 
(This post was last modified: 01-23-2013, 12:07 PM by Todd.)
	
	 
		Frank Miller would be proud. I was not expecting THIS IS SPARTA. I probably should have from the title. It is Greek after all. I like the Air's static, but not stale line a lot. That would seem to speak of the anticipation of battle.
 Here's my move and my offering to the game. It's funny where your mind goes sometimes.
 
 ______________________________
 
 Newton’s Cradle
 
 eXd4
 
 Terror is
 an unseen clacking ball,
 
 an animated doll with
 a butcher’s knife
 
 crawling through
 ventilation shafts.
 
 Imperceptible connections:
 sticky as spiders’ webs.
 
 A butterfly’s wings bringing tornadoes.
 Overhead, flying monkeys chitter
 
 at straw zombies
 in need of brains.
 
 The witch cackle, cackles
 You can never go home.
 
 She will tell you of cancer
 after the cell phone call,
 
 of the mercury and fluoride
 after the filling.
 
 Death comes first
 then the dying.
 
 The metal duct cover has already
 clattered to the floor.
 
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Love the idea and Todd's acceptable loss.
 "The universe is cold
 silk and brimmed
 with heat death."
 
 Not that soon.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		No not that soon at all. Well, unless your universe is a top hat. Then who knows?
 Thanks Serge. Appreciate the comments
 
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		this here, Todd:
 Here's my move and my offering to the game. It's funny where your mind goes sometimes.
 
 is an almost perfect intro line to a poem i would write.
 
 but now better concentrate on your next move. ,-)
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		01-23-2013, 12:45 AM 
(This post was last modified: 01-23-2013, 12:47 AM by Todd.)
	
	 
		I need to not write at 5 in the morning. I had to edit that latest poem at least ten times. 
  (01-23-2013, 12:38 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  this here, Todd:
 Here's my move and my offering to the game. It's funny where your mind goes sometimes.
 
 is an almost perfect intro line to a poem i would write.
 
 but now better concentrate on your next move. ,-)
 
The moves are easy. I assume Brandon will kill me, and let it go.
 
I can edit the poems, sadly my finger has long since left the piece. The move is the move.
	
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		curious guy anyway. ,-) Don't listen, Brandon.  have you ever played online chess? I did, was fun, was drunk of course and lost. But almost as sexy as cybering. Or maybe more so.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		I have never ventured into the debauched drunken online chess world. 
Sounds like an algebraic virtual orgy.    kidding
 
Sounds fun.
	
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		That's most things. As a great philosopher once said: Every Rose has a thorn...
 Was that Kant? or silly me...Bret Michaels
 
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		 (01-23-2013, 12:51 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  curious guy anyway. ,-) Don't listen, Brandon.  have you ever played online chess? I did, was fun, was drunk of course and lost. But almost as sexy as cybering. Or maybe more so. 
Yeah I did. I use online chess to try out various openings and new ideas mainly. Anyways for my next move. I already know what to play, I just need to think of a poem to write. Which has always been the case for the game thus far. For now, sleep beckons.
	 
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		(I had to add: somewhat) bc yes! alone was refused to be posted. the board's demon demanded 5 letters. Haha. really.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		You're Out!cxd4
 
 The bat's dropped,
 Thud unheard.
 All that's left,
 A sandstorm trail.
 
 Ball flying low,
 Then it skids,
 Rippling on the sandy lake.
 
 Eye on target, square in sight.
 Wee upward curve speaks aplomb.
 Sweeping dive, time for progress.
 All waiting for the grit curtain
 To fall.
 
 Wait, the baseman is touching.
 When?
 How?
 Peek at the foot, a gap revealed.
 Small in number, large in scale.
 
 Eyelids close, heart plummets,
 As umpire avers with 2 syllables.
 Like a dull thud.
 
 ---------------------------------
 Oh, I kind of like this one better than the previous ones. =D The words just came to me.
 
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		01-23-2013, 09:53 PM 
(This post was last modified: 01-23-2013, 11:44 PM by Todd.)
	
	 
		Yeah, I think I agree. It might be your best one in the thread so far. One you may want to workshop when we're done. 
 
I know the move I'm going to make, but the poem may take a little bit of time. I'll try to get something up today.
 
My chess annoys me more than my poetry (though that annoys me too sometimes    )
	
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		Sacrifice
 Bb4+
 
 No one mourns the acorn
 in the shade of the oak.
 
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
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