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Location: UFOUpDatesList.Com > 1997 > Oct > Oct 8

Re: Alfred's Odd Ode #188

From: Alfred Lehmberg <Lehmberg@snowhill.com>
Date: Wed, 08 Oct 1997 14:53:18 -0500
Fwd Date: Wed, 08 Oct 1997 21:03:05 -0400
Subject: Re: Alfred's Odd Ode #188

Apology to MW #188 (For October 8, 1997)

The wife's up my nose so I gotta' be nice to ya';
Smile an' nod, and pretend we're not drunk!
Pretend that it's real our contrived waste of power!
Pretend that indifference h'aint rotted and stunk!!!

"Not like that," she says! And she draws her rolling pen.
She swings it, striking swiftly like a mongoose.
It glances from my head like a theme in Isaac's physics,
And I rebound from the keyboard, a little fuzzy, faint, but footloose.

An uppercut is next, and I fly right from my shoes=85
=85Transcribe an arc, and then I fetch up near the wall!
Through the stars and little sputniks I can see her panther stalking=85
She wasn't finished yet, I feared; I tried a clever stall=85

"=85You're right, hon=85," I began, and I tried to catch my breath,
But her blood was up, and would she understand?
"Let me try again," I bargained, "I'm sure I'll hit this time"!
So, she settled back into my chair, a tazer in her hand.

"Once upon a time -- on a dark and stormy night=85"
"There lived a man up on a hill, the richest man in sight.
"All enclosed, a golden cell, and away from common plight"
"He dines on light fantastic, while the others cheat, and fight."

I'd finished up the period when she zapped me with her tazer.
She held it 'til the NICADs lost their power!
She fed it brand new batteries, and then she held it down again=85
I "slipped the surly bonds" of Earth, and was floating to a tower <?>.

I stood atop the structure, and I tried to take it in=85
The wheeling stars in space, a singing choir.
The watchers were an orchestra of breathy moaning woodwinds;
The planets with their moons co-joined -- brass sections bringing fire.

Asteroids and moonlets -- the piano and the strings,
Gravity conducting concerts in its sphere.
A constant traveling music where the least can move and sing,
Like it's sitting in a Fasching tent, and pounding down good beer.

The comets are the ushers in this theatre of the night,
And their 'tales' smell of cinnamon and cloves.
They swing the kind of flashlight that is never in your eyes
In a multi colored spectacle that's as good as your whole show.

I open eyes I'd shut when the vision got too great,
And there she stood again, her hands now empty.
Back to Earth I'd fallen like sudden driving rain,
But I wasn't where the tower was, and I was hearing Ren and Stimpy.

She asked if it was good for me, and I had to laugh out loud.
"For where I go, you shouldn't have to ask=85"
She wondered at my thinking, that she's kind to grin and bear,
Then she sauntered off to finish, some odd, necessary task.


Ok -- so criticism gets a little weird over at my house. Don't try any
of that at home.

Try this -- if you are into friendly get togethers of around 10
or so, everybody get their hands on a disposable BIC or Cricket
lighter and repair to someplace where you can insure complete and
utter darkness.

Don't light the lighters (in fact it would be preferable if they
contained _no_ fuel) but strike them as you move around in the
darkness for a quick, bright, single burst of _strobe_ light from
the flint. If everyone has one then you get these little bursts
of light from different parts of the room for a very unusual and
reality distorting, artistic effect. A fast filmed camera left
with its shutter open to record this event would take some very
odd pictures -- give it a try.

A spent lighter is a good flashlight for moving around in a dark
backyard, too; it's too quick a flash to destroy the night vision
necessary for efficacious and competent UFO detection and
observation <g>.  I grin -- but I have to report to you that I
make every effort to greet predawn morning, evening, and daytime
skies for respectful observation, and, in fact, see UFOs. Nothing
conclusive, or worth clogging an agency with (or risking
attention from) -- but UFOs none the less. I've seen them with my
son, =85=85=85.=85sumpin' d'ere in'a sky, bro' 'n sis'!

If anybody makes a million from my spent lighter idea, somehow,
do me the courtesy of throwing me a bone, and don't play the
blackout game if you smell, or expel, any gas <g>. On the other
hand, continue, it could add to the spectacle!

Explore the Alien View?


"I cleave the heavens, and soar to the infinite. What others see from
afar, I leave far behind me." - Giordano Bruno, while burning at the
fundamentalist's stake, in a too rational criticism.


Government or Social Harassment REPORT - Presently, "ZERO" Personal
HARASSMENT; however, the harassment index is infinite for each of us.
Consider the people who hate rhyming poetry.

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