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Post by Don Schaeffer on Apr 29, 2010 8:14:14 GMT -5
On arrival after a long involuntary journey I was met by the wicked Witch of the West.
I complained about her to my neighbors among whom was Glenda the Good. What Glenda told me made me silent.
"The witch," she said already lives here, a citizen of the realm. She worships an established god who defends her."
Then Glenda took her sympathetic, far-away pose and whispered, "You, my poor dear are just a landless stranger."
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Post by Dunstan Attard on Apr 30, 2010 4:23:48 GMT -5
extra dimension here...touch of kafka colours...why do i suddenly see so many works go the extra mile? is it just my morning mood or a collective peak of sublime expression?
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Post by leecrowell on Apr 30, 2010 5:12:46 GMT -5
so it wasn't all just black and white in the land of 'Oz' that's the trouble with movies, the technicolor spectacularism (?) overshadows gray areas
your poem transposes the production into a 1950's film noir
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Apr 30, 2010 10:55:52 GMT -5
Thanks. It always was about stealing the rights of the evil witch out of a prejudice favoring the jolly.
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Post by The Velvet Claw on Oct 1, 2010 0:44:28 GMT -5
Welcome to my world. You just described it all too well.
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Oct 1, 2010 8:54:50 GMT -5
Mine too.
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Post by The Velvet Claw on Oct 1, 2010 9:10:33 GMT -5
Not really. You see, in Canada you're free to move about. We who live amongst the Wicked Witch's minions, who pray to Allah, fear for our lives. In fact, I would say many have moved northwards across the Pacific already to found new lives in Canada.
I've been trying to move away, but to be honest, it is all but difficult. And with world peace and prosperity in jeopardy, even I have to realise that I could move from my home -- but to where? do I cross northwards to live in Greater China? no -- I will definitely be a stranger or worse. It just continues, this madness.
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