J.C. Tribble, III

J.C. Tribble, III Poems

A wild animal runs through the halls.
Smashing cans against the wall.
Warmth of innocence flows by hands insane.
Lost but not forgotten, with strength regained.
...

A Brain Teaser:
I believe...everything we ever thought, seen, heard, or otherwise experienced is locked in our brains. I suggest that there is no such thing as long-term / short-term memory, but varying degrees of burn-in. Just like a LCD TV if you leave a Flatscreen on with a static image long enough the image burns into the screen itself and leaves a sort of a memory image. Those of us from the Eighties are familiar with this happening on Pac-Man and Centipede screens at the arcades [actually CRTs].
...

Hiakus are not poems,
Hiakus are not poems,
Hiakus are not poems,
I've died a thou-sand times to be BORN some-where else.
...

J.C. Tribble, III Biography

Learned poetry in high school and college.)

The Best Poem Of J.C. Tribble, III

Newtown Catharsis

A wild animal runs through the halls.
Smashing cans against the wall.
Warmth of innocence flows by hands insane.
Lost but not forgotten, with strength regained.
The Fallen Shall Be Forever Missed.

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