Please go to
𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 - Mon. thru Sat. or
𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 - Sunday
for today's Jumble, Printable or Interactive. Then return here to discuss it!
This ChiTrib site was available from 6:00 pm yesterday (Mountain Time).
Monday thru Saturday, but not Sunday, you will also find a Printable version at the A𝖗k𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖘 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖙-𝕲𝖆𝖟𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊 , from about ~11 pm (MT) yesterday.
A color Interactive version is available from 3 am (MT) today at the 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖔 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖊 .
The opening poem should contain all the words (or variations of them) from today's Jumble and/or Wordle and/or Orijinz.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is NOT required.
Do not explicitly reveal any of the actual Jumble or Wordle answer words until after closing time, but embedding them surreptitiously in comment sentences is encouraged.
Comments are welcomed! And couching them in Poetry is NOT required.
7 comments:
Time again for my day off!
But to offer summat in my place
(with a truly punchy payoff),
here’s a poem that’s filled with grace:
You will likely find it morbid,
for its themes are plague & death.
But I have always found it
of a warm, comradely breadth.
I came to it in my late teen years,
when we rarely think such things.
His stressing the inevitable
lessens fear. Nashe sings!—
with that drum beat cadence
calling everyone standing by,
“Come, come, the bells do cry,
I am sick, I must die…
Lord*, have mercy on us.”
Yes, it’s unrelieved, no hope to youth,
ahead of its time in absurdity.
But its beauty asserts a human truth;
its art inspires us, fearlessly.
There was no plague when I first read it,
though my grandparents both died in the flu.
They were young in 1918,
not much older themselves than teens.
In my riper years, now it’s beckoning—
to keep the family record clean,
to follow my brother, “baby sister” too.
As the Romans said, it’s time to go
and join “the majority,” friends; and so
I commend you to this noble piece,
and trust it won’t disturb your sleep.
“Litany in Time of Plague”
by Thomas Nashe (1593)
Adieu, farewell, earth’s bliss;
This world uncertain is;
Fond are life’s lustful joys;
Death proves them all but toys;
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade.
All things to end are made,
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath clos’ed Helen’s eye.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate,
Earth still holds ope her gate.
“Come, come!” the bells do cry.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death’s bitterness;
Hell’s executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Haste, therefore, each degree,
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player’s stage;
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us.
~ OMK
____________
* I am not religious, but I find the refrain consoling simply because it is a heartfelt appeal for death to bring solace.
Mounting to the sky and entering heaven show an understanding that—as Neil deGrasse Tyson would put it—we ‘re made of stardust, and our molecules are due to be re-absorbed.
Wow! What a Sunday beginning, Ol' Man Keith. Can't wait to read it later.
I have a rare social event today, a Sunday lunch party I'll be leaving soon to attend, and I'll therefore probably have no Jumble responses until later this afternoon because I also have a family phone visit at 4pm.
So, even if you don't hear from me until quite late, I am thinking of you both fondly, and sending you happy Sunday wishes.
Cheers, Margot
Nothing is truly free. The smart business person calculates the costs and benefits before offering a “free” service to build up customers for their new store.
No matter what your zodiac sign,
Locale cool or hotter instead,
The stars will surely align,
Despite other differences unsaid.
A franchise in a grocery chain
Can be parlayed at large
Into a viable business with gain.
But “No delivery charge”
May be the breaking point.
Misty- I hope your lunch party was wonderful . . . and of course, a family phone visit is the best thing (well, the next best thing to in person!) on a Sunday afternoon. Don’t worry about getting back here today. Enjoy a break.
OMK- obviously, neither Misty nor I read your Sunday offering (although I did not the length of it!) before we posted. You have given us a Sunday combo of your own explanatory background poem and the Nashe poem. It is true that a plague (even Covid) can bring into sharp view what is truly important in life. “Earth but a player’s stage” must resonate with you!
Not morbid to me after this past year in which we have had the deaths of 10 relatives, close friends, long-time neighbours. (And even here, we are missing WC and we don’t know about OwenKL). It is sobering to reflect on all those lives, each with their own influence on family members, friends, work contacts. The memories are sometimes bittersweet, and we begin to reflect on our own mortality, as we are now the oldest generation. We also reflect on how to leave our affairs in the best possible order for those who have to deal with them. And how to give things (jewellery, art, wealth etc.) now to those who could enjoy them, because we no longer place the same value on them for ourselves.
The saying of “dust to dust, ashes to ashes” does invoke “Lord have mercy on us”. As a person of faith, I am comforted in sorrow by the hope of eternity. And isn’t that what the real meaning of this Christmas season is all about.
No more sermonizing for me today.
I trust that your words are just current meditations, and not an indication of serious impending medical complications. Thoughts and prayers either way.
Wonderful poem Misty. All those J words were included, and even free delivery.
And a wedding and honeymoon. Very romantic.
I hope you had a good day.
Ol' Man Keith, your thoughtful, sad, and instructive verse, followed by Nashe's personalizing of the similar concerns, clearly strikes all of us very deeply. Especially at our age, we have lost so many family members and family friends that we are so clearly aware of the reality of mortality. When my step-father died fairly recently, I realized that I was the last living member of my previous family, and I was, of course, shaken by the recognition. But I can only respond my saying a daily prayer of thanks for all the beloved people in my life who are gone--mother, father, aunts and uncles, my 20 year old sister many years ago, and my beloved husband of 23 years, my dear Rowland.
CanadianEh!, your verse today totally thrilled me with the way you took the Jumble words and used them to rhyme you poem in a particular order. You begin with the bottom J words, 'zodiac', 'hotter', and 'unsaid,' and then turn to the top J words, "grocery', parlay, and viable.' And you add the Jumble solution 'no delivery charge,' just before the end. A fascinating way to structure your work here, and also very moving. Thank you for this delightful verse.
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