If you had a choice to pick a box that would make you money trading, would you pick a

[jim2000]

Using your system, I hope I'm not wrong
Do you never go short, and always go long?

 

[nysestocks]

Quote from TraderD:

We try to find out,
How boxes lay out,
Perhaps when we do,
More work will be due.

But just for moment,
Lets think how we think,
We guess of proportions,
Of locations and notions.

So what is our hope?
To see once we see?
What else but a guessing,
Is now transgressing?

Instead hopping trees like monkeys,
And tasting all the fruits in sight,
Perhaps we can be men,
Not look at the shape - depart from insight!

Why box?
Why not square, circle, triangle?
You getting my angle?
Someone who sees, surely knows,
Some who guesses, still chance possesses?

First let say, indeed if I may
This not for all, intended for small
For those who so twain, to engage the brain
Then maybe just be, that they will just see

Sorry if guess, but it is no real mess
To see what in ink, one must strongly think
If no can do, unbuckle the shoe
And maybe then be, all not is what see

The box it is chose, not for the prose
But for the fact, that it is the act
A circle you say, why not today
Simple and sure, it has got no cure

Monkeys and tress, not same as the bees
For bees do work fact, and die in the act
While others eat such, the bees they make much
And store it for bee, in hive for to see

One can post if one like, if not one can hike
As mentioned in prose, no skin off my nose
But not will I give, to monkeys a sieve
While sit on their ass, not move off the grass

In order to make, one must get a shake
Harsh it may seem, but only then will one gleam
So look at the show, and think before know
For as always the box, will keep you your socks

 

[nysestocks]

Quote from jim2000:

Using your system, I hope I'm not wrong
Do you never go short, and always go long?

I can see how you came, up with the same
But when you do look, must see the whole book
To go but one way, is same as no turn the hay
And if you do doth, the hay it might rot

You short when you see, that down goes the bee
For bees but go down, when hive they do frown
And when they get in, they empty their chin
Out they must go, for more honey to show

Not matter it there, be it bull or it bear
But what does indeed, is the rare of the breed
When the box does appear, it depend on you here
And what it doth show, will as much as you know

For how can one fox, construct such a box
When monkeys you see, stay up in the tree
For me it is ease, for RN it’s a breeze
All else think it’s show, but little they know

Again I must say, here and today
This not for all, only the small
By now it is clear, as in wood live a deer
That those who no act, will not see the fact

So do what you may, and say what you say
But think for a bit, least you want to stay twit
A gamble you see, is not that easy
So open the eyes, some day reach the skies

 

[RainMann]

seems just a painting

done by some old fart

but look still ye further

the fart draws Descartes

 

[ScoobyStoo]

There once was a dog, who lived over the sea, upon threads he stumbled, which filled him with glee

He read all the words, and they did make sense, but then he looked deeper, and did become tense

His ideas were so simple, like the words that he read, but it must be more complex, he thought in his head

So off on a journey, he embarked with much haste, reading all that he could, but oh what a waste

For the options he saw, they came in all form, like the mountains up high, they were far from the norm

Even deeper he travelled, to the realms of the strange, with exotic young maidens, dependent on range

Then came on the scene, old Jack in his folly, a man of few words, he did look a right wally

Further that dog, did trot the wrong path, into mires and maelstroms, one dirty mud bath

Then the young dog stepped back, to survey all he saw, and reread the texts, just one time once more

He forgot all the maths, that had clouded his brain, and sought out the simple, to keep him more sane

And returned once again, one time in his mind, to a frame of his thought, to which he'd been blind

With much mirth he realised, he'd been right from the start, to bin all the bullshit, and just look at the chart

The wise ones were talking, in riddle and rhyme, of that which he knew, from the beginning of time

For an I and an I, can take you up high, if the bees are all busy, they wave sense a goodbye

But don't peddle that bike, just admire the view, and wait for the time, when the many are few

For those who can trade, the toss of a coin, small be their mouth, but big be their groin

A fool the dog was, to sing the hard song, how easy it is, he'd been right all along

The pressure is only, to bend like a reed, should more grass so tall, leap up from the seed

The box in a box, is a beautiful sight, as the monkeys come running, it shows off its might

Rothko paints wisdom, for those who can see, the colours may change, but a bee is a bee




So where now asks the dog, should his thinking be took

Do the foxes leave clues, in some form of book?

Of course they do, oh yes I do think

But without new tools, they'll be missed in a blink

 

[nysestocks]

Quote from RainMann:

seems just a painting

done by some old fart

but look still ye further

the fart draws Descartes

RM do now go, where many not know
Is it line one or two, maybe more than the few
For to do such good thing, one needs to have wing
And fly high above, where none see the dove

Yet maybe he say, that doubt is today
For one can mean two, as shown fore to you
But matter it not, for that is not what
NY meant at the start, by this scribbly fart

 

[nysestocks]

Quote from ScoobyStoo:

There once was a dog, who lived over the sea, upon threads he stumbled, which filled him with glee

He read all the words, and they did make sense, but then he looked deeper, and did become tense

His ideas were so simple, like the words that he read, but it must be more complex, he thought in his head

So off on a journey, he embarked with much haste, reading all that he could, but oh what a waste

For the options he saw, they came in all form, like the mountains up high, they were far from the norm

Even deeper he travelled, to the realms of the strange, with exotic young maidens, dependent on range

Then came on the scene, old Jack in his folly, a man of few words, he did look a right wally

Further that dog, did trot the wrong path, into mires and maelstroms, one dirty mud bath

Then the young dog stepped back, to survey all he saw, and reread the texts, just one time once more

He forgot all the maths, that had clouded his brain, and sought out the simple, to keep him more sane

And returned once again, one time in his mind, to a frame of his thought, to which he'd been blind

With much mirth he realised, he'd been right from the start, to bin all the bullshit, and just look at the chart

The wise ones were talking, in riddle and rhyme, of that which he knew, from the beginning of time

For an I and an I, can take you up high, if the bees are all busy, they wave sense a goodbye

But don't peddle that bike, just admire the view, and wait for the time, when the many are few

For those who can trade, the toss of a coin, small be their mouth, but big be their groin

A fool the dog was, to sing the hard song, how easy it is, he'd been right all along

The pressure is only, to bend like a reed, should more grass so tall, leap up from the seed

The box in a box, is a beautiful sight, as the monkeys come running, it shows off its might

Rothko paints wisdom, for those who can see, the colours may change, but a bee is a bee




So where now asks the dog, should his thinking be took

Do the foxes leave clues, in some form of book?

Of course they do, oh yes I do think

But without new tools, they'll be missed in a blink

Well what can I say, not all in a day
But write you do lust, and see it one must
I am also amaze, at how you did gaze
Down at the ink, and see that it's think

Now I must go, and think a bit so
For this deserves more, that just a lore
I will return, indeed with more churn
But back I will go, to show how it be so

You do the right then, read again and again
For once not enough, to gather the fluff
As NY did say, take what you may
Then bin the rest, for it is but jest

 

[nysestocks]

So we will start, with a little art
Strange it may seem, but it is no dream
For if you but glare, and even do stare
You might just find, what is behind

The theory you see, also covers the bee
One never would think, to see such in ink
When you work out, what is the shout
Then I will post, some text that has most

Funny it seem, and some say a dream
But after I read, I have to concede
That what is in ink, does make one think
For then you sill see, what is busy bee

 

[ScoobyStoo]

Your words speaketh clear
To a head full of beer
Of that I amaze
For all else is a haze

So thinketh I must
Or else I be bust
Mr Aws will attest
Maybe backwards is best

 

[fftk]

been up all night, so will keep this tight
interesting smudge, for it did make me budge
so uniform and smooth, surely in a groove
just a face in the crowd, although it can get quite loud
the hints have been said, now off to bed