damppanties
Tinkle, twinkle
- Joined
- May 7, 2002
- Posts
- 16,276
There's Nothing Shereads Loves More Than A Footnote
- Thread starter bluebell
- Start date
ABSTRUSE
Cirque du Freak
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2003
- Posts
- 50,094
Do I need this just before going to bed??!
Yes. Yes you do.
damppanties
Tinkle, twinkle
- Joined
- May 7, 2002
- Posts
- 16,276
ABSTRUSE
Cirque du Freak
- Joined
- Mar 4, 2003
- Posts
- 50,094
I wish I could send all my dreams to you tonight.
Night.
I've seen Bollywood, no thanks.
gauchecritic
When there are grey skies
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2002
- Posts
- 7,076
bluebell
brownie-hearted meanie
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2006
- Posts
- 4,558
Once upon a thesaurus, there was a little mousetrap named Bellicose. Bellicose had dreams. I mean, real dreams. She longed to perform the song Memory from Cats in front of a wonderful, adoring audience (with the perfect accompanist, too). She wished for a giant sandbox that she could flap her metal jaws around in for hours. She yearned to visit Hershey, Pennsylvania and demand to know why their chocolate sales could suck so much that they had to close down so many plants, make people lose their jobs, and outsource the chocolate making to countries that, perhaps, knew how to make plastic things better than chocolately things. She aspired to assist in locating a clean, cheap, renewable energy source for the whole world. Yes, Bellicose had dreams.
But she lived in this closet. And the person who put her there wanted her to squeeze little mouse-y torsos, which she thought a very mean thing indeed. Luckily she was languishing in a dark corner and figured she'd been forgotten. Which was very good for the mice but very bad for her world of dreams.
One day, the owner (a proponent of the mouse-y torso squishing), was sweeping out the closet and getting rid of all the mooey shoes. Out skittered Bellicose!
**
Epilogue:
Bellicose never did get to sing Memory before an audience. But she did squish and clamp onto the toes of one itinerant cat urine salesman.
I you, Sher.
Just sayin'.
But she lived in this closet. And the person who put her there wanted her to squeeze little mouse-y torsos, which she thought a very mean thing indeed. Luckily she was languishing in a dark corner and figured she'd been forgotten. Which was very good for the mice but very bad for her world of dreams.
One day, the owner (a proponent of the mouse-y torso squishing), was sweeping out the closet and getting rid of all the mooey shoes. Out skittered Bellicose!
**
Epilogue:
Bellicose never did get to sing Memory before an audience. But she did squish and clamp onto the toes of one itinerant cat urine salesman.
I
you, Sher.Just sayin'.
bluebell
brownie-hearted meanie
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2006
- Posts
- 4,558
Out of Hiding
by Li-Young Lee
Someone said my name in the garden,
while I grew smaller
in the spreading shadow of the peonies,
grew larger by my absence to another,
grew older among the ants, ancient
under the opening heads of the flowers,
new to myself, and stranger.
When I heard my name again, it sounded far,
like the name of the child next door,
or a favorite cousin visiting for the summer,
while the quiet seemed my true name,
a near and inaudible singing
born of hidden ground.
Quiet to quiet, I called back.
And the birds declared my whereabouts all morning.
by Li-Young Lee
Someone said my name in the garden,
while I grew smaller
in the spreading shadow of the peonies,
grew larger by my absence to another,
grew older among the ants, ancient
under the opening heads of the flowers,
new to myself, and stranger.
When I heard my name again, it sounded far,
like the name of the child next door,
or a favorite cousin visiting for the summer,
while the quiet seemed my true name,
a near and inaudible singing
born of hidden ground.
Quiet to quiet, I called back.
And the birds declared my whereabouts all morning.
Last edited:
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