soooooooooo, it's 1:30am. the rain's pounding on the windows and the computer is quietly hum-hum-humming away. as promised, i'm putting up a children's poem...which in a roundabout sort of way is much easier than posting about what i'm doing, which is a whole lot of not so much. on to zee' poem...
refrigerator gnome
by me
its pitch dark as
you hear the steps.
youre up and at em.
no time to rest!
round the milk,
past a dish,
the sad remains
of last nights fish.
over an apple.
off the bread.
under the celr'y.
duck your head!
trip on a carrot.
slip in the butter.
avoid the loads
of spice and clutter.
snowboard cross
the whipped up cream
soft as any
cottony dream.
hit the switch,
the fridgz alight
for sweet wee snacks
this late at night.
i also was inspired by broccoli and casper's SG name, so you can read her story... Casper. who knows when these wacked story ideas will strike?
refrigerator gnome
by me
its pitch dark as
you hear the steps.
youre up and at em.
no time to rest!
round the milk,
past a dish,
the sad remains
of last nights fish.
over an apple.
off the bread.
under the celr'y.
duck your head!
trip on a carrot.
slip in the butter.
avoid the loads
of spice and clutter.
snowboard cross
the whipped up cream
soft as any
cottony dream.
hit the switch,
the fridgz alight
for sweet wee snacks
this late at night.
i also was inspired by broccoli and casper's SG name, so you can read her story... Casper. who knows when these wacked story ideas will strike?
Evol4Love and i have a bet going, so please, be honest!
mwah.
I love you. And I mean that.
RE: "cool, this just went up two minutes ago, and weirdly enough here i am at your door. and i really want to see whatever it is that you have which is ill-fitting and trashy. as for depriving yourself? man-o-man, i don't think you should, unless of course it lessens the time you have to express, feel, explore all the deprivations you don't want to miss. "
I added a photo of the article of clothing I'm referring to JUST for you.
One has to choose carfully what one deprives oneself of and what one indulges in.
Fucking Zen Buddists selfishly, shamelessly indulging in Nirvana... *shaking head*
;P lol
and! And.. because I love writers and I know you'll appreciate this...
here's a poem that fell out of my head one day... I'll be posting it as a journal entry eventually.
"The Second Half"
When all the king's horses
and all the king's men
gave up putting humpty together again...
They left him behind, they left him to fend.
Unable to move, he couldn't defend.
His friends just didn't know quite what to do.
They thought and they plotted
They furrowed and stewed.
They got all retarded and ran in the nude.
They came back to humpty,
Still there on the ground.
They observed his predicament
and once again frowned,
Put their hands on their hips
and paced all around.
"I KNOW!" Said a girl,
about the age of 23...
"We'll paint the bits of shell
and we'll hang them in a tree!
We'll hang silver chimes
and some pretty trinkets too!
His song will last forever,
longer than me or one of you."
What a way to exit,
what a way to finish life.
"He couldn't have wished for more,"
said his sad but pretty wife.
So they hung poor Humpty Dumpty
from the nearest willow tree.
The sun shone through his painted shell.
His song went out to sea.
And once the children overcame how creepy it all seemed,
They laughed in happy anarchy
'Til their clothes ripped at the seams.
They came up with giddy nursery rhymes
And invented silly games.
They wrote each other novels
And they stole each other's names.
They danced beneath the Humpty Tree
For generations many.
They remembered how their king gave up,
Despising tyranny.
They told their children of the story untill it came to pass
That the second half was long forgotten
Of the egg without an ass.
*wipes sweat from brow*
That's the longest reply I have ever submitted in my life.
Ever.