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Louise
Over 90 days ago
United Kingdom
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Alan Alexander Milne (18 January 1882 – 31 January 1956) was a British author, best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh and for various children's poems. Milne was a noted writer, primarily as a playwright, before the huge success of Pooh overshadowed all his previous work.
I've chosen one of his 'Winnie-the Pooh' poems because I like it...
Sneezles
Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
The examined his chest
For a rash,
and the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts of conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, “If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go.”
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said, “If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue.”
Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them today?”
I've chosen one of his 'Winnie-the Pooh' poems because I like it...
Sneezles
Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
The examined his chest
For a rash,
and the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts of conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, “If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go.”
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said, “If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue.”
Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them today?”
Active Ink Slinger
All the time, if I find it hard going and don't like the writing and am not into it, I'll abandon a book. If it's badly written or I hate the lead character/protaganist because they are unbelieveable or annoying the 'cr@p' out of me then I'll abandon a book. If a book is not labled as a Christian type book and I buy it and have to read through pages of 'Christian' beliefs ,then I'll abandon it.
Active Ink Slinger
Quote by Circle_SomethingQuote by Louise
okay so I'm not all crazy lol...
Oh no, you're completely crazy, it's just that you blend in so well with all the other crazy folk here that you seem normal. Well, let's face it, normal is relative.
True that...at least I haven't got to the 'crack avoiding on sidewalks/pavements' stage. I love this thread.
Active Ink Slinger
Quote by DirtyMartiniQuote by Louise
oooh I have a weird shopping one...I have to group wet items together and dry items together on the conveyer belt so I can pack them together.
That makes sense actually...I pack all the perishable items together, so I can just carry those bags over to the refrigerator when I get home...the other stuff gets put by the shelves...makes perfect sense to me...
Speaking of laundry stuff...I used to go out with a girl who would fold her clothes before putting them in the dryer...she insisted they came out less wrinkled later...I just don't know...
okay so I'm not all crazy lol...
Active Ink Slinger
Quote by Circle_Something
I have several: when shopping (a slight expansion of what I've already said), items must be stacked in order of size (smallest to biggest), must be completely straight and square, the next customer sign must be straight and I must be able to see the items at all times. Before sleeping: I must have a browse on the internet beforehand, using my phone, even if I've been using my computer to browse, in fact, I'm doing that right now. Making tea: cups must be in the correct order. Saving a word document or video game: this must be done a few times before exiting the program or switching the computer/console off. I have more, but too many to mention. If I sound crazy, I am. Wouldn't have it any other way
oooh I have a weird shopping one...I have to group wet items together and dry items together on the conveyer belt so I can pack them together.
I also have a way of doing my washing. All our underwear gets grouped together, all our shirts..if they go on the clothes horse mixed it really freaks me out and I have to move them.
Active Ink Slinger
Melvin Beaunorus Tolson (February 6, 1898 – August 29, 1966) was an American Modernist poet, educator, columnist, and politician. His work concentrated on the experience of African Americans and includes several long historical poems. His work was influenced by his study of the Harlem
Satchmo
BY MELVIN B. TOLSON
King Oliver of New Orleans
has kicked the bucket, but he left behind
old Satchmo with his red-hot horn
to syncopate the heart and mind.
The honky-tonks in Storyville
have turned to ashes, have turned to dust,
but old Satchmo is still around
like Uncle Sam’s IN GOD WE TRUST.
Where, oh, where is Bessie Smith,
with her heart as big as the blues of truth?
Where, oh, where is Mister Jelly Roll,
with his Cadillac and diamond tooth?
Where, oh, where is Papa Handy
With his blue notes a-dragging from bar to bar?
Where, oh where is bulletproof Leadbelly
with his tall tales and 12-string guitar?
Old Hip Cats,
when you sang and played the blues
the night Satchmo was born,
did you know hypodermic needles in Rome
couldn’t hoodoo him away from his horn?
Wyatt Earp’s legend, John Henry’s, too,
is a dare and a bet to old Satchmo
when his groovy blues put headlines in the news
from the Gold Coast to cold Moscow.
Old Satchmo’s
gravelly voice and tapping foot and crazy notes
set my soul on fire.
If I climbed
the seventy-seven steps of the Seventh
Heaven, Satchmo’s high C would carry me higher!
Are you hip to this, Harlem? Are you hip?
On Judgment Day, Gabriel will say
after he blows his horn:
“I’d be the greatest trumpeter in the Universe
if old Satchmo had never been born!”
Satchmo
BY MELVIN B. TOLSON
King Oliver of New Orleans
has kicked the bucket, but he left behind
old Satchmo with his red-hot horn
to syncopate the heart and mind.
The honky-tonks in Storyville
have turned to ashes, have turned to dust,
but old Satchmo is still around
like Uncle Sam’s IN GOD WE TRUST.
Where, oh, where is Bessie Smith,
with her heart as big as the blues of truth?
Where, oh, where is Mister Jelly Roll,
with his Cadillac and diamond tooth?
Where, oh, where is Papa Handy
With his blue notes a-dragging from bar to bar?
Where, oh where is bulletproof Leadbelly
with his tall tales and 12-string guitar?
Old Hip Cats,
when you sang and played the blues
the night Satchmo was born,
did you know hypodermic needles in Rome
couldn’t hoodoo him away from his horn?
Wyatt Earp’s legend, John Henry’s, too,
is a dare and a bet to old Satchmo
when his groovy blues put headlines in the news
from the Gold Coast to cold Moscow.
Old Satchmo’s
gravelly voice and tapping foot and crazy notes
set my soul on fire.
If I climbed
the seventy-seven steps of the Seventh
Heaven, Satchmo’s high C would carry me higher!
Are you hip to this, Harlem? Are you hip?
On Judgment Day, Gabriel will say
after he blows his horn:
“I’d be the greatest trumpeter in the Universe
if old Satchmo had never been born!”
Active Ink Slinger
Quote by magnificent1rascal
"Peppier" is a funny-looking word. In my opinion, rather than "with more pep," "peppier" should be used to describe the waiter who comes around wielding a gargantuan pepper mill and offering "fresh ground pepper" as if it were magic pixie dust.
Pepé, the pretentious, portly peppier with a prominent proboscis, was particularly parsimonious in peppering, his pharaonic phallus producing a paltry portion of the precious provision over my pappardelle pasta.
Thanks to Gypsy and Louise for their contributions to this bit of frivolity.
Active Ink Slinger
Stephen Dunn (born 1939) is Pulitzer prize winning American poet.
The Kiss by Stephen Dunn
She pressed her lips to mind.
—a typo
How many years I must have yearned
for someone’s lips against mind.
Pheromones, newly born, were floating
between us. There was hardly any air.
She kissed me again, reaching that place
that sends messages to toes and fingertips,
then all the way to something like home.
Some music was playing on its own.
Nothing like a woman who knows
to kiss the right thing at the right time,
then kisses the things she’s missed.
How had I ever settled for less?
I was thinking this is intelligence,
this is the wisest tongue
since the Oracle got into a Greek’s ear,
speaking sense. It’s the Good,
defining itself. I was out of my mind.
She was in. We married as soon as we could.
The Kiss by Stephen Dunn
She pressed her lips to mind.
—a typo
How many years I must have yearned
for someone’s lips against mind.
Pheromones, newly born, were floating
between us. There was hardly any air.
She kissed me again, reaching that place
that sends messages to toes and fingertips,
then all the way to something like home.
Some music was playing on its own.
Nothing like a woman who knows
to kiss the right thing at the right time,
then kisses the things she’s missed.
How had I ever settled for less?
I was thinking this is intelligence,
this is the wisest tongue
since the Oracle got into a Greek’s ear,
speaking sense. It’s the Good,
defining itself. I was out of my mind.
She was in. We married as soon as we could.