just ignore and let this one die

Just trying to make people laugh - and usually succeeding.

Pep (People enjoy it, until it's themself that is being laughed at.)

Yes, but did she describe my physique to you in detail?

Pep (Or did my captivating smile distract her too much?)

Among School Children (WB Yeats)

I

I walk through the long schoolroom questioning;
A kind old nun in a white hood replies;
The children learn to cipher and to sing,
To study reading-books and histories,
To cut and sew, be neat in everything
In the best modern way - the children's eyes
In momentary wonder stare upon
A sixty-year-old smiling public man.

II

I dream of a Ledaean body, bent
Above a sinking fire. a tale that she
Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event
That changed some childish day to tragedy -
Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent
Into a sphere from youthful sympathy,
Or else, to alter Plato's parable,
Into the yolk and white of the one shell.

III

And thinking of that fit of grief or rage
I look upon one child or t'other there
And wonder if she stood so at that age -
For even daughters of the swan can share
Something of every paddler's heritage -
And had that colour upon cheek or hair,
And thereupon my heart is driven wild:
She stands before me as a living child.

IV

Her present image floats into the mind -
Did Quattrocento finger fashion it
Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind
And took a mess of shadows for its meat?
And I though never of Ledaean kind
Had pretty plumage once - enough of that,
Better to smile on all that smile, and show
There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow.

V

What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap
Honey of generation had betrayed,
And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape
As recollection or the drug decide,
Would think her Son, did she but see that shape
With sixty or more winters on its head,
A compensation for the pang of his birth,
Or the uncertainty of his setting forth?

VI

Plato thought nature but a spume that plays
Upon a ghostly paradigm of things;
Solider Aristotle played the taws
Upon the bottom of a king of kings;
World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras
Fingered upon a fiddle-stick or strings
What a star sang and careless Muses heard:
Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird.

VII

Both nuns and mothers worship images,
But those the candles light are not as those
That animate a mother's reveries,
But keep a marble or a bronze repose.
And yet they too break hearts - O Presences
That passion, piety or affection knows,
And that all heavenly glory symbolise -
O self-born mockers of man's enterprise;

VIII

Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Pep (It's the last line that is relevant to your comment, Brenda, but the rest is generally apropos as well)

If the one in the middle is Rhonda then be prepared for a torrent of invective and wishes for a painful and prolonged termination.

Pep (On the other hand, if it's Scylla then a new depth of hypocrisy has been plumbed.)

PS "In my bedroom one will find a mystic park with trees growing from the corners and an occasional branch emerging from the walls, complete with street lamps." I suggest you stick to the bad acting and forget about the abysmal screenplays, sunshine.

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
I wish, I wish he’d go away...

When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn’t see him there at all!
Go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door... (slam!)

Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away

Hell yeah, I can believe it...

I have to try the studio one of these days...

hmmmm...I'd say you do not look happy to be in the Coliseum....

*waves to Duncan/Konu*

Hope all is well in your world.

*hugs* You looked magnificent. It was a day to remember.

I never tire of your story, or of these pics. *smiles*

What a magical night.

Because you didn't want to miss one moment of the Forum's last hours?

Well, I for one am very glad you did.

So, here's a little shiny for you:

*blows Amara a kiss*

See you inworld.

GO COLTS!



*whispers "but I'm really rooting for the Saints"*

/ducks and runs for cover

ooooo...I'd forgotten all about that league. Nice pics.

Any fire station would be proud to have Boomer on their team.

/me smiles

From Community Standards:

I don't want you to be bored, but I do want to see more pics.

cool

very pretty.

*sniff sniff* love this!

we all are, sometimes.

Since it's Super Bowl Sunday...



and this looked like it was a lot of work to construct!