duplex, poetry, and then some
Y'all should see the movie Duplex. Funny to the max. There's this old Irish lady who says things like "Knock it in, it's loose as a Dublin whore!" and "He stole me drawers once, for sniffin'!" And her parrot's name is Little Dickie, named after husband, whom she calls Big Dick. chuckle.
I'm so proud of my college entrance essay, but it's in my school file, so I can't share it today. I'll share another day.
Section leader auditions coming up...high B naturals...no. Me: "Sorry Mr. McCoy, I can't play this. I'd rather play the piccolo." Mr. McCoy: "That could be arranged." Me: "Fine, I'll play it." (this didn't really happen, if you're that dense.)
"A" Magazine is out and I encourage you all to buy one at lunch. If you're a senior, I'll buy you one and you can pay me back. Or not. I'm generous. ;-)
Here is a poem I wrote a couple nights ago. Pay close attention to the number of syllables in each line. I spent much time on patterns. Hope you like it.
Untitled
Bring out the moon, the purple sky
The dim, the dark, the beautiful
Let us dance and sing our song of
Never ending night
Hide my face behind a mask
Spin and flutter gracefully
Face the crowd of faceless men
Darkened by the night
Mystery, ecstacy
Dancing, spinning, floating
Dance with me in a dream
Taste the endless night
Bittersweet romance
One dance, then one more
Masquerade romance
Ends once off the floor
A kiss for the moon, the midnight sky
Commit my love to memory
I will never forget our dance
On glorious masquerade night
No, this poem was not inspired by Phantom of the Opera, though it does remind me of it. I didn't mean for this to be personal when I wrote it, but I can connect it to my own life. I disagree with Oscar Wilde's idea that art is not meant to have a greater meaning or purpose. Yes, art is beauty and should be admired as such, but where is life without a reason to live? Where is beauty without meaning? A poem is not worth anything if it is only a poem. If it gives you chills, makes you think, makes you feel, makes you remember...then it's worth something.
I'm getting my picture taken with my family today for the church directory. Then I change quickly into my dress and go to the concert.
***
I just left and kind of got stuck on the TV, and Matt erased my entry (though I retrieved it). I kind of blew up at him, and then he called me a b****!!!!!! I can't believe he said that. My mom was right there!!! What's he turning into? I'm so worried about him. Pray for me.
Sorry to end on such a note. I have to go change. Love y'all.
~mega-depressed all of a sudden~
I'm so proud of my college entrance essay, but it's in my school file, so I can't share it today. I'll share another day.
Section leader auditions coming up...high B naturals...no. Me: "Sorry Mr. McCoy, I can't play this. I'd rather play the piccolo." Mr. McCoy: "That could be arranged." Me: "Fine, I'll play it." (this didn't really happen, if you're that dense.)
"A" Magazine is out and I encourage you all to buy one at lunch. If you're a senior, I'll buy you one and you can pay me back. Or not. I'm generous. ;-)
Here is a poem I wrote a couple nights ago. Pay close attention to the number of syllables in each line. I spent much time on patterns. Hope you like it.
Untitled
Bring out the moon, the purple sky
The dim, the dark, the beautiful
Let us dance and sing our song of
Never ending night
Hide my face behind a mask
Spin and flutter gracefully
Face the crowd of faceless men
Darkened by the night
Mystery, ecstacy
Dancing, spinning, floating
Dance with me in a dream
Taste the endless night
Bittersweet romance
One dance, then one more
Masquerade romance
Ends once off the floor
A kiss for the moon, the midnight sky
Commit my love to memory
I will never forget our dance
On glorious masquerade night
No, this poem was not inspired by Phantom of the Opera, though it does remind me of it. I didn't mean for this to be personal when I wrote it, but I can connect it to my own life. I disagree with Oscar Wilde's idea that art is not meant to have a greater meaning or purpose. Yes, art is beauty and should be admired as such, but where is life without a reason to live? Where is beauty without meaning? A poem is not worth anything if it is only a poem. If it gives you chills, makes you think, makes you feel, makes you remember...then it's worth something.
I'm getting my picture taken with my family today for the church directory. Then I change quickly into my dress and go to the concert.
***
I just left and kind of got stuck on the TV, and Matt erased my entry (though I retrieved it). I kind of blew up at him, and then he called me a b****!!!!!! I can't believe he said that. My mom was right there!!! What's he turning into? I'm so worried about him. Pray for me.
Sorry to end on such a note. I have to go change. Love y'all.
~mega-depressed all of a sudden~