Ophelia's Nun

DopeBeastie

I am, I am. Wouldn't want to help it if I could.

I see the tragedy link up there... this thread gets so big, so fast.... I feel to be the last long distance runner.





Howdy miss BE... I do like the poem, 'specially in color.

xoxo

Being Enlightened

"Hi-dee-ho" and howdy, rowdy, chowdy, mowdy, bowdy bacatchew!

Danka, methought the colou;)rs were much purdier than the old beige on brown so, gave them a wee bit of life by lighting them up a bit .

Piece & louvre, all!

FinsburyParkCarrots

When you are tired of your weariness,
and all that pain demands cannot command
your patience any more, you start to bless
instead of censure foolishness and fond
comedy. Then, laughing with the bare
brazenness of one who knew life's dark
recesses but, in time, saw not to care
to shout its broad importance, you will hark
the music of your little life and death.
Soon, turning from great catastrophic bangs
of swallowing tornadoes, you'll gain breath
for songs of truest tone, in comic things.
A flower laughs a song upon a grave,
A laugh sounds out the deepest cry we have.

DopeBeastie

lives opened and trashed
look, ma, watch me crash
no time to question
why'd nothing last?
grasping hold on
hold tight and fast
soon be over
and i will be blessed

let the oceans swell

exhale

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
When you are tired of your weariness,
and all that pain demands cannot command
your patience any more, you start to bless
instead of censure foolishness and fond
comedy. Then, laughing with the bare
brazenness of one who knew life's dark
recesses but, in time, saw not to care
to shout its broad importance, you will hark
the music of your little life and death.
Soon, turning from great catastrophic bangs
of swallowing tornadoes, you'll gain breath
for songs of truest tone, in comic things.
A flower laughs a song upon a grave,
A laugh sounds out the deepest cry we have.

strong, but true.

thank you for sharing

FinsburyParkCarrots

Originally posted by PastaNazi
lives opened and trashed
look, ma, watch me crash
no time to question
why'd nothing last?
grasping hold on
hold tight and fast
soon be over
and i will be blessed

let the oceans swell

Good to have some Ed on the thread.

DopeBeastie

tsis says it's this...

01. Last Exit
Written By: Vedder, Ament, Gossard, McCready, Abbruzzese
Album: Vitalogy
Release Date: 1994-12-06
Found On: Vitalogy


lives opened and trashed..."look ma, watch me crash"...
no time to question...why'd nothing last...
grasp and hold on...we're dyin' fast...
soon be over...and i will relent...

let the ocean swell


what do you think it is?

FinsburyParkCarrots

Well, I've always sung...

"Ribboosupp eee trayyysh
Lipsuction creche
Nine timetah question
Why nuthin' lashh
Gasper hold on
The tide waves splash
Soon be over
And I will Mabel at last"

But tsis may be more advised in their interpretation, of course...

jk
:D:D

DopeBeastie

tsis is widely incorrect, imo

DopeBeastie

more peace for my friends...


Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells



'floyd

FinsburyParkCarrots

satin sound across space
echoes of bodies over and over
knowing together the rhythm of the moon

silken hips move in time
oh
slow
one double nebula sway
one pulse
found by chance
on a parabolic mirror
slightly readjusted

sound, mmm
lunar sound
lunaluna
oh feel her gravity
she's moving now
sound and energy colours the vision inside
close my eyes

golden hair across my chest
sapphire eyes glittering
simples of our moon


astrally
forever
in all dimensions
sounding
"Bonnie and Clyde....
Bonnie and Clyde"

FinsburyParkCarrots

I counted thirty seven veins on the left cheek
forty one veins on the right
The nose was a throbbing seminar in the principle of bifurcation
a network, a spaghetti junction of puceness
and the teeth
seemed to overbite and rest somewhere near the chin
like sallow dossers about to jump a bridge
and the hair was definitely dyed
I don't think it was meant to be pink
but there were definite tinges around the temples
and the bouffant blowwave was a Thatcherite tribute
grammar school boy done good in parliament
with the hairstyle of a junior transport minister
and the white shirt washed by Commons staff
and the port stain still present on the gut from the night of the fox hunting vote
a vote to have a vote to have a vote
which he lost
and which didn't please his farming constituency in the surgery the next Tuesday

and I counted ten ports
four double scotches
eight havanas
twenty four and a half mentions of the single currency
eighteen of Sangatte
fifty nine of his dog, Cyril
a good measure of reference to the golf club
and finally one for a cab to Ronnie Scott's
which I saw him enter
it already occupied by a mysterious blonde

FinsburyParkCarrots

"Anyway, apropos The Honourable Smythely Smythe-Smythe, ahem, I'm not conflabbing extraneous matter, so keep this under your goggles, but a certain personage from the Ministry relates that - and this is, you know, ahem - how shall we put this - not for PMQs on Tuesday - that - said Smythe was seen exiting a certain establishment in the Mayfair district at four in the morning in, er, let's say, ah, reassigned gender of dressage...lovely floral print job actually...a right old dolly rocker...agreeable breastages for a chap. Staples from head office wasn't quite sure about the Safeways supermarket bag under the arm... full of clinking stuff...and a carrot...looked like it was a Finsbury Park job...very big....."

dyaogirl

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
satin sound across space
echoes of bodies over and over
knowing together the rhythm of the moon

silken hips move in time
oh
slow
one double nebula sway
one pulse
found by chance
on a parabolic mirror
slightly readjusted

sound, mmm
lunar sound
lunaluna
oh feel her gravity
she's moving now
sound and energy colours the vision inside
close my eyes

golden hair across my chest
sapphire eyes glittering
simples of our moon


astrally
forever
in all dimensions
sounding
"Bonnie and Clyde....
Bonnie and Clyde"

Luna’s breathing
Beam-lit reception
Beckons
The dance

Star energy pulsing in
rhythmic recognition
Of lovers
within seemless
motion
The universe enfolded
to her
as his touch.

She curtseys
He bows
In love’s eternal perfection of
The dance

FinsburyParkCarrots

He's in lurrrrrrrrrveeeee......



Thank you, truly, my darling Julie.

dyaogirl

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
He's in lurrrrrrrrrveeeee......



Thank you, truly, my darling Julie.

And so is she. His touch enfolds the universe to her.

DopeBeastie

edit



<bats eyes>

FinsburyParkCarrots

I started this a couple of months ago and I've been thinking I should resurrect it and carry it on...

So, recap...

SCENE: A park bench in a city district in the North East of England. This bench has two occupants: Tam and Nelly. Tam's about five five: he's bony legged. Sandy flyaway hair. He's got brown cords and a grey terylene shirt on. The collars are jumbos. Seventies jobs. He wears heavy rimmed old style National Health glasses. That's right, a domestic reference. National Health. He keeps one spectacle wing attached to the frame with sellotape, but the tape's coming loose and he's always having to lift up his bony hand from his knee to pinch the tape tighter, to keep the glasses balanced on his nose. Nelly's much shorter. Cuts her own white hair. It's very skinned in places, has tails in others. She wears a Rupert the Bear sweater. She has black jeans and flip flops. he's fifty-three, she fifty-nine. In front of them, as they stare into space - each munching on a limp cheese sandwich - two boys, about fourteen, are beating each other with long wooden boards protruding from which are nine inch nails. Both lads are laughing as one swings and misses the other.

NELLY: A String of Pearls, that's what it was. A la da dee da la....

(pause)

TAM: And I said to the sergeant, the bus wasn't going to stop for me. I'm on disability. If I hadn't have rapped out with the stick it would have gone straight past.

NELLY: What?

TAM: The bus! Not another one for two hours. I would have had to walk all way to Brockley Whins with me bad you-know-what. (Pause) Look at them fokkin' kids. He'll have the other one's eye out in a minute. (Shouts at the boys.) Oi! Ya little bastards. I'll tell ye mams, the pair o yees. Shouldn't you be in school anyroad? Don't yoww tell ME ta fokk off, or I'll come over and wallop you one, straight across the 'ead.

(pause)

So, they said, Mr Carr, we're arresting you for criminal damage and being drunk and disorderly. They'd taken fokkin' samples in that cop shop and the devil knows what, and I said have yow not heard of harrassment, 'cos you're harrassin' me...

NELLY: Or was it In The Mood? A la da dee da la... (pause) I'm cold.

TAM: You're always cold.

NELLY: Don't know why we always come here, day after day. Let's go back.

TAM: We cannant go back! Remember? Big George with the pitbull? What you said about his missus, even if it was true and half the estate knows it too? And what ya did? Knockin' the windows through in the flat? And yow knowin' he's a friggin' psychopath?

NELLY: Like you did in the bus? You could've got jail for that!

TAM: But I didn't. They were in the wrong. I was a man with a disability. They should have stopped.

NELLY: You cut that woman with that glass. She was sitting just inside. She was pregnant too. You should have got time for that. I've got time. Fokkin' time being with you. Who'd have thought. Thirty years.

TAM: Rhapsody in Blue.

NELLY: That was it. (Smiles.) A la da da a la da da a la dee dee...

TAM: No, it's a la da da a la de de a la da da...

NELLY: No, it fokkin' ain't!!!! It's a la la da da da la la a de de de...Oi! Yow two little bastards. Stop laughin' at us and get back to knockin' shite out of each other or I'll tell your mams...Don't you dare use that sort of language to a woman, yow foul mouthed little fokkers!!!!

TAM: Yow tell 'em Nell! haw haw!!! I love comin' here!

NELLY: So do I. Another sandwich, love?

TAM: Yes please. Don't drop it on the floor like the last one. I could swear I tasted doghairs off of it....

NELLY: Get your own bleedin' sandwich.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Christ, where was my mind back in April, when I wrote that? LOL

No, after all, I'll let it lie and get the old wordpad out to write something totally different for tonight...

FinsburyParkCarrots

Malvolio is peering through the bars
of his impromptu dungeon in the yard,
smelling when Sir Topaz lights cigars
and groaning, "Oh my lady has been hard
on me, when all I did was don some socks
of yellow colour, hoping I might woo
her, as her letter said - oh, what cruel shocks
await me now? Pray tell: what will ensue?"

"Oh pitiable fool", Sir Topaz breathes,
softly through the bars, "Olivia
will doubtless free you. I am one who grieves
to see myself complicit in the snare
that led you to your cell, but then you would
proclaim yourself my lady's favourite.
In the hearts of fools it's understood
That favour's graced in kingliness of wit

and lowliness of stance. I am a fool:
Yes, I am Feste, jester, in disguise
dressed as counsel, come to pass you gruel
and wisdom of the holy and the wise.
Fool counsel for a fool." With that, Malvolio
Seethes here, "I shall revenge you, every one."
All the times I read this tale I know
A tragic end survives its comic tone.