Saturday, March 27, 2010



Doesn't the word just make you shiver?

I looove dragons-- books, comics, drawings, and now movies.

Specifically, How to Train Your Dragon, the newest DreamWorks movie-- This is better than any other DreamWorks movie I have ever seen! It beats Shrek, Over the Hedge, Madagascar, etc.
I honestly almost cried in the middle. And at the end.
And now I really really want a dragon.

My poor boyfriend has been informed that I am leaving him for Hiccough the Horrible, So he may be trying to find a dragon this weekend.

I was amazed at how much I really really wanted to live in that village and ride a dragon-- it's an animated movie! These powerful, intelligent, glorious creatures were so enthralling, even though they were animated lizards (Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile... ). The story was wonderful, the script and dialog perfection, and the voice talent spot-on. Add that to beautiful 3-D animation (I don't much care for 3-D but I forgot it wasn't a regular movie) with water drops, licks of fire, and perfect wind effects.... wow. And the music near to broke my heart-- it was beautiful.
I was sad the movie was over.
I seriously have a crush on Hiccough.
Great Movie, go see.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Last Poem

Ok, so this one is different-- a sort of mock epic, whirlwind rhyming style.
Dr. Seausicalish

When Sara sings the world is shook
Divas stop and Baritones look
to see who makes such gracious sounds
so far beyond their measly rounds
Sara sings rarely now, her powers to move beyond
her control sing that fateful day
When fate Ordained
What Sara would sing.
If began as a lilting bit, sung as she walked to the fair
she loved the way the birds joined in
and a breeze tousled her hair
A Patron of the arts, so smart
and dashing was he, heard her singing and grabbed her arm and towed her
to the jubilee
A bit confused, the lass followed, still humming that sweet little tune
and soon enough what had been a cloudy day could now belong to June
He took her to the stage, told the Soprano to Step Aside
all eyes where on the Patron, all eyes opened Wide
He shoved her forward into the light
"Your voice is heaven,my dear.
Now sing for the entire world,
this is a joy that All should hear."
Sara gave a nervous smile--what's a peasant girl to do
When forced to perform like so?
She opened her mouth and complied, singing a little tune
No words had she, never had a single syllable form from her tongue
Only Melody but that is enough
The Crowd grew silent, the Orchestra stopped
Even the Soprano shut her mouth
The breeze stilled, the people stood, and birds slowly gathered round
as the notes reached a soaring height and then all teh songs birds joined
as before the peoples' very eyes, a glorious scene was formed
The audience gasped as one, when a castle Swam into view
set in a landscape of Cliffs and Waterfalls, a fallow deer or two
and a dizzying array of notes fell from our dear girls tongue
while small frogs joined the chorus, pipping and rum-tum-tum
A cricked added her contribution as well-water obligingly trickles
A brook moved closer to join the symphony as the branches picked up a rattle
The wind was eager to join the World that Sara so obligingly sang
and she began to dance and twirl around the girl and o'er again
The waters moved in closer, most the fair was wet
The creatures moved up higher, their part was not done yet
Dear Sara, her eyes still shut, let the music move on through
as the wind began a spirited gavotte that took hats and umbrellas too
The wind began to whip and whirl
and still Sara sang as a storm began to grow as the notes turned deeper in
The waters roes, the wind did howl, clouds rolled up from Calais
Still Sara sang her song on that fateful day
The spell-bound audience was awakened
by a torrent of rain
splashing merely, its own little tune
soon would turn more grim
The people ran for cover, then moved to higher ground
as they watched Sara's song taking o'er the town
For fateful hours it seemed they stood
until on poor lad asked
"What of the Singing Girl?
Is she still in the mess?"
The people gasped as they realized--
they still heard her Voice
Sara still sang below
While all of Nature had joined the chorus
A brave lad said "I'll rescue her!"
His mother said "Shut up!"
They all looked to the Patron
Who had forced the singer up
on them. "A witch!" he exclaimed with some regret
"She should be fine-- just a little wet."
"She's no witch! She has a gift, a song all want to hear!
And it seems till now she hid is well, singing far from ears!"
The people were in confusion-- should they let the singer drown?
Or risk any one their own in the slowly sinking town?
Just as sudden, the storm stopped and one pure sound held through
A delicate, simply melody cut the silence in two
as the clouds rolled our and the waters moved
back to their rightful places
The birds settled down on the now silent trees
amazement bright on the peoples faces
They crept down to the ruined fair
to see if the maiden still stood
And there she was, hardly mussed hair
thinking "Did I sing good?"
She had not seen the clouds
The winds barely kissed her
So deep had Sara gone
lost in eternal bliss
of heaven's true song
They stared and started and nervously hummed
as she slowly oped her eyes
to see all the destruction
"What happened!" she longed to cry
A kindly matron took the maid
gently off the stage
off behind a toppled tent
and quietly explained
Sara understaood
she knew the power in a song
She promised, best she could
to keep quiet from now on
The lady sighed with relief
told the girl no to worry
that she was free to go, this wasn't her fault
but that Sara might want to hurry
Sara nodded, opened her mouth, then shut it at the matron's gasp
Instead of singing for her horse, Sara merely gestured to ask
The horse was brought and Sara rode
fourth from the jubilee
The people sighed and went to work
cleaning the debris
The Patron was duely embarrassed
he paid much for his impulsive act
And Sara still came occasionally to town
wearing a broad and hiding hat
She still sings for the woods
the birds do love her sound
But Sara never sings where human ears abound
She has a gift, a story
that no words could e'er express
And so when Sara sings
only she knows the Rest.

More Poems

Poem 4: The Sea

I am the Sea
                  Crashing, waving, whispering a song
                  Dancing through dream
                 And screaming through night mares
                 I can be good and gentle and lovely
                 But I am not, nor shall ever be, tame…
                 I can give—but I shall take as well

I am passion
                Those who know me have passions that are deeper than my depths
                No other can take my place
                Nothing else has as much as I

I am quiet
              Contemplative moonlit nights
              Girls who long to  know the mermaids' songs
              And dreamers in the dusk

But I am Alive
             Moving, ebbing, swaying, flowing
            Carrying, holding, fish,
            whales, seals, sharks,
            plankton, salt, and then some

Poem 5: A Thought

A thought, a twist, a turn, a catch
--this must be some delusion!
I though I was done
With this particular thought.
Only a thought.
Not a Crush
Or a Dream
Or a fancy even
But it refuses to leave!
Should I look away?
Try to squash it
like a bug?
Ignore it for all I am worth!
A snare, a trap, a trip-wire
--Growing not better but worse with time!
Cautiously creeping toward contact..
a letter!
a note...
Can I trust?
my heart and mind and self not to be a child?
To drop the pen, turn out the light
And leave what is alone.
And slumber.
Not to dream.
But to Sleep.

Poem 6: I Set out Writing a Sonnet

I decided to write you a Sonnet,
With its perfect pentameter rhyming.
A Sentiment with your name upon it,
In a fashion so very beguiling.
But pentameter is harder to write
And fourteen lines are not really enough.
Ans so I turned to a different light
To express all these sentiments and stuff...

So I set out to write for you a song
But the tune was all wrong
And before long
The desire was simply gone.

"Maybe an epic!" I thought.
"With nymphs and dragons and elves and the lot!"
But the dragons couldn't come
And the nymphs were from home
And with no dragons, can you expect elves?

So all I have is this note
(can we call it a letter)
And the knowledge that nothing so rote
quite expresses my feelings, together
So I hope you can forgive this silly expression
Of all my admiration.
For you.
And your smile.