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The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss – Celebrate Diversity and Mindfullness

The Sneetches, by Dr. Seuss
Now, the Star-Bell Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars.
Those stars weren’t so big. They were really so small.
You might think such a thing wouldn’t matter at all.

But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches
Would brag, “We’re the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches.”
With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they’d snort
“We’ll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!”
And, whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
They’d hike right on past them without even talking.

When the Star-Belly children went out to play ball,
Could a Plain Belly get in the game? Not at all.
You only could play if your bellies had stars
And the Plain-Belly children had none upon thars.

When the Star Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts
Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches
They left them out cold, in the dark of the beaches.
They kept them away. Never let them come near.
And that’s how they treated them year after year.

Then ONE day, it seems while the Plain-Belly Sneetches
Were moping and doping alone on the beaches,
Just sitting there wishing their bellies had stars,
A stranger zipped up in the strangest of cars!

“My friends”, he announced in a voice clear and clean,
“My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean.
And I’ve heard of Your troubles. I’ve heard you’re unhappy.
But I can fix that, I’m the Fix-It-Up Chappie.

I’ve come here to help you.
I have what you need.
And my prices are low. And I work with great speed.
And my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed!”

Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
Put together a very peculiar machine.
And he said, “You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch?
My friends, you can have them for three dollars each!”

“Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!”
So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared.
And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked.
And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked!
When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did. They had stars upon thars!

Then they yelled at the ones who had stars at the start,
“We’re still the best Sneetches and they are the worst.
But now, how in the world will we know”, they all frowned,
“If which kind is what, or the other way round?”

Then up came McBean with a very sly wink.
And he said, “Things are not quite as bad as you think.

So you don’t know who’s who. That is perfectly true.
But come with me, friends. Do you know what I’ll do?
I’ll make you, again, the best Sneetches on the beaches.
And all it will cost you is ten dollars eaches.”

“Belly stars are no longer in style”, said McBean.
“What you need is a trip through my Star-Off Machine.
This wondrous contraption will take OFF your stars
so you won’t look like Sneetches that have them on thars.”
And that handy machine working very precisely
Removed all the stars from their tummies quite nicely.

Then, with snoots in the air, they paraded about.
And they opened their beaks and they let out a shout,
“We know who is who! Now there Isn’t a doubt.
The best kind of Sneetches are Sneetches without!”

Then, of course, those with stars got all frightfully mad.
To be wearing a star was frightfully bad.
Then, of course, old Sylvester McMonkey McBean
invited THEM into his Star-Off Machine.

Then, of course from THEN on, as you probably guess,
Things really got into a horrible mess.

All the rest of that day, on those wild screaming beaches,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie kept fixing up Sneetches.
Off again! On again! In again! Out again!
Through the machines they raced round and about again,

Changing their stars every minute or two. They kept paying money.
They kept running through until the Plain nor the Star-Bellies knew
Whether this one was that one or that one was this one. Or which one
Was what one or what one was who.

Then, when every last cent of their money was spent,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie packed up. And he went.
And he laughed as he drove In his car up the beach,
“They never will learn. No. You can’t Teach a Sneetch!”

But McBean was quite wrong. I’m quite happy to say.
That the Sneetches got really quite smart on that day.
The day they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches.
And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars and whether
They had one, or not, upon thars.

— This is a brilliant poem in prose. It kinda reflects my life in a way… Had to share x


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Phenomenal Woman – Maya Angelou

I love this poem. I first heard it at a poetry recital roughly aged 12 or 13, it was one of those events where you either read aloud your own works, or the works of another. I don’t know how or why this poem stuck, but it did and I often look it up for inspiration. I love to write myself, but poetry, true poetry, is so hard to convey at times that all my words fall out sync and wind up being pages long. To me that’s very simple, unfocused magic! Turning poetry into a short story… I am daft at the best of times.

I was tagged with this too, but felt the need to cheer myself up and referred to this.

I’m not a radical feminist or anything, as they can be way OTT and scary, though that isn’t to say that their views aren’t valid, they make some damn good points, but they all need new PR’s. Anyhoo, without further ado:

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist, 
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.


from And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.


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I Went a Little Crazy With Free eBooks… A List

My dear and unfortunate successor,

Thank the Gods I’ve read most of these books already but I was sort of ‘against’ the idea of electronic books due to weird lighting that just adds fire to the flame of my brain aka migraines. Over the past few days I’ve downloaded a bunch of free eBooks available for the Kindle, from the classics list. I’m a huge nerd! I only went to check out prices for the Edgar Allen Poe poems and found them to be free. You know how you see something and add it to your basket, or you click to check the product out, and at the bottom is a selection of recommendations? I’m a sucker… I just kept clicking ‘Buy Now’, and what makes things worse? They were free!

Imagine what I’m like with money…. (no don’t… ¬_¬)

Anyhoo, some of the books will appear on my blog later on in life, as books that define my life in some way. For now the books marked with * are books I’ve read and loved.

Ta da….

  • Allan Quatermain
  • Lair of the White Worm
  • The Fall of the House of Usher*
  • Oedipus Trilogy
  • The Book of the Dead*
  • Legends of the Gods The Egyptian Texts, edited with translations
  • The Symbolism of Freemasonry
  • The Metaphysical Elements of Ethics
  • Crito*
  • The Literature of the Ancient Egyptians
  • Dracula’s Guest
  • The Mystery of Edwin Drood*
  • The Memorable Thoughts of Socrates
  • History of Julius Caesar*
  • Life on the Mississippi
  • A Midsummer Night’s Dream*
  • The Scarlet Letter*
  • Thought of Marcus Aurelius
  • Tacitus: The Histories, Vol. I and II
  • Edgar Allen Poe’s Complete Poetry Works*
  • The Religion of the Samurai a Study of Zen Philosophy and Discipline in China and Japan
  • The Phantom of the Opera*
  • Madame Bovary
  • Ethics
  • Beauty and the Beast*
  • Ancient Rome: From the Earliest Times Down to 476 A.D.
  • The Book of Were-Wolves
  • Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Plato
  • The Man Who Knew Too Much
  • The Life of Buddha and Its Lessons*
  • Dairy of a Nobody
  • The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse*
  • The Odyssey*
  • Tess of the d’Urbervilles*
  • Northanger Abbey
  • The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci Complete
  • Little Women
  • The Legend of Sleepy Hollow*
  • A Christmas Carol*
  • The Jungle Book*
  • The Illiad*
  • Guliver’s Travels*
  • Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
  • Pride and Prejudice*
  • Treasure Island*
  • The Adventure’s of Sherlock Holmes – I’ve read most of them, The Baskerville Hound is my favourite!

At the moment I’m reading:

  • The Picture of Dorian Gray
  • Dracula (for the millionth time!)
  • Frankenstein
  • The Lost Symbol
  • The Vampyre
  • Moab is my Washpot
  • The Historian
  • Complete Grimm’s Tales
  • Complete Works of Lord Byron

Told you read more than one book at the same time…. only to read them again! NeRd!

Yours in profoundest grief, Sy x


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I Was Tagged, on The Tube!

I didn’t think to look up the title of this poem, but it’s called One Art, I have it here.

The next poem is, These Witches Hands

These hands I’m told are gentle,
I know these hands are strong.
These hands have swept tears away,
and made right, what had gone wrong.
These hands lift up my baby,
to shoulders where he rides.

They’ve cast herbs into the oceans,
For spells hewn…in the tides.
These hands buried a lover,
They have held a newborn child.
These hands have cared for creatures,
some were tame, and some still wild.
These hands can move in symbols,
that translate into song.
A gift from a young lover,
before things went so wrong.
These hands have planted in the earth,
and reached up to the Divine,
They’ve carried me thru life, you see,
For these witch’s hands…are mine.

The last poem was written by Percy Bysshe Shelly and I love it!

MUSIC, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap’d for the belovèd’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Here is the video:

Enjoy x x


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I Love This Poem… Lost?

One Art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop


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The Man and The Monkey

I’m not sure why I wrote this, I was in Lust (not love) with a man who broke my heart. But anyway, I thought it would be cool, as I haven’t written here for a while!

********** Mwah xxx

Today wasn’t like any ordinary day.
The Fool looked out the window to greet her love,
From far he came, to give her his heart.
He didn’t have the courage like the lion he was,
And she didn’t understand his signals.
A King and a Queen not ruling the hearts,
Was a misfortunate on this land.
So slowly they knew less about each other.

One fine day and man and his monkey,
Strolled into town, hand in hand.
Laughing and signing, playing all about.
They came across the two lovers and knew the mystery and doubt.
He pulled them together and gave them a shout,
‘Hold one another, like never before,
Look into her eyes and say you want her,
Smile into his heart and say you’ll love him,
Because together you are one.’

The man set out his cards,
One each for the two,
To represent their love and lives,
And an overall card to round them off as one heart.
The Magician and The Fool,
To live a life under the card Lovers.

Now forever they must stay to rule each others hearts,
Never again, to be apart.
To sing together and travel to yonder,
Hand in hand they will be.

No, today wasn’t like any ordinary day.
The Fool looked out the window to greet her love.
From far he came, to give her his heart.