O_o!

I like poetry, despite every attempt by English class to make me hate it. And to prove to myself and everyone else that I'm not lying to myself so that I feel more cultured, I have posted a poem that I rather like below. So take that!

The Cockney Amorist

By John Betjeman

Oh when my love, my darling,
You've left me here alone,
I'll walk the streets of London
Which once seemed all our own.

The vast suburban churches
Together we have found:
The ones which smelt of gaslight
The ones in incense drown'd;
I'll use them now for praying in
And not for looking round.

No more the Hackney Empire
Shall find us in its stalls
When on the limelit crooner
The thankful curtain falls,
And soft electric lamplight
Reveals the gilded walls.

I will not go to Finsbury Park
The putting course to see
Nor cross the crowded High Road
To Williamsons' to tea,
For these and all the other things
Were part of you and me.

I love you, oh my darling,
And what I can't make out
Is why since you have left me
I'm somehow still about.

Dinosaur, post 2

And now for the big question:



Dinosaur or Cleopatra?

I was talking to my mother last Friday after taking a shower and the conversation went a little like this:

Rachel: This head towel thing makes me feel like a Dinosaur.

Gwen: You look more like Cleopatra.

Rachel: Cleopatra? She didn't go around with towels on her head, did she?

Gwen: I don't know... someone back then did I'm sure.

So which is it? You be the judge.

Cleopatra

On the bright side...

The artistic fruits of this week.