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“A dimple on the chin - the devil within.”- Pope Paul VI-(Pope. 1897-1978), no hairum scarum, say it as you see it, Titters from (Chris) Tina
By Christina Rossetti.
The following has gained a place upon the Cloud foremost for its name, which is one of the finest titles for a poem I have ever come across, (I’m sure you’ll agree). Then, upon further inspection I feel it is worth some small applause, as twas written in 1893 – over a hundred years ago, and may well be the very first written examples of such clever-clogs, ‘aren’t I a proper smarty-pants- type’ lines. Educational too, for I did not know dimples were to be found in corn fields, and the title line is a new one on me also, and so has me smiling up here on the Cloud. (All the more-so because sonmi knows a few people who have pin-heads, and are bald too).
A Pin Has A Head, But Has No Hair.
A pin has a head, but has no hair;
A clock has a face, but no mouth there;
Needles have eyes, but they cannot see;
A fly has a trunk without lock or key;
A timepiece may lose, but cannot win;
A corn-field dimples without a chin;
A hill has no leg, but has a foot;
A wine-glass a stem, but not a root;
A watch has hands, but no thumb or finger;
A boot has a tongue, but is no singer;
Rivers run, though they have no feet;
A saw has teeth, but it does not eat;
Ash-trees have keys, yet never a lock;
And baby crows, without being a cock.
Hmm. I have a head, but I have no hair. So does that make me a pinhead?
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Oh no, the two do not necessarily go together. You may well be a fathead.
sonmi rolling around on the Cloud laughing.
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A cigarette has a butt, butt does not fart!
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Very good H, and as rude as ever. laughs.
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When I see writing from this time period, I often think our collective cleverness may in fact be on the wane. Though the writing here on the cloud disabuses me of this notion on a frequent basis and suggests the presence of anomalous effects. We’re all made of genes now, and that’s why, I believe, we’re mostly just pushing one another’s buttons.
Michael
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I know what you mean there Micheal, the button pushing is true too, in more ways than one. nods an awful lot.
I’m most pleased you find that this place rises above the fogginess that seems to blunt the edges these days. Very good of you to say so bows and curtsies too for good measure. Imagination should be let loose without fear to graze as it wishes and gallop like a bedlamite to destinations unknown (as of yet).
I love the gems which are to be found within old books, not enough people read these things and have no idea how brilliant the light can shine from back then.
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Oh, I don’t know, Michael. There were fewer entertainments and distractions back then…
A tree has a top, but no bottom
A line can be toed, but cannot be fingered
But though tough to shepherd, a crook can be fingered
Computers have memory, but cannot remember
Pliers have jaws, but fail at yawning
… this is fun, but the rhyming needs time to hone. And there are so very many distractions these days…
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I went for a walk today. A dull day, and it drizzled all the way. But it gave me time to cogitate…
A rock has a face, but no visage;
Chickens have breasts, but little cleavage;
A spud’s eyes are more blind than a bat;
Wheat has an ear, yet hears none of that;
A wine’s nose is no good for smelling;
And its bottle’s neck fails at necking.
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I hope you didn’t find any poo pressies whilst out there – pleased inspiration struck instead!
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No, no poo pressies on that walk. (D’ya think maybe everyone in my neighbourhood read my recent rant and it persuaded them to change their ways? Hmm… no, probably not.)
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A pin has a dance floor. But only for dancing angels.
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Ooooooooh. That’s very good. Go to the top of the class donzo! I really do like it. I only collect the smartest followers here on the Cloud methinks grins and pins a pin to his lapel that has one giant, portly angel ‘dad-dancing’ upon it
s.u.t.C
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This piece is sensational. Really wonderful. I love things that relate inanimate objects back to humans, seeing ourselves in stuff. It’s as funny as it is fun.
my pick – ‘A corn-field dimples without a chin’- hallelujah, sweet jesus, lets make coarn bread for supper
I actually titled one of my paintings ‘clock hands could be legs’, because I thought who had the right to discriminate, then a fine lady said to me, Jess but the hands ‘point’ to the time, ‘point’. In a moment of ‘oh, yeah’, I said to her ‘who said legs can’t point, especially ballerina’s legs’. Its one of those stories, you know, the ones that are not of this or that, but more of that than this.
xx
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Why thank you Jess. Christina is not known for her jests, indeed her subjects are often rather sad and sobering, so I was pleased to come across this randomly – as random as a dimple in a cornfield or a beardy field in a dimple upon a chin perhaps.
You were spot on with your reply to that fine lady too, and how. I love that you see legs pointing, because of course they can. They can in the can-can for one and the ballet, and just by any one of us raising a calf and motioning towards the kitchen for a long promised, yet entirely missing cup of tea and slice of corn bread. You have reminded me of a sharp post of mine from some time ago, so I shall send you there now. You’ll enjoy this smiles x
https://sonmicloud.wordpress.com/2014/06/06/the-turning-pointe/
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do you drink black tea? or herbal. Do you like coffee somni?
I wish I was a tea gal, but I seem to like strong rich flavors, long black/black chocolate, chilli, lemon zang tang.
I shall go over and read now and youll find me there in the comment section there
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Whilst I absolutely love the smell of fresh coffee, I cannot bear the taste. I am a tea gal, as you say, I alternate between caffeine and decaffeinated tea, with white tea being a nice change every now and again. I also drink some herb teas – peppermint tea when the tum it does rumble, and organic chamomile, lavender and rose is rather nice once in a blue moon. These days I have more caffeine in order to keep my peepers open, but still swap to decaffeinated brews after 4pm in the afternoon. Hot chocolate is lush, but I only drink it on cold winter days or evenings. You can keep your lemon laughs.
s.u.t.C
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