My Precious Oh wait Wrong movie
(Dobby)
picture: dunno source, via our lol builder. lol caption: PiperK1980
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“Tulips” is a poem by American poet Sylvia Plath. The poem was written in 1960 and included in the collection Ariel published in 1965.
Tulips is structured as a nine-stanza, sixty-three line poem. The speaker is in a hospital bed and describes her process of recovery from surgery via an image of tulips (presumably a gift) that interrupt her calm stay in the hospital where she has “given [her] name and [her] day-clothes up to the nurses / And [her] history to the anesthetist and [her] body to the surgeons.” [1]
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in. I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses And my history to the anesthetist and my body to surgeons. They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut. Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in. The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble, They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps, Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another, So it is impossible to tell how many there are. My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently. They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox, My husband and child smiling out of the family photo; Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks. I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address. They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations. Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head. I am a nun now, I have never been so pure. I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. How free it is, you have no idea how free – The peacefulness is so big it dazes you, And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets. It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet. The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me. Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby. Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds. They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color, A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck. Nobody watched me before, now I am watched. The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins, And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips, And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself The vivid tulips eat my oxygen. Before they came the air was calm enough, Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss. Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise. Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine. They concentrate my attention, that was happy Playing and resting without committing itself. The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves. The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals; They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me. The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea, And comes from a country far away as health.
Hahahahaha! Oops, wrong comment…
Good one. Almost squirted coffee out my nose. Gross! LOL
ewwy/owwy(if its hot)
Luckily it was just right. LOL
Wow way to make the Dobby/Smeagol connection about 5 years after the rest of the world.
I feel sorry for you because obviously whatever is wrong with your life is so awful it’s causing you to be a complete asshat towards someone attempting to make others smile.
Hmmm. Thanks for pointing that out you dirty hippie.
hey now! I shower!
Nah, it’s fine where it is, thanks.
EEEEEEEEEEW and LOL at the same time.
BUZZ KILL!!!
I made the connection the same time everyone else did but I wasn’t on this site then so sue me for the delay…geez.
Dobby has Patrick Stewart’s arms.
LOLOLOL Patrick Stewart arms… I’m STILL laughing at that one!
more like maddona’s arms
I know I sould like such a noob, but I don’t get it.. I know who Dobby is.. but who is Smeagol??
*blushes*
smeagol is gollum. .
. . no worry, i no trow aniting at u
You mean GOLLUM! GOLLUM! :p LOL
Smeagol is a character in the Lord of the Rings. Creepy little dude but likeable at times. Rent all three and watch them…I think you will enjoy them. I did…one looooooooooong weekend.
“Smeagol, why u crying Smeagol?”
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“They confusing us with Harry Potter!”
Please don’t crucify me for a little LOLSpeak – Smeagol/Gollum did talk like that!
Now, all my friends and I made the connection 5 years ago.
Time passes, other movies get watched.
So it took me 15 seconds AT LEAST to figure out WHY this was referencing the WRONG MOVIE!
LOLing at myself and the good caption.
And LOLing IS what it’s ALL ABOUT!
smeagol = gollum , its his real name before the one ring took him and consumed him and turnedhim into a first class arsehole with a split personality
I think that picture looks more like ET, if you ask me.
Wrong character, too
I just realized, the actors that play Dobby and Gollum might just be brothers! They should totally do a YouTube comedy remake of “The Suite Life of Zack And Cody.”
“Stuupid fat Muggles….wait…”