mother daughter galleries

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We are having a poem contest at school. I think its the same as the speaking contest, whoever is best at speeching is chosen and those people challenge off to see who wins. Anyway i have a short one, or a very long one. I already know the Short one off by heart and its Wednesday that we go back to school, but i got my mums opinion and she likes the long one better. I geuss i do to, because it keeps people thinking. Here is the short one:
Ladies and Jellyspoons, hobos and tramps
crosseyed mosquitos and bow legged ants
I come before you
to stand behind you
and tell you something i no nothing about
Next thursday which is good friday
their will be a mothers meeting
for fathers only
wear your best clothes
if you havent any
come if you cant
if you can, stay at home
admission is free so
pay at the door
pull up a seat
and sit on the floor
it makes no difference where you sit,
the man in the gallery's sure to spit.

And heres the long one:

Many, many years ago
when I was twenty-three,
I got married to a widow
who was a pretty as could be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter
who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
and soon the two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law
and change my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
for she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,
although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
a brother-in-law to dad.
And so became by uncle,
though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown up daughter who,
of course, was my step-mother

Father's wife then had a son,
who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
for he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother
and it makes me blue,
Because, although she is my wife,
she's my grandma too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
then I am her grandchild
And every time I think of it,
it simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
the strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!

Bonus points (thumbs up) if you tell my who the author of the long one was?
And if you are wondering, we don't malke up the poems, they have to be written by real poets.

THANKYOU!!


I read a really good book by her a few months ago but I don't remember what its called. Its about a really poor woman living in New York with two daughters and she works at an art gallery or something. A man living in Minnesota comes for an art show and they fall in love and get married. She apparently looks just like his dead mother. Her husband becomes really crazy and dresses up like his wife and does things like kill her ex husband and their new baby but then he ends up getting shot in the end I think. Oh and his mother was an artist and he steals her work. Can someone please tell me the name of this book?


In May of 2005 I went to Fleet Week in New York when I was in the Navy. I went to CBGBs and the gallery right beside it and watched a show. A girl was playing that night and the crowd was rather small, Id say maybe 25 people and there was a rock concert going on downstairs. The girl was good looking so I stayed and watched, An older lady with her husband and daughter started talking to me. She told me it was her daughter playing on stage and asked how I liked her music. We had a few drinks, talked about where we both were from (WV). I later met up with the girl playing had a picture with her bought her a drink and hung out until I had to leave. Her mom gave me her business card and told me to call if I was ever in NY I had a place to stay. The girl playing gave me a kiss and I left. Here recently I was cleaning out my wallet and found that card, I never throw anything away i put in my wallet, and looked at the last name. The name was Germonatta. I typed it in Google to see what would come up or if they even still lived in NY. When the screen came up I couldnt believe that I had made out with Lady GAGA!! What would be the chances of getting ahold of her or her mother?


In May of 2005 I went to Fleet Week in New York when I was in the Navy. I went to CBGBs and the gallery right beside it and watched a show. A girl was playing that night and the crowd was rather small, Id say maybe 25 people and there was a rock concert going on downstairs. The girl was good looking so I stayed and watched, An older lady with her husband and daughter started talking to me. She told me it was her daughter playing on stage and asked how I liked her music. We had a few drinks, talked about where we both were from (WV). I later met up with the girl playing had a picture with her bought her a drink and hung out until I had to leave. Her mom gave me her business card and told me to call if I was ever in NY I had a place to stay. The girl playing gave me a kiss and I left. Here recently I was cleaning out my wallet and found that card, I never throw anything away i put in my wallet, and looked at the last name. The name was Germonatta. I typed it in Google to see what would come up or if they even still lived in NY. When the screen came up I couldnt believe that I had made out with Lady GAGA!! What would be the chances of getting ahold of her or her mother?


My mother-in-law wrote this about me however it wasnt me-any thoughts?
I saw my son-in-law kissing another woman?
I have a secret My son-in-law works in chicago and commutes daily. About a week ago I was in chicago visiting an Art Gallery with my friend, and when we went to catch the coach back to our home town I got the shock of my life when I saw my new son-in-law at the coach station, obviously waiting to catch the same coach as us, kissing and cuddling another woman! I was routed to the spot and hid out of view where I watched him board the coach. The woman waved her off and was blowing kisses as the coach pulled away. he didnt see me. I have suspected for some time that he was having an affair. The person he was kissing is definitely not a relative and you dont kiss and cuddle friends in that manner. I think it must be someone he works with. My daughter would be devastated if she knew. I wish now I had had the courage to walk up to him when he was with this woman, but I was in shock. My daughter trusts this man implicitly but I have always thought he was a liar. Can anyone suggest anything? I have no proof of the affair, apart from what I saw that day.


I saw my son-in-law kissing another woman?
I have a secret My son-in-law works in chicago and commutes daily. About a week ago I was in chicago visiting an Art Gallery with my friend, and when we went to catch the coach back to our home town I got the shock of my life when I saw my new son-in-law at the coach station, obviously waiting to catch the same coach as us, kissing and cuddling another woman! I was routed to the spot and hid out of view where I watched him board the coach. The woman waved her off and was blowing kisses as the coach pulled away. he didnt see me. I have suspected for some time that he was having an affair. The person he was kissing is definitely not a relative and you dont kiss and cuddle friends in that manner. I think it must be someone he works with. My daughter would be devastated if she knew. I wish now I had had the courage to walk up to him when he was with this woman, but I was in shock. My daughter trusts this man implicitly but I have always thought he was a liar. Can anyone suggest anything? I have no proof of the affair, apart from what I saw that day.
9 hours ago - 4 days left to answer.


I have a prominent position high in the office. When the war started, some sons of my employees, rash young men, wanted to go. I allowed some and refused the others. But they still departed. It grieved me to see them neglecting my orders, but I let it be. Then I found out that those who left actively and secretly corresponded with those who stayed. Some of their messages were intercepted and given to me to read. From this correspondence I found out that my character, my manners, my affections, my tastes, my person, my whole life, were derisively censured. Some of them said that I was to them as a sort of country-gentleman, given up now to the domestic
and uniform life of my house, and making love ecstatically at the feet of my young nymph of fifty seasons (my second wife is not young, yet I am deeply in love). Others said that I was most courageous in my gallery, but of turning pale on the eve, and at the moment, of an action (because I did not want them to be involved in this war). Even my own daughter (her mother and I were never married, but I cared for her, gave her allowance, supported her in her grand marriage and so on) was derisive about my wife, who was so kind to her. Other "critics" were sons and relatives of my friends and employees whom I helped in their career, in their personal lives, who owe everything to me, especially the Louvois family. I believed myself to be loved by this family. Great God! With what a set I am surrounded! I dedicated my life to these people, and they, apparently, simply hate me! What must I do, then, to be loved? And how do I deal with them now, when I know their real feelings, what should I do?


My mother does not live with my father, and I rarely see her. My mother is all about money, status, nice clothes, vacations, cocktails, art. She told me she was coming here, and I skipped the evening class I attend (I study Italian in the evening, with a woman who lived in
Italy for 26 years, and I am good at it) to meet her, and asked my boyfriend to lend me money for the taxi, because she hated travelling by bus. Last time she came she had so many friends around, they took all her time, and I thought that it'd be different this time. Then she arrived and everything was wrong. She laughed at my flat. She said it was too funny and asked could she go now that shea��d seen it. She said Ia��d never let the taxi go and marooned her in this neck of the woods, had I? I had her supper ready. It was chicken livers and a miniature of sherry, and I had the rice all ready too. I showed it to her and she laughed again. I don't have a lot of money, and I tried so hard to buy all these things and please her! She said she had only called in to keep me quiet. She was going to some art gallery, some opening, some exhibition. Shea��d be late. She tried to push past me. So, I couldna��t take it any more. I locked the door and threw the key out the window. I said now you have to stay and sit and talk to your daughter. I
said, now you cana��t get out and run away as youa��ve run away from us
all, all your life, from Daddy, from the rest of us. She got into a terrible temper and kept screaming and beating the door and saying I was cracked and like my father. Then she wore herself out, and eventually she did have supper. She was worried in case the house went on fire and wea��d be burned to a crisp. Thata��s what she kept saying, burned to a crisp. And she is still there. She slept in in my bed, and I slept in the chair. When she was in the bathroom, I went out through the window. She came here yesterday, at seven oa��clock, and she is still there, locked against her will. What else could I do? She never has a moment, always in a rusha�� to go somewhere else, to meet other people, never caring about me. What should I do?


there was a lady who had a young daughter and the father was always asking for money and wasnt in the daughter life. The mother worked at a art gallery and was struggling to make ends meet.This new artist had his gallery there and there was a painting on a woman who looked like her. she and the artist hook up, they get married. She finds out that hes crazy and obsessed with his dead mother and he only married her because she looked like his mom.


Jamie is a 26 year old mexican paintress. She's a very beautiful woman because she's very tall, has a slender body with lighty tanned skin and has big natural breasts. Jamie's has two sultry green eyes which brights like emeralds and her very long hair is dark blonde.
Jamie is also a cosmopolitan woman: part of her heritage is from the U.S.A. because her mother's family came from Missouri, she's part Spanish because her father's ancestors came from CataluA�a and she's also part Czech from her mother's side. This cosmopolitism is also reflected in her name: Jamie Melissa Aracely.
Jamie began her love for painting at the tender age of 7 years old. Her father, who is an important businessman, hired one of the most famous mexican painters to give private classes to his daughter. At the age of 16, an important art merchant proposed Jamie to participate in an International Art Exposition that take place in Mexico City. Jamie accepted and her exposition was a success. After this, Jamie began to expose her work in the most important galleries of the world.
Another one of Jamie's hobbies is to swim. Because she lives in Jalisco, where she was born, and the climate of this state is warm all the year, she swims everyday. Jamie is also a lover of nature and life for this reason, she decided to give birth to her son at home with a midwife. This decision was very criticized by her friends who also qualificated her to be a masochist. But Jamie didn't think so and she gave birth to her son in the intimity of her home.

DO YOU LIKE THIS DESCRIPTION OF THE CHARACTER?
Thank you very much!!!


I'm a 15 year old girl ... with my mother nearing her forties, the obvious rift between us is widening rapidly. Thus the suggestion of a mother-daughter bonding session... that's right.

I mean, she's a lovely person, but we're just not compatible. Last time i took her to Camden. That went down particularly well (mainly because i avoided the good shops with hippy junk).
My idea for the next one would be an art gallery or something. But apparently we've 'done' the tate; her idea of looking at art is a quick browse then coffee. Does anyyone now f a place in London i can take her that combines art galleries, charing cross manga shops and markets with coffee, shopping and salad?
thankyou!!
it's not an embarrassment thing- i LOVE my mother! I really hadn't thought of other markets to be perfectly honest. The thing is that she's rather weedy and pathetic; the idea of walking without a purpose would probably kill her! MY delicate 4 ft'9' mother needs pitt-stops!


History
Dylana��s eyes glistened the way they always did when he seen his one year old son Adam. His face his eyes, it made him feel welcome just to know that he was a part of him. That Adam shared both him and the woman he loved more than anything. How could there be a more perfect child? He loved them both, although he was seventeen and she was sixteen it didna��t matter. Why should it all matter? It wasna��t important -- no, it wasna��t. He was young and had more life and love than most people over seventy bragged over. Yes, he was foolish of course he was but what man at any age can claim not to be.
Dylan was seventeen but he also had something else on his hands something that no ordinary eighty year old man could even consider as real let alone experience. He had fangs, not some crazy deformity from birth well it could be it all depends on how you analyze the situation, but Dylan had fangs because he was a vampire. Dylan had more challenges than that just connecting him too a world which should not exist, But who can really say what should be real? Who can judge what is normal and not When so many different creatures do exist, alone and forgotten.
Dylan had family, and as explained they do not compare yes they are connected to that unexplainable world and some dig deeper and are a whole new creature on there own. Although Dylana��s family fit in very well they had money good looks, friends, and charm. The last thing on his families mind was not fitting in. Who cared about that most of them were grown up and in love. His father and mother included, although His mother loved his father deeply it was a one ended arrangement and Harvon was Re-married to another woman, Misty. His mother Harriot had been in other non-successful marriages but only one produced the satisfaction of love. Dylan had what he expressed as an uncountable amount of siblings.
There was Selena who was twenty-eight, married and had two wonderful young children. Selena was a very intelligent clothing designer for a New York company which played a crucial role in the Design industry. Caitlin the most happily married of the children, although it didna��t always seem that way, she was twenty six years old and married to Riann James. Riann and Caitlin had four young children who were the most blessed miracle.
Jessie and Jade were the twins wild, crazy and known for excessive travelling. Jessie settled down in New York City, with her husband Ian and their daughter Abbigail. Jade resides in Australia with his wife and baby. And then therea��s Jamie.
Jamie is only twenty years old, he has two lovely children and a wife named Lorrie. Jamie is a very talented surgeon. Dylan is the youngest of his family until Misty has her baby, the surprise that they all have to deal with.
The official joining of two families, these days marriage is hardly the sealing of the deal. Although Dylan knew deep in his heart that for him, marriage would be everything how can people separate. How can people out there leave there children? It just didna��t make sense, it never would.
How do people spend years together touching them as if the world depended on hearing there voice, on the touch, seeing them fall asleep. How could any one in there right mind leave a family that they had built upon for any length of time. This world is corrupt, and unjust. One thing that Dylan was for sure of he was in love with primrose, and he loved his friends more than anything in the world. His what? One friend, Donald Bass was his step brother. Dylan loved him as though he was his own brother. Possibly more, Don was the one person that Dylan could see and not be jealous of, not because he was better. No, just because he loved him.
Don was just there, he hadna��t always been although Dylan wished he had been. Don was one of the most precious and meaningful things that Dylan had ever been blessed with. How many people are given the chance to live with there best friend? How many guys could just look at there best friend and be reassured that he was loved. Yes, he knew that he was sometimes he was out of place and mean. Although if Donald only knew that when Dylan got sad, or down sometimes he just snuck into his room and watched him. Never for long, and never letting him see that he was watching. That didna��t change the feeling.
Yes, Dylan loved many people in many different ways
His siblings for being there, his parents unconditionally and the heart stealing, emotion burning love for his girlfriend and child, the love for don which almost compared on the scale of Primrose. And that was saying something strong.

The day had passed without any consideration for the fact that he was at school or learning. Dylan was one of the Most straight A students, and took all advanced courses. It amazed people that he was so smart, everything just came to him. Dylan was going to a very high quality private school and was what middle class would consider as a�?Elitea�?. He was part of one of the most craved, and envied society. People wondered how Dylan could even be considered normal. Dylan was as known everything but normal. As he stared into space at the ceiling of the dim lighted cafeteria which was designed with divine British taste, he wondered what a cafeteria needed leather sofas at a wall, and gallery art work presented around the room for.
Dylan assumed it was the schools way to say that they meant business. There was a lounge for students, although none of them recognized it as good enough after all they were rich. The lounge had a deep almost mahogany wood flooring, and the walls were covered with paintings that didna��t seem to belong in a school, with a fire place and books for leisure close by, also there was a pool table, and almost invisible among the artwork Plasma television.
Strangely enough as Dylan walked through the oak doors to the lounge many young men and women were gossiping and moping around. He never understood why the rich always seemed unhappy although with great acting accomplishments to the outsider would seem as though they had one a much awaited prize.
Dylan sighed and went over to a couch sitting next to a couple of girls talking about how this girl in his English class Becky? Was it Becky? Was pregnant and going for an abortion and then for help. Dylan cringed trying not to think of attacking the girls. Gossip was worse enough without talking about killing children and spreading mean rumors.
His mind was filled with the thought of Adams smiles, and Rosiea��s beautiful face, he wished he could break out of this school and go see primrose, although she was also attending school, public school and he doubted that she enjoyed two hours of lunch breaks, since she was given forty. His mind continued wondering he had to work later, why again. His father was teaching him good values and he was accepting the task hands on.
Suddenly Dylan had a new thought and an urge, he grabbed his leather bag and bolted. Knowing that there was over an hour left of lunch. Dylan ran out of the school and hopped in a cab. Dylan sat in a little cafA� by himself and he silently walked around his mind again, more alone.
Dylan reflected on when he grew up, when it all began.
Dylan thought about his past about California when he
Was little, he missed California some times but Don seemed to insist that they lived in New York. Where Dylana��s friend didna��t live, well the ones besides Donald and Primrose he wished that he was in California. He thought about running through the field near his manor, where he could play for hours, he thought about the shores and swimming. He loved to run around those fields picking wild roses, and flowers.
He enjoyed California so much, the bustling city and the movie stars. How he missed it there. And that was where Dylan was going.. He was going to California. Dylan got into another cab and quickly was sped off to the airport. Was he insane? Of course he was.. hea��d always been that was such an understatement. Dylan bought plane tickets for the first flight that led to Los Angeles. He knew hea��s be in a lot of trouble, at school and with his father.
Although Dylan knew if he lived with his mother Harriot it wouldna��t be a problem, actually his mother did live in California that would be his savoir Dylan was going to go to his mothers. Just for a few weeks. He thought about how Rose would feel as he boarded the plane. He knew that she would think that he was just avoiding her. It may seem that way but he would never. Dylan loved primrose more than anything in the world, more than life.
Dylan loved plane rides, endless thinking time he loved to be alone and thinking. He always did, always.
Thoughts raced everything from his breakfast and school to what he was going to do at his mothers for two weeks.
As Dylan endlessly thought he fell asleep.

***
Dylan awoke to the sound of the captain asking every one to put on there seat belts. As he brought himself back to consciousness he stared out the window at the fast approaching ground. Dylan loved the outdoors and walking out of that airport and catching the California air was a feeling he could not describe as anything else but pure bliss. The car rental office was barely five minutes away by walking and he ran down to the doors. It took all but five minutes to rent a Porsche and Dylan set off down the road driving as far as the speed limit would allow him.
The drive was the perfect opportunity to reflect on the life that he would be stepping back into for a few weeks. He would have his father send him his school work, it would be so easy to keep up, after all homework was a fifteen minute job. Dylan drove to his mothers with only his darling girlfriend on his mind. His mother greeted him with the warmest and most welcoming hug that Dylan had received in ages. a�?Dylan! Oh my god a�� why are you in California? Does your dad know?a�? She practically screamed at him in joy and shock. a�?Whoa mom, calm down naw Ia��ll tell dad later, and I was just kind if bored.a�?
a�? you came to California because you were bored! Ita��s a school day!a�?
a�?Yeah, Ia��m gonna take a little break from school and stay here for two weeks, if I can.a�?
a�?Well Dylan, if youa��ve thought it through, then of course you may.a�?
a�?Kay, Ia��m going to go up to my room mom.a�?
a�?Mm hmma�?
Dylan rushed up to his child hood bedroom where he had spent his more childhood years. It had barely changed.
The bed still had a blue and black soft blanket on top with five mega pillows, the couch was still black, and his television still had many DVDa��s scattered on the top of it. This was home, his home. He reached for his phone the one refuge that the room still held as an attraction.
He dialled carefully making sure not to miss a number.
1-293-555-3489 And as Dylan hoped Brady picked up.
a�?Uh, hello?a�?
Dylan hesitated for a moment before answering.
a�?uh, hey Brady?Ita��s your old best friend? You know Dylan?a�?
a�?Oh, my god! Are you serious Dylan I havena��t seen you in years and years! How are you doing man?a�?
a�?oh, Ia��m good as you know I live in New York City.
a�?Yeah, okay dude.. you know where I live same old come visit me tomorrow, like a�� ten am kay?a�?
a�?Yeah, of course see you then.a�?
After seventy minutes of pointless catching up the phone was hung up and Dylan went into his bathroom. The plane ride had really messed with him.



Hi, If someone was to do sister locks. How long could they keep it in? Is two years too short of a time? And also is there a way they could take it out without cutting any of their hair? I was to make my sisterlocks like this:Please go on google, type in sisterlocks, go on the second one (the gallery) then Number 15(Mother and daughter) or number 24, one with chopstick in hair. Is it managable?


My 70+ year old mother has amassed a fairly large collection of her landscape oil paintings, primarily done in palate knife, leaning towards impressionistic. She's pretty good and has sold a bit in the past in her rural hometown. The art I've seen in Portland galleries is more modern in style. She expects only modest prices for her work. As her daughter I'd like to have her work shown, but don't know where to start. Any ideas?


Bottle Trouble


A woman was trying hard to get the catsup to come out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her four-year old daughter to answer the phone.

"It's the minister, Mommy," the child said to her mother.

Then she added, "Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle."


Library Complaint

Judi stormed up to the front desk of the library and said, "I have a complaint!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I borrowed a book last week and it was horrible!"

"What was wrong with it?"

"It had way too many characters and there was no plot whatsoever!"

The librarian nodded and said, "Ah. So you must be the person who took our phone book."

Appreciation

An rtist asked the gallery owner if there had been any interest in his paintings on display at that time. "I have good news and bad news," the owner replied. "The good news is that a gentleman enquired about your work and wondered if it would appreciate in value after your death. When I told him it would, he bought all 15 of your paintings."

"That's wonderful," the artist exclaimed. "What's the bad news?"

"The guy was your doctor."





I have designed a Tattoo that means a lot to me - it has a picture of a mother fairy holding a baby fairy and beside that in Kanji are 6 charecters that mean My Angel Tai Lee (my daughters name) the name is Chinese - we are not but I thought this might help with any answers (hence the Kanji charecters) I already have an arm band on the right arm and ankle band on the right ankle.. my more conservative sister has suggested the shoulder blade (I like this but then Id never see it) hubby thinks it should go either over my heart or on my left arm - I know the design is right for me (It took me a little while to design it) but Im booked in to have it done tomorrow and Im still not settled on a location.. I have looked through heaps of galleries even tried my parents but they just said hmmmm cant tell you that one (Im the black sheep of the family they just love me and accept me what ever I do LOL) it measures about 15cm x 15cm in size - OH I dont have a good tummy for it (had a c-section)