Yes, the first job I had at the studio was Snow White. I don't like the term particularly, but I got stuck with the human characters. They just didn't have that many people who could draw humans.
quote by Marc Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode On Snow
Snowstorms!
Piles of snow!
Soft, crystalline white snowflakes!
Feathered rain!
Powder snow!
Falling snow!
Up to the kneecaps snow!
Snow stuck on sidewalks and streets!
Snowballs!
Snowmen!
Snowdrift!
Sledding on soft snow!
Crunching snow!
Snow cones!
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snow wedding in jo'burg
No! Radio wedding in Jo'burg on a snowy day
There is a snow in Jo'burg
And there is love in the air
A silent heart to heart conversation in a studio
no one can hear it except lovers
Love have found its place in their hearts
And there is happiness in their faces
Wedding takes years and months to plan
Yours done and planned in three hours
A dress, pastor and flowers
Sending invitation cards didn't happen
People just came, who can remain out
When every body wants to witness the 'Miracle wedding'
Wedding in the radio on snowy day!
Jo'burg stood still and listened
Out there snow is showering the city
City cleaning her eyes to witness.
The city is wearing a white blanket like a bride
In here the bride is wearing a white dress like a snow
And the groom is showing us his white teeth
All is white! This wedding is holy
But weddings take place in halls or private lodges
Yours took place in a radio studio
Decoration on its take three hours
The oaths, vows and pledges in our mist
Vows are flying like birds
Monique and Rui? 'I therefore pronounce you husband and wife'
A couple not single, live together like Dove.
Born as a couple. Couple born like doves
All done, well done Martin and the team
Your show is what grass is, to animals!
All done and well done Jacaranda FM
You are the best and you are still the best
Like a water to a fish
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sparkley Snow
white snow...
white snow...
white snow on the ground laying there in the day light sparkling away and while u sparkle there many people walking by enjoying your wounderful glow and sparkle.
white snow where do u get that wounderful glow and spark.
white snow u amaze people because of your glow and sparkle. many people think ur glow and sparkle is romantic when they see it. and i enjoy seeing u every year.
poem by Joseph Macquarrie
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The thing we must do intensely is be human together. People are more important than things. We must get together. The best thing humans can have going for them is each other. We have each other. We must reject everything which humiliates us. Humans are not objects of consumption. We must develop an absolute priority of humans ahead of profit — any humans ahead of any profit. Then we will survive. … Together.
quote by Frank Herbert
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ice & Snow
People never tell of ice
Or the snow that glitters nice
Or of the icy crunchy snow
Of that most people do not know
The crunch that sounds beneath your feet
As your sole and ice compete
When in the morning as you wake
You see a single white snow flake
You look out of the iced window
The look out seems so very low
Because the snow fell all night
It has left behind its sheet of white
poem by Helen Windass
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mountain Splendour
Snow leopards look at snow all day!
It's here, there, everywhere!
It hardly ever goes away!
It's white beyond compare!
It's dazzling white, it's total white,
It really, really is!
It's safe to say that it's too bright!
It's not something they'd miss...
Snow leopards sit the whole day long
On snow, snow, snow, snow, snow...
It's sometimes nice, don't get me wrong,
But doesn't that stuff glow! ?
It's freezing cold, no good at all...
And bores them all to tears...
They hate it when new snowflakes fall
And tickle both their ears!
Snow leopards wait for food to eat...
They wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...
They take things slow, they tap their feet...
And think life's just great!
They can't hum tunes like humans do...
Remembering each rhyme...
They just sit down, enjoy the view...
And... while... away... the... time...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Mountain Splendour II'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Blizzard of 2006
Snow, Snow, and More Snow,
when will you stop!
Of the flakes you do drop.
The Blizzard of 2006,
so much snow has fell,
many people stranded and in a fix
Here in Denver, stuck in traffic,
slipping and sliding, oh so slick,
if i have a wreck, how tragic.
Closed highways, people stranded,
this is on storm, not to forget,
finally at home, here we have landed.
We’re poor people Your Honour
We get some bones the dogs didn’t want
We know what you’ll say so just don’t
We get some nice music from your studio
And really nice soc-vision video
Economically speaking
We are the secondary consumers
Scattered around different containers
Underbridge death entertainers
And it’s really not our fault
We are sort of under default
On your roaring statistic scales
Of whatever remains or prevails
Note: ‘secondary consumers’ is a viable economic term for people who use used-up products
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Snow on snow
Snow on snow
Flakes gently falling
Like leaves from a tree
Asking permission
Before they land
On the snowflakes underneath
Each one different
Like leaves on a tree
A white carpet
Pure white till soiled
By children’s shoes
They love its touch
Ooo snowball fights
Snow doesn’t hurt
Snow is soft and forgiving
People hurt
They are selfish and cruel
So let it snow
Snow on snow on
poem by James Hart
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Scenes from a New England Winter
Streams of black winding there way from here to there
cutting through a field of white
trees struggling with all their might against the soft white invader
as people stop and stare
cars turned into moving mounds of snow
people hurrying off to some secret place to go
the softness of sounds in the cold
this is winter to me
the sun a creates such a glare against the snow
your breath a frosty mist hanging in the air
people bundled up tight against the cold
eyes blinking against the white
the crunch of snow under a boot, the laughter of children
home from school, all decked out in their new snow suit
the far off drone of a snow blower says work is near
winter, in New England a time to hold dear
© JPM 1/20/09
Snow White: Sonnet 3
Snow White and the dwarfs
Did a line of Sugar Boogers
While sitting in the forest
Which was full of Candy Sugars
Snow White took an apple
Which was filled with Gin
She drank it down with Snow filled Snapple
And fell on a big, fat pin
This is why Snow White lies
Under the Big C
From now on in the sky she flies
Over the Mojo key
Snow White died in vain
Because she did a lot of Cocaine
(4/4/07)
poem by Stacey Gibbs
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Human Or a Soul?
What were we first, a human or a soul?
Humans age, die and then grow old.
Souls incarnate in form and never by itself grow old.
Why not make laws that help the soul grow,
not keep us in bondage in the human form.
All revolutions of mankind in controlled kingdoms,
where because the soul was stuck and needed it’s freedom.
Why not learn more about how a Highly Evolved Being would act,
Look at how they behave, think and live in a pack.
Why on our planet we need a new cultural story,
One that makes united as a people in all it’s glory.
Not this wasted time on wars and horror stories.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Human Or a Soul?
What were we first, a human or a soul?
Humans age, die and then grow old.
Souls incarnate in form and never by itself grow old.
Why not make laws that help the soul grow,
not keep us in bondage in the human form.
All revolutions of mankind in controlled kingdoms,
where because the soul was stuck and needed it’s freedom.
Why not learn more about how a Highly Evolved Being would act,
Look at how they behave, think and live in a pack.
Why on our planet we need a new cultural story,
One that makes united as a people in all it’s glory.
Not this wasted time on wars and horror stories.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York Winter
New York Winter
Upon seeing the weather on TV, I noticed in your area
Your weather outside is dreadful But here it's so delightful
So because you've no place to go, watch it snow, watch it snow, watch it snow
It doesn't show signs of quittin You know you're stuck there just a sittin
Guess you could let the lights go low
Save some electric and watch it snow, snow, snow
It's gonna be 72 here today Why'd anyone stay up your way?
You need to find another place to go
Where there isn't any snow, any snow, any snow
Come visit, we have room with a view
Something you'll see that is new
With grass that one doesn't have to mow
And there's no snow, there's no snow, there's no snow
Jim 2008
poem by James Casey
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When you do a movie in the studio system, there's a committee. A committee of six or seven people you answer to. There's two or three producers, a studio executive and one or two people above that studio executive.
quote by Thomas Lennon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The real sin with Social Security is that it's a long-term rip-off and a short-term scam.
In the empty studio
The diffused northern sunlight
of this studio at dawn
matches the silence and the stillness
like the speaking silence
of the retrochoir behind the altar
of a simple white Greek island church –
that has no ornament; simply walls
painted in a pale blue wash,
the space, the air itself, as radiant with heaven;
behind the iconostasis – gold and candle and eternal gaze -
where praise is prepared; thought surrendered;
humility the robe; the sacred word awaits
the moment when it’s spoken;
so this studio; and at its centre, calling,
stands an easel with a white canvas on it;
what waits in this empty studio
that’s so full of emptiness that calls?
what challenges? This canvas
waits, as being ever does; full, content,
needing nothing but itself…
the silence will accept our spoken word,
then return to stillness;
the canvas will not be so forgiving;
‘make a mark on me that will not diminish
my completeness…; so let our being
meet, before a mark is made…’
this holy place: only godself may mark
this canvas and yet not detract; from space,
draw space; or may with colour stain transparent
this white white radiance of eternity:
and in the place whence all arises,
Nothing and Everything smile together
in their secret play.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I think it's definitely beneficial for these characters to have good acting voices behind them and it affects the characters in a way that people can feel like they're part of the game and that they know these characters.
quote by Tara Strong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Days Have Gone!
Under the sky in the nights
Before pure emotions take flight
When people's hearts were snow white
No one ever could hide the light
In trustworthy and honesty were based all the rights
When all hearts were snow white
When for love people could die
When the echoes of people laughter were covered the nights
When With innocence desires were purified people's heart
When no one ever could ban the light
When pride and honesty was precious more than their lives
Ah those day are gone
How they could be found
Only in the old movies behind those screens black and white
Ah those days have gone!
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Another Version
Our trees are aspens, but people
mistake them for birches;
they think of us as characters
in a Russian novel, Kitty and Levin
living contentedly in the country.
Our friends from the city watch the birds
and rabbits feeding together
on top of the deep, white snow.
(We have Russian winters in Illinois,
but no sleighbells, possums instead of wolves,
no trusted servants to do our work.)
As in a Russian play, an old man
lives in our house, he is my father;
he lets go of life in such slow motion,
year after year, that the grief
is stuck inside me, a poisoned apple
that won't go up or down.
But like the three sisters, we rarely speak
of what keeps us awake at night;
like them, we complain about things
that don't really matter and talk
of our pleasures and of the future:
we tell each other the willows
are early this year, hazy with green.
poem by Lisel Mueller
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