The next day the two sisters went to the ball, and so did Cinderella, but dressed more magnificently than before. The King's son was always by her side, and his pretty speeches to her never ceased.
quote by Charles Perrault
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Abused Cinderella
Cinderella was a nice gal
Always did what she was told
Put others before herself
Cinderella had lots of hopes and dreams
One day in the town she heard of the ball
CInderella wanted to go
Really really bad
Her step mom gave her touble
Her sisters were ok
But she never went
Beucase no one cared
Poor cinderella cried
Dreams really don't come true
Fairytales are fake
Cinderella never found her prince
She never really went to any ball
She lost all her hopes and dreams in life
Cinderella never got a granted wish
Poor cinderella
True love never found her
When she was old
Cinderella died an old maid
When Cinderella went to heaven
She was treated like a real princess
Angels planed a ball for her
And made her a pretty white gown
Jesus danced with her
Then he took her by the hand
And led her to her handsome chosen prince
It was all worth the shattered hopes
And dreams in life
To have a fairytale ending in heaven
poem by Bella Ravenstar
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Cinderella
Written by j. kimball and d. vidal, 1984
Found on perspective.
I was out last night having a ball
And comin home, I wasnt thinkin nothin at all
And there on the sidewalk what did I see
A little glass slipper starin back at me
Cinderella (cinderella)
Well Im not superstitious but Im smarter than I seem
And I knew it was love, if you know what I mean
When I saw that slipper it occurred to me
The shoe fit her and she fit me
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
When I find her it will be
A fairy tale for her and me
I will never let her go
Cinderella
Now the other girls hold no fascination for me
I just think of her wherever she may be
I will search my whole life through
cause no one else will ever do
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
When I find her it will be
A fairy tale for her and me
I will never let her go
She will give my heart a home
Until that day Ill be alone
With just a slipper and a dream
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
Oo (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im not that Cinderella
I'm not that Cinderella, ,
I’m not right all the time,
And I’m not gonna sit in a cold, dusty old attic,
Just Waiting and waiting for that someone to come and find me.
And then one day I realized,
The fariytale life just isnt the life for me.
I'm not that Cinderella.
I know that one day will be the day I'll find someone who loves me,
who needs me,
Who wants me for my heart and soul,
and not just a pretty face,
and he’s isn’t scared to show that he loves me.
A one who will see
that I’m pleased who I am,
I’m not that Cinderella.
I can chase my own Monsters,
Out of my room.
I Can dream my own dreams,
But maybe not accomplish them.
And my knight in shining armour,
Is upto me.
I'm not that Cinderella.
I don't wanna be like anyone else,
I wanna be an individual,
Not like the pretty girls you see in the story books,
JUST ME (:
I'm not that Cinderella.
poem by Mikaiila .S.
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Nina Pretty Ballerina
Every day in the morning on her way to the office
You can see as she catches a train
Just a face among a million faces
Just another woman with no name
Not the girl youd remember but shes still something special
If you knew her I am sure youd agree
cause I know shes got a little secret
Friday evening she turns out to be...
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
But she knows the fun would go away
If she would play it every day
So shes back every morning to her work at the office
And another week to live in a dream
And another row of early mornings
In an almost never-ending stream
Doesnt talk very often, kind of shy and uncertain
Everybody seems to think shes a bore
But they wouldnt know her little secret
What her friday night would have in store...
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
She would like to play it every day
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
(fade)
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hitler Had One Ball
Cinderella was kept from the ball.
Those in a slump can't hit it.
A New Year comes with the
fall of the ball.
Hitler had one ball
Gore Vidal's father three
Most men don't want
ballectomies.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Wrecking Ball
My lifes an open book
You read it on the radio
We got nowhere to hide
We got nowhere to go
But if you still decide
That you want to take a ride
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight.
I see your smoky eyes
Right across the bar
Ive seen that look before
Shining from star to star
Though I cant take that chance
If you got time for one dance
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight.
The restless line of cars
Goes stretchin down the road
But I wont telephone
cause you might say hello
What is it makes me feel this way?
What is it makes me want to say
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight
Meet me at the wrecking ball
Wrecking ball
Wear something pretty and white
And well go dancin tonight.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fairies Call.
A thing that did me enthral,
Was an invitation to a Fairy Ball.
Pixies and Gnomes, Fairies and Elves,
All came to the ball dressed as themselves.
An orchestra of Leprechauns played a tune,
This all took place in the month of June.
Some were dancing while others ate a meal
I remember thinking that this was for real.
There was a banquet of delicious berries and fruits,
Served by Trolls dressed up in their very best suits.
To drink there was some Parsley wine,
Served in Golden Beakers that were so fine.
All in all it was a merry sight,
As pretty little Glow Worms lit up the starry night.
Then at the very crack of dawn,
I awoke in my bed with one big yawn.
I was pleased to have been invited to the Fairy Ball,
And I will listen again for the Fairies call.
poem by Bernard Shaw
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Whatever Happened To Pong?
My brother and me used to play it
Down at the bar
Taking money from guys
More used to the playing of cards
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now virtually everyones singing
A popular song
But I still believe in
In the excellent joy of the pong
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
To the paddle the paddle the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Pong
Ball in the machine
Now if they take it h.g. wells
Well, Ill be on the first flight
To a time before the kong
Whatever happended to pong?
Paddle the paddle to the side to the side
To the side to the side to the paddle the paddle
Paddle the paddle the side to the side
Pong
Ball in the machine
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stereotypical.
Beauty and the BEAST,
Cinderella and the UGLY SISTERS,
Rapunzel and the WITCH,
Red Riding and the WOLF,
Goldilocks and the 3 BEARS,
Princess and RUMPLESTILTSKIN,
3 Goats and the TROLL,
Jack and the GIANT.
Good or BAD?
Pretty or UGLY?
I call it stereotypical.
poem by Charlotte Harris
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Modern Cinderella
I'm a modern Cinderella.
I wish I was more like Twighlight's Bella.
But i'm locked away.
It's like that everyday.
I'm the modern Cinderella.
I wish I was the Enchanted Ella.
My family wants to get rid of me.
This no one really sees.
I'm the Modern Cinderella.
Never mind Bella.
I'm meeting you for the very first time.
This the day I challenge my self to sing 'The Climb.'
I'm the modern Cinderella
Never mind Ella.
We feel in love at first sight.
Now the clock strikes midnight.
I'm the modern Cinderella.
Never the orginal.
Never mind Bella.
Never mind Ella.
I don't run in flight.
I'm prepared to fight.
I'm the modern Cinderella.
See me as I am.
See the real me.
Not the person I pretened to be.
I'm the modern Cinderella.
Nothing like the original.
Not like Bella.
Not like Ella.
Now i've found my modern Prince.
I am me.
I'm the Modern Cinderella....
poem by Desiree Bradford
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My Cinderella
Gently into the bright future I sway;
Then I met her so fair on my way and
To her beauty a gaze I never say nay. For
In her I see the face of my Cinderella.
Her fairness no comparism, my confession-
Be of the damsel who in heart is full of passion. That
My desire of her I cannot hold back my emotion'
To call her my Cinderella.
The dance of her beauty leaves no measure.
Capturing my fantasy in great pleasure;
Forever with her be my time leisure
To always have a dance with her, my Cinderella.
Round in the shadowy whirl wind of fantasy;
Goes a great sense of me ecstasy-
With streams of passionate intimacy
To always behold her so pretty- my Cinderella.
Behold! Illusions now come to reality.
Imagination in great confidence calleth opportunity
Featuring the heart in that sense of utility'
Of having the one who shall be my Cinderella.
Shall I not look upon your beauty, that
Like a dance in the Milky Way
With heart full of appreciation of
Your majestic effervescence
Say… You are MY CINDERELLA.
poem by Okoronkwo Jonathan Jackson
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Keep Under Cover
Love, Im going to pick you up in the morning
Love, Im going to take you out on a journey
I dont know where Im going to
But I know what Ive been going through
Without you by my side
What good is butter if you havent got bread?
What good is art when it hurts your head?
Might as well be in bed
Keep under cover til the battle has ceased
Keep out of trouble til the prisoners are released
What goods a puzzle when you havent a clue?
What good is me when Im not with you?
Might as well stay in bed
Keep under cover til the clouds desappear
Keep out of trouble til the weather is bright and clear
Love, Im going to pick you up
Im going to take you out
I dont know what Im going to do
But I know what Ive been going through
Without you by my side
Without you by my side
What good is tennis when there isnt a ball?
What goods a curtain without a call?
Might as well be in bed
Keep under cover til the battle has ceased
Keep out of trouble til the prisoners are released
Love, Im going to pick you up
Im going to take you out
I dont know what Im going to do
But I know what Ive been going through
Without you by my side
Without you by my side
Keep under cover
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cinderella
You always read about it:
the plumber with the twelve children
who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.
From toilets to riches.
That story.
Or the nursemaid,
some luscious sweet from Denmark
who captures the oldest son's heart.
from diapers to Dior.
That story.
Or a milkman who serves the wealthy,
eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk,
the white truck like an ambulance
who goes into real estate
and makes a pile.
From homogenized to martinis at lunch.
Or the charwoman
who is on the bus when it cracks up
and collects enough from the insurance.
From mops to Bonwit Teller.
That story.
Once
the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed
and she said to her daughter Cinderella:
Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile
down from heaven in the seam of a cloud.
The man took another wife who had
two daughters, pretty enough
but with hearts like blackjacks.
Cinderella was their maid.
She slept on the sooty hearth each night
and walked around looking like Al Jolson.
Her father brought presents home from town,
jewels and gowns for the other women
but the twig of a tree for Cinderella.
She planted that twig on her mother's grave
and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat.
Whenever she wished for anything the dove
would dropp it like an egg upon the ground.
The bird is important, my dears, so heed him.
Next came the ball, as you all know.
It was a marriage market.
The prince was looking for a wife.
All but Cinderella were preparing
and gussying up for the event.
Cinderella begged to go too.
Her stepmother threw a dish of lentils
into the cinders and said: Pick them
up in an hour and you shall go.
The white dove brought all his friends;
all the warm wings of the fatherland came,
and picked up the lentils in a jiffy.
No, Cinderella, said the stepmother,
you have no clothes and cannot dance.
That's the way with stepmothers.
Cinderella went to the tree at the grave
and cried forth like a gospel singer:
Mama! Mama! My turtledove,
send me to the prince's ball!
The bird dropped down a golden dress
and delicate little slippers.
Rather a large package for a simple bird.
So she went. Which is no surprise.
Her stepmother and sisters didn't
recognize her without her cinder face
and the prince took her hand on the spot
and danced with no other the whole day.
As nightfall came she thought she'd better
get home. The prince walked her home
and she disappeared into the pigeon house
and although the prince took an axe and broke
it open she was gone. Back to her cinders.
These events repeated themselves for three days.
However on the third day the prince
covered the palace steps with cobbler's wax
and Cinderella's gold shoe stuck upon it.
Now he would find whom the shoe fit
and find his strange dancing girl for keeps.
He went to their house and the two sisters
were delighted because they had lovely feet.
The eldest went into a room to try the slipper on
but her big toe got in the way so she simply
sliced it off and put on the slipper.
The prince rode away with her until the white dove
told him to look at the blood pouring forth.
That is the way with amputations.
They just don't heal up like a wish.
The other sister cut off her heel
but the blood told as blood will.
The prince was getting tired.
He began to feel like a shoe salesman.
But he gave it one last try.
This time Cinderella fit into the shoe
like a love letter into its envelope.
At the wedding ceremony
the two sisters came to curry favor
and the white dove pecked their eyes out.
Two hollow spots were left
like soup spoons.
Cinderella and the prince
lived, they say, happily ever after,
like two dolls in a museum case
never bothered by diapers or dust,
never arguing over the timing of an egg,
never telling the same story twice,
never getting a middle-aged spread,
their darling smiles pasted on for eternity.
Regular Bobbsey Twins.
That story.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Cinderella Renewed
there was once a girl I knew
Her name was Cinderella
But Cinderella is way too long
We'll call her just Ella
Ella was a spoilt kid
Oh yes, she was
She rather barks than talks
not someone to cross
Then Gloomy air Spread everywhere
As her mother died with heart attack
All relatives cried at the news
Ella also did, but it was fake
His father married again
The lady had daughters of her own
Beautiful they were, oh yes
Names: Isabella and Sharon
Our Cinderella was very jealous
girls had taken her place, not one but two
Ella wanted to take revenge
From the girls, and their mother too!
But before she could do anything
The handsome prince called a ball
All the maidens were invited
It was to take place in the castle's hall
Excitement arose everywhere
Beautiful looked our Cinderella
But her stepsisters were their too
And their was no match for Isabella
The prince walked in the room
His eyes fell on Isabella
He asked her for a dance
And not our Cinderella
Soon the news spread through the kingdom
Prince and Isabella were to marry, no pretend
But then something happened
The prince chose Cinderella instead!
on the marriage day, bells rang
Ella and prince were coupled
But prince looked so forlorn and sad
As though he had just been crumpled
And as the carriage went, people wondered
What was it, that had dejected him
But we know the truth, that
Cinderella had a revolver to torture him!
poem by Myra Ahmad
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Cinderella And The Dog
Cinderella and her dog
sat at home on the old log.
Sisters had gone to the dance
homely ones did have no chance.
Said the dog 'my Cinderella,
may I be this evening's fella,
we could wash and dress with care
and could make a handsome pair.'
She had raised her bushy brow,
asked the clever dog just how
they would get into the castle
while avoiding a big hassle.
'You are nothing but a mutt,
always scratching your big butt,
full of craziness and fleas
barely reach up to my knees.'
Dog had motives quite ulterior,
said 'I'm not at all inferior,
every dog, on the inside
hides a man beneath his hide.
All it needs is one French Kiss,
which in turn produces bliss,
makes me into your own prince
(turns away and quickly grins) ,
Bravely Cinderella acts,
knowing only half the facts.
Kisses him for one whole hour
to release that magic power.
But no miracle breaks free,
dog lifts leg now, just to pee,
doesn't seem the least surprised,
she has still not realised
that the dog has pulled her leg.
So she now begins to beg:
'I will kiss you one more time,
please come out, man in your prime.
Let me tell you that your breath
is far worse than Father Death.'
So, they kiss again and linger
as the Emperor's own singer
happens to be wand'ring by,
carrying a rhubarb pie.
'Sir', pleads pretty Cinderella,
you, the singer Pico Bella,
can you give us some advice? '
Pico says 'You have nice eyes,
but a mutt will stay a mutt,
into man a mutt cannot
metamorph through simple kissing,
since he has genetics missing.'
Well, she turned now to the critter,
hot, enraged and really bitter,
'How could YOU, a lowly dog
who sleeps in a hollow log
trick me into kissing French
with your halitosis stench? '
'Look', he answered, 'truly sorry,
first, I had to have a story,
all my life I've not been kissed,
but I am a journalist.
Hired by the King's own wife,
never gotten into strife.
Learned that one can grab a chance
if the lady likes to dance.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Pretty Please Prince Charming
After lots of thinking
I thought I didn't want you
I thought wrong
Oh, so very wrong
You'll never know
But I know how big a mistake I made
When I let you go
But you truly loved me once
So could you again
I can do it right this time
Or am I a little late
Give me one more chance
Third time lucky, right?
Would you still let me be your Cinderella
Pretty please, Prince Charming
We can still make the ball...
poem by abi Whitaker
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Not a Cinderella.
As i sit alone tongiht
i have realized
that someone like me
can never be
a cinderella
no matter how hard i try
i know htat if you look in my eyes
way deep inside
you will see my mistakes
and know that its to late
i have no fairy godmother
even though i try to change
ill have this past forever
all these scars and btoken dreams
ill never be pretty enough
you can plainly see
so once again
my day is to end
with a simple dream
but we both know
that i will never be
a cinderella
as i fall to my knees
i guess all i can do
is learn to be
the one and true
me.
poem by Rebecca .C.
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Tarantella for Cinderella - Parody Hilaire BELLOC - Tarantella
Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
And the prancing, glancing, dancing
of blissed eyes Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
And the prancing, glancing, dancing
of blissed eyes Chance kissed romancing;
and the breeeze teasing sneeze when I fell to my knees with a bawl,
winter freezing causing wheezing, seizing me just when advancing,
causing you to forestall!
shining goblets fine wine full, lining guzzling gullets, free for all,
the vicious suspicious looks of ambitious
matrons with delicious daughters on call!
supercallifragilisticexpialidocious withal!
Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the free-for-all brawl?
Then the clock that twelve struck when luck ran amuck
when the slipper slipped ‘mid many
that it didn’t fit, - not any, neither Terri, Tonie, Jenny, -
And the hammering on the doors and the din?
And the hip! hop! hap! of the clap
of the reins on the rump on the pump-
kin’s horses clancing, prancing, fading hooves distancing.
Waiting not, with forceful trot they went, with wings lent,
and tlic! tloc! knock echoed far...
Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
Never more, Cinderella, what a bore! Only the fairy foresaw
the slipper left standing at the door. No trace! – none at all,
in the walls of the Hall where falls the face
of the Prince rincing eyes, for the foot-falls
echo like the boom of doom in an empty room
while the footman horsing around with the kitchen maid
made merry with the sherry on the fly which wasn't very
prim and proper till p'lice copper came and played
on his whistle calling order be obeyed
with his siren shrilling, silver badge displayed.
In this New Year now I'm chasing shadows everywhere retracing
Cinderella's steps my heart can't bear replacing,
pacing here and there and up and down unlacing
treasured slipper pleasure's promise acts as casing,
spacing out without her footloose pulse a-racing,
only pain remains it seems, vain dreams embracing...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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My strangest media moment a photo session they all had dressed up like 50 gangsters. That was pretty cool. We have to get some more of those kind of photos sometimes.
quote by Kerry King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hit the ball pretty solid. Haven't played a lot of golf this year, so was really unsure of what it would be like. I've been playing pretty well lately, especially hitting the ball solid.
quote by Trent Dilfer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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