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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 3) |
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#4026 |
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Two Hours Can Last Forever
We live deep in Kent and our street's heaven-sent, On our house a sizeable fortune’s been spent, Fine antiques and furniture comfort me, though Possessions can’t conquer a middle-aged low. My husband goes absent, for Rodney the dear Drives off to the Open without fail each year, In Scotland or Ireland he’ll book there to watch The golf with his pals and of course to drink scotch. And after he’s vanished I don’t really long To see him again and I've vetoed 'our song', It used to be Close To You when we were young But now it's Goodbye To Love, so sadly sung. While Rodney’s enjoying the swings and pars scored My freedom returns and I’m no longer bored, For mice love to play when the cat’s far away At some bar or other along the Links way. I ring up my best friend who’s half round the bend, Miranda’s inclined to buck every dull trend, She always moves in after Rodney has gone, We drink wine, catch up, then the glad-rags we don. Our yearly pub crawls seem like breaking the rules For seven nights only, yet Rodney's got balls And bunkers and irons and fairways that swell, So why can't I have a few pleasures as well? One night I wore something exceedingly short While out on the razz with Miranda, who thought A chap on a barstool liked what he could see, I blamed it on that dress, it couldn't be me. Returning his look from the pub’s corner nook I beckoned him over, great courage it took, Miranda tried not to crack up till she laughed, Aware I lacked skill in the singleton craft. How long since a man gazed I couldn’t recall, It flattered if anyone noticed at all, His name it was Victor, a stranger and yet The passion I trusted since our eyes first met. He slowly walked over then near me he sat And I must confess I was happy with that, Miranda went off to buy more Spanish red Which left us alone with so much to be said. Our tastes were alike and as laughs quelled my fears Somehow I felt real for the first time in years, We shared the same wavelength which meant on the night For just a short time Victor, you made things right. He joined us at eight and departed at ten, I never saw Victor's face ever again But parts of the night were exclusively mine: From romance and warmth to the last of the wine. Miranda and I staggered home in a while, She left and the next week I gave a fake smile When Rodney returned, nothing changes it seems Including this love for the man of my dreams. © |
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#4027 |
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Quote:
Two Hours Can Last Forever
© ![]() From the very beginning I had a feeling of foreboding, was it going to be robbery by a gang? Then I was concerned about the message being sent out by her dress and demeanor - and the fact that Miranda wasn't a staid sensible friend...............but I ask you Victor!!! Beckoning a strange man over in a bar - was she asking for trouble? Would she take him home with her? A never ending two hours - it didn't look good. What a relief that he turned out to be a decent fellow. Sad about the marriage though - she sounds a bit of an idiot actually; I feel sorry for Rodney.
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#4028 |
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Wow, you haven't lost your touch.
![]() Beckoning a strange man over in a bar - was she asking for trouble? Would she take him home with her? A never ending two hours - it didn't look good. What a relief that he turned out to be a decent fellow. The poem's actually an oldie and a personal favourite of mine - it reminds me a bit of those enjoyable old plays we used to get on telly years ago I'm glad it kept you guessing throughout too!
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#4029 |
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Hi Biz
The poem's actually an oldie and a personal favourite of mine - it reminds me a bit of those enjoyable old plays we used to get on telly years ago I'm glad it kept you guessing throughout too! ![]() I know what you mean about the old plays.I see Frank hasn't posted his daily poem for April. |
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#4030 |
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Ah, that explains it. I thought you'd made an unexpectedly swift recovery.
![]() Two Hours was written in total support of the wife, who had a stale marriage and a husband who seemed oblivious. Admittedly I didn't give him much time. So your assessment of her as an idiot completely surprised me Biz, as did your sympathy for Rodney. But now I can see she was quite lucky to be well off and with a little effort maybe the marriage could improve too.I always listen to women's viewpoints, partly because time and again their instincts about people turn out to be right - not only that, these are connections that I don't even remotely recognise myself. I recently watched the classic BBC play Abigail's Party with two female friends; I got about eight new insights into the play, which I know very well, that had never occurred to me even once before. It's a funny old world
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#4031 |
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The West Kennet Avenue (At Avebury)
Come and see the serpentine Winding, snaking sacred line Ripely belly to the ring, Cosmic visions it can bring. In the avenue there stood Megaliths affixed for good, All two hundred in a row Guaranteed an awesome show. Male and female matching ones Faced each other, upright tons Gave the sexy girl-stones glue, Opposites attract, it's true. Measuring a country mile And a half, they made the style Of this monument to suit Long processions down a route. Watchers watched and cheered and danced As participants advanced Through the avenue which led To the henge that loomed ahead. Maybe if the darkness fell Beacons lit their path as well, Flickering and giving back Strength to shun night's dreadful black. When the bank at last was breached Some great human high was reached, I can hear the roars of sound As they entered godly ground. Still today on fields of green Echoes that pure pagan scene, Recognition's overdue For West Kennet Avenue. © |
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#4032 |
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That was a newie
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#4033 |
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The Cup's Story
a styrofoam cup my time is not up long gone the factory that gave me birth been here packed tight in earth for five hundred years lying whole in the land of the mole my permanent berth let me give feminists if not environmentalists hope I hear up there there's the world's first female pope but she still won't sanction the pill what a cock up say I the cup in my crater c u later. for Earth Day |
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#4034 |
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I was fascinated by your reaction to the poem. One part of writing that I love is stepping into others' shoes, and I seem to be able to do it with females too. Is that a bit strange?
Two Hours was written in total support of the wife, who had a stale marriage and a husband who seemed oblivious. Admittedly I didn't give him much time. So your assessment of her as an idiot completely surprised me Biz, as did your sympathy for Rodney. But now I can see she was quite lucky to be well off and with a little effort maybe the marriage could improve too.I always listen to women's viewpoints, partly because time and again their instincts about people turn out to be right - not only that, these are connections that I don't even remotely recognise myself. I recently watched the classic BBC play Abigail's Party with two female friends; I got about eight new insights into the play, which I know very well, that had never occurred to me even once before. It's a funny old world ![]() This is when she should have sat him down and told him how she felt. In a marriage which lasts happily. he would listen, they would talk and both make an effort - otherwise it would just get worse. Abigail's Party is the one where she boasts about her "paytio" if I remember correctly. I must watch it again if the opportunity arises.
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#4035 |
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Baby Elephant
I got a rusk,
Stuck on my tusk.
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#4036 |
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Quote:
The West Kennet Avenue (At Avebury)
© ![]() Quote:
The Cup's Story
for Earth Day
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#4037 |
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#4038 |
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I hear up there
there's the world's first female pope A female Pope - pigs might fly ![]() Quote:
This is when she should have sat him down and told him how she felt. In a marriage which lasts happily. he would listen, they would talk and both make an effort - otherwise it would just get worse.
Abigail's Party was about the dinner party from hell, with Alison Steadman as the awful Demis Roussos fan and host. It's cringe-inducing in the extreme ![]() http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-hXUehyRlE Quote:
I got a rusk,
Stuck on my tusk. ![]() ![]() Quote:
Your standing stones poems give an insight into communities of old, showing that people basically don't change, just that the focus of their feeling of belonging does.
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#4039 |
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#4040 |
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Thank you.
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#4041 |
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How strange that a poem can create such a lot of meaning from what it didn't state. You've filled in the missing half for me Biz ![]() ![]() Quote:
Abigail's Party was about the dinner party from hell, with Alison Steadman as the awful Demis Roussos fan and host. It's cringe-inducing in the extreme Yes that clip reminded me - I don't think I could sit through it again. ![]() http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-hXUehyRlE ![]() Quote:
Ta Biz - you can probably guess the theme of the next book It's logical.
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#4042 |
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Of course Rodney could have been cold, selfish and disinterested, in which case she just stayed with him for the material comfort and the money - we'll never know. Unless you write a sequel.
![]() A sequel's a good idea but I don't think I could ever top the night out and what I like about Two Hours; it's one of those where I get pictures of the people and the settings in my head as I read it. Maybe Rodney's best left as the obscure golf-loving husband
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#4043 |
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Milo O'Shea's mad expressive eyes
On an excessive machine Jane the body Fonda lies. |
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#4044 |
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The Day That They Invaded
The West End evening bustled, The packed consumers there Seemed happy where we tussled So blithely unaware. And as I heard the mother Of all roars from above I hastily took cover Out of the push and shove. By Costa Coffee's tables I watched the crafts appear, Beneath them spread dark cables As did the screams of fear. The ships grew even bigger, The shoppers scattered fast And I felt like a figure John Wyndham could have cast. A cinema exploded, The air began to cook, The world we made eroded When Tottenham Court Road shook. I ran and felt a tingle, As panic on the streets Recalled an old Smiths single Shots came from orange seats. The aliens were firing With London in their coils, I staggered off perspiring Just as they blew up Foyles. My mind became erratic, I fled to zones I knew But melted cars lay static Down Shaftesbury Avenue. Half Leicester Square had crumbled, While Eros aimed and burned The injured blindly stumbled And every cry I spurned. I witnessed by the river A vast machine on wheels Then noticed with a shiver Its crew of eight foot eels. In empty shops I cower, They've smashed the internet And hunt us every hour But haven't found me yet. I'm in a Marks & Spencers, Soon after I have fed Tonight I'll watch green sensors Shine over London's dead. How wise we masqueraded Yet now it's all a blur: The day that they invaded Confirmed how weak we were. © |
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#4045 |
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Rodney looms larger now through all your insights Biz
A sequel's a good idea but I don't think I could ever top the night out and what I like about Two Hours; it's one of those where I get pictures of the people and the settings in my head as I read it. Maybe Rodney's best left as the obscure golf-loving husband ![]() ![]() Quote:
The Day That They Invaded
© Enjoy today, we don't know what tomorrow might bring - I'm not going to smile or grin.
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#4046 |
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[quote=mr. mustard;65522511]The Day That They Invaded
I've always liked War of the Worlds the original novel. Enjoyed your telling Musty of a similar story in poem form. Frank |
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#4047 |
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The Fastest Guns
Many men in the West lived by the gun. Tyro was only one, he faced each job when called upon had never run away from a call-out. The day was hot his aim preset, he wiped a bead of sweat eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. Tyro was firm of step he had to do what he had to do - yep his kind knew the code, hit the appointed road at his due time. Heard the chime his hand on gun went tense, he saw an awesome expanse before him loom, one enormous fence! Tuson Paint Sprayers would face it as their ad said they're the fastest in the West at doing what they did the best. |
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#4048 |
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Enjoy today, we don't know what tomorrow might bring - I'm not going to smile or grin. ![]() Quote:
I've always liked The War of the Worlds the original novel. Enjoyed your telling Musty of a similar story in poem form. Frank
The poem was influenced by The War Of The Worlds Frank. It's always nice to drop a few heroes into poems, like the Smiths and John Wyndham. His The Day Of The Triffids and The Midwich Cuckoos are definitely science fiction classics Quote:
Tuson Paint Sprayers would face it
as their ad said they're the fastest I thought this was about gangsters at first
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#4049 |
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Another take on Two Hours has been given in America, I'm really enjoying this
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#4050 |
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What pretext prefers text over a
simple sensation of conversation? |
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