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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 3) |
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#4101 |
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A Wife's Memorial
Sandhu's wife had been the best thing about life, life being not a sinecure for sure when you're untouchable in India. He had lost that touch of one he loved so much when she caught her disease from bacteria and flies and sadly dies. This industrial malaise, cause of all his hurt's unease not recognised as such; society would not touch untouchables' distress or aleviate that mess of caste, let alone a husband's plight as he eked out a widower's mite to make a little last. No benefit to him no more slim pickings from the refuse dump, no sum of State compensation not even a lump. Losing Sanjana put Sandhu more on the skids, no cook nor partner for four young kids. A life more miserable still when she left rending a heart disconsolate and bereft. He missed her as passionately as Shah Jahan did his Mumtaz Mahal, of course no such elegant memorial was in his gift yet that in his memory would never shift. And as a peerless Taj, whose white walls enshrined one husband's grief and tears recalls a rich emperor's loss so famously around the world poor Sandhu would on their anniversary day go down to where the Ganges swirled there was the private place that he had kissed her ashes away. |
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#4102 |
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the good earth
Know ye the good earth’s pliable And fertile as a friend, The good earth is reliable And I have some to tend. I love to clear away the spoil Then fold the substance back, Hands delving into virgin soil With fingers turning black. It yields the crop and when all’s right Supplies us bread and wine, By blessing it in prayers each night You’ll make the good earth thine. I saw how arid farmlands burned As drought left acres slain, Behold ye now the ground has churned, Relieved by timely rain. The good earth is a gift to till, Our harvest comes from loam That I shall dig and plough until The good earth is my home. © |
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#4103 |
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Quote:
A Wife's Memorial
I've still got loads to catch up on and I haven't forgotten the backlog
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#4104 |
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Join Date: May 2006
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Johnny Cash at Folsom
Johnny sings to a captive audience who have paid expensively for their entrance (loss of liberty) the State's ticket to a "free" concert. California filled seats with hard arses, donated special passes and miked the crowd for criminals' responses loud, proud and unbowed in prison OK but lovin' it. As Folsom Prison rocked the cell blocks unlocked men cheer and yell they dig the stories that Cash is here to tell, all live sounds goes in the can rolled on out to a vinyl recording van. They enjoy his Folsom Prison Blues the sort of dark sentiment they could use being behind bars with no excuse. Every wry and sombre word was fine by them he amused, he'd walked that line did not condemn. Cash drawled the killer line how he had shot a man just to see him die with the uproar of clapping hear jailbirds get up and fly. |
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#4105 |
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Quote:
He missed her as passionately as Shah
Jahan did his Mumtaz Mahal, of course Quote:
As Folsom Prison rocked the cell
blocks unlocked men cheer and yell What pictures you paint Frank - you've captured why hardened criminals would take to a singer like Johnny Cash. I love the bit where he sings of killing a man, I could almost hear the prisoners' roars echoing round the jail! Great imagery
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#4106 |
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Letter from HQ
Afraid of ancient Avebury The Christians used to be, That’s why chose to bury Its megaliths with glee. I don’t mind if old bones are Left in a tomb of black Yet knowing where the stones are, Why don’t we put them back? So I wrote off to HQ On digging up each rock; Their answer may well shake you, Read on and then take stock: 'Thanks for your kind suggestion But here's the final word - There really is no question, The slabs must stay interred. We have the finest knowledge, Our best scholars see far And word is from each college They should rest where they are. Regardless of complaining Those marvels won’t be raised, A dig might crush remaining Flint tools and pots kiln-glazed. While we possess broad shoulders And much donated cash Retrieving sacred boulders Would be a trifle rash. Though true they could be ferried To their ring without fail, How megaliths were buried Is part of Avebury’s tale. Of course our ancient history Is vital to the state And lost stones make a mystery, What’s absent can look great. We recognise the pattern Yet like the National Trust We won’t pick up the baton, Prevaricate we must. We’d like to thank you dearly, To query us was right, From HQ yours sincerely, Keep visiting the site.’ © |
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#4107 |
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I'm in the strange position of having more than twelve new poems in the bag
But they're all on Avebury and are being saved for the book. Letter from HQ is an oldie I've polished up and is the last book entry I'll be posting. Roll on July
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#4108 |
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I suspect you've spotted a market for your Avebury volume Musty.
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#4109 |
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Re: Letter From HQ Musty; should there be a "they" in the third line? Far be it from me etc... but it seems to work better like That’s why they chose to bury.
All great stuff as usual and I think I just might revisit Avebury later this year - post publication. ![]() (I say 'revisit', but the last time was a barely remembered school trip, long long ago.) |
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#4110 |
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Hello Archiver, I think you're right and that's what he thought he'd put. I tend to read what I think is there.
![]() Hope you're feeling better.
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#4111 |
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Return
Something to hold close, near and dear Someone to remember far, away and lost Somewhere to return whole, intact and complete. |
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#4112 |
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Quite a bit better thanks Biz. Still got a pretty bad cough, but it'll go eventually I think...
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#4113 |
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Quote:
I suspect you've spotted a market for your Avebury volume Musty.
![]() Quote:
Re: Letter From HQ Musty; should there be a "they" in the third line? Far be it from me etc... but it seems to work better like That’s why they chose to bury.
I'm always grateful when mistakes are pointed out, I can amend that in the files now. I wish my school had taken us to Avebury! I'm going back soon before the book's photo session in the summer. The Red Lion's going to receive a poem - along with several cottages and a chapel, it's part of the village that remains within the great outer circle. I'm going to enjoy the research there Glad to hear you feel a bit better ![]() Quote:
Somewhere to return
whole, intact and complete. This one reminds me of the thread, as well as love.
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#4114 |
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Quote:
Your poems are always beautiful Sandy
This one reminds me of the thread, as well as love.![]() I enjoy your poems, tales of history, not forgotten and retold in a poem.
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#4115 |
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Quote:
I'm really not sure Biz. Despite its size Avebury remains unknown to many. But while it's nowhere near as famous as Stonehenge, it'll be nice to promote a little-known site. Whether there's an audience for it is another question.
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#4116 |
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Quote:
Thanks Archiver
I'm always grateful when mistakes are pointed out, I can amend that in the files now. I wish my school had taken us to Avebury! I'm going back soon before the book's photo session in the summer. The Red Lion's going to receive a poem - along with several cottages and a chapel, it's part of the village that remains within the great outer circle. I'm going to enjoy the research there Glad to hear you feel a bit better ![]() ![]() I've just noticed that Google Earth StreetView takes you right up close to the stones in the great outer circle. Not quite the same as being there though. |
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#4117 |
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Fading Away
In the night shelters of London you will find many old soldiers, there who did good service for their country but not got back a decent share. Mental illness, homeless, men cities abandon, worthies or not they don't care. Hard in structure stone-centred metropolises' hearts do not give. A military flotsam, poor veterans will wash up on concrete strand. Unminded, left desolutely to live, moved on, epitaph to fade away. (my 30th & last US NPM poem) Frank |
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#4118 |
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Join Date: Mar 2011
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A Patch of Old Snow
There's a patch of old snow in a corner That I should have guessed Was a blow-away paper the rain Had brought to rest. It is speckled with grime as if Small print overspread it, The news of a day I've forgotten -- If I ever read it. Robert Frost |
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#4119 |
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Quote:
Fading Away
(my 30th & last US NPM poem) Frank ![]() And a sad tale to end on - it makes me wonder why those many millions are given away in aid, instead of looking after our own.
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#4120 |
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Quote:
I enjoy your poems, tales of history, not forgotten and retold in a poem.
![]() ![]() Quote:
My first thought was the shop at Avebury, but other tourist places might be of interest.
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Not quite the same as being there though.
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Unminded, left desolutely to live,
moved on, epitaph to fade away. A nice tribute to the forgotten Frank.Quote:
The news of a day I've forgotten --
If I ever read it. |
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#4121 |
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Quote:
The Henge Shop is great Biz and its poem is already written ![]()
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#4122 |
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The Ship Sails
The ship sails , she waves goodbye he on his travels, her a distant cry one photo divide, each with it's part his in his pocket, hers in a sigh. travel wisely, awaiting your return as cheers applaud, award a reply. |
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#4123 |
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Quote:
Wow! Really? That is a surprise.
![]() It's independent too, neither English Heritage or National Trust, which gives the items stocked a unique feel My calendar for this year is one of theirs ![]() Quote:
his in his pocket, hers in a sigh.
What a lovely poem relating to the distance and separation involved in sea travel. I particularly love the line I quoted
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#4124 |
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Quote:
Another great write Sandy
What a lovely poem relating to the distance and separation involved in sea travel. I particularly love the line I quoted ![]()
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#4125 |
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Quote:
Thanks Musty
![]() No new material from me for a while, as I'm up to my neck in the Avebury poems There isn't long to go before they're finished, but some research still remains. I'm using four books for facts and statistics. Most of the descriptions are from amazing personal memories and being awe-struck, but it'd be silly to colour every poem like that. Archeology is a good way of staying grounded when it's needed. Balance is all ![]() I'm just eating a lemon sherbert, they're delicious
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I've still got loads to catch up on and I haven't forgotten the backlog
