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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4) |
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#226 |
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Join Date: May 2006
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Plain Indian Speaking
In the land of running water
modern Indians use a faucet. One time would resort to buckets say:"how" now say: "**** it!" Buy up condos bye bye tipi encased in concrete though get weepy, thinking of plains life and the bison, chiefs were heroes not a-holes like Tyson. God knows how today’s life's all planes and trips to Disneyland. Deplaning in sinfully costly trainers as if to mock our sins. Some may think of complaining to the skies once lorded by eagles. It's come to this once we were reigning alone – thanks. Now we're hyphenated Yanks. |
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#227 |
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Quote:
That sounds interesting. Hope the rain cleared up for you - it'll be interesting to hear how it went.
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Wonderfully descriptive Musty.
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When 'our' winter comes, we look and see,
The buds of hope hidden in that Winter tree. One tree poem inspires another ![]() Quote:
One time would resort to buckets
say:"how" now say: "**** it!" Another very entertaining look at history, thanks for sharing it
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#228 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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Quote:
Plain Indian Speaking
Deplaning in sinfully costly trainers as if to mock our sins. ![]() Quote:
I didn't go in the end Biz, I just wasn't in the right mood.
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#229 |
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I didn't go in the end Biz, I just wasn't in the right mood.
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Sorry to hear that Musty
A Rest A rest is as good as comfy slippers on weary feet that have walked a journey of an uphill toil to find a true realm patiently by your side quiet still the breath that sighs as the seat does fill with much cheer. |
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#230 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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Quote:
A Rest A rest is as good as comfy slippers on weary feet that have walked a journey of an uphill toil to find a true realm patiently by your side quiet still the breath that sighs as the seat does fill with much cheer.
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#231 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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that have walked a journey
of an uphill toil I've climbed many a hill on pilgrimages and this captures the feeling not only of rest, but of approaching ancient realms after a hard slog. The casual tourist arrives at places like Stonehenge by car, yet I find long walks to sites are the best way and much more spiritually uplifting. We were meant to walk and all such temples were originally visited on foot. A great write that many probably wouldn't perceive as I did.I had a good trip to London, the Tate Gallery's always inspirational. I'll be posting poems again from tomorrow
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#232 |
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Hahaha, moccasins, very witty. I'll guess you're writing for an American audience Frank.
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#233 |
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Gorgeous Sandy
I've climbed many a hill on pilgrimages and this captures the feeling not only of rest, but of approaching ancient realms after a hard slog. The casual tourist arrives at places like Stonehenge by car, yet I find long walks to sites are the best way and much more spiritually uplifting. We were meant to walk and all such temples were originally visited on foot. A great write that many probably wouldn't perceive as I did.I had a good trip to London, the Tate Gallery's always inspirational. I'll be posting poems again from tomorrow ![]() it's always nice to find a place to rest for a while.I'll look forward to your poems tomorrow, glad you had a nice trip to the Tate.
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#234 |
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Join Date: Jun 2012
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My Late Mother’s Coat
I came across it buried, deep, under the faded bric-a-brac of a life. Laid at the bottom of a box, neatly folded and wrapped, a crisp brown parcel, covered by a scattering of dust and papers. I eased the coat from its wrapping and let it fall into the shape of you, a woollen cast, small and light in my hands. You’d gone before I’d grown so I never knew the real size of you; but here, your neat figure, trimmed in satin and lace, hangs in front of me. I trace the abrasion of greens and browns, feel the pain of the thick warmth of the weave, and I want so so much to shrink back into the dense folds of the fabric; to force colour and words back to hazed memories and fill this shroud with your touch, your smell, your love. So I held you in my arms, and took you out to my garden - you would have liked it – and laid your coat on a bed of kindle and autumn leaves and watched as soft orange flames dissolved each fibre. Back, again back, to smoke and ash, back, again back, to smoke and ash. |
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#235 |
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[quote=scottie2121;66508383]My Late Mother’s Coat
So I held you in my arms, and took you out to my garden - you would have liked it – and laid your coat on a bed of kindle and autumn leaves and watched as soft orange flames dissolved each fibre. ]wow is this autobiographical scottie? moving fine prose poem with its reality. |
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#236 |
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I'll look forward to your poems tomorrow, glad you had a nice trip to the Tate.
![]() I had a great day today in the lovely weather, but writing-wise finishing the epic meant I had no time to post any other material The epic's very personal and very heavy. I hope it doesn't disturb anybody who reads it; it's important to remember the poem was written with hindsight ![]() Quote:
Back, again back,
to smoke and ash, back, again back, to smoke and ash. I think I'll have to comment on this tomorrow when I'm more composed and I have more distance from such an incredibly moving piece.
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#237 |
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Quote:
I came across it
buried, deep, under the faded bric-a-brac of a life. ![]() My heavy epic isn't ready yet, but I'll be posting another poem later that was delayed by three weeks of writing about Avebury
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#238 |
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This is just an amazing poem, so heart-felt, sad and honestly written it touches the soul. Recents events in my own life made it resonate even more. You have a way of making memories come to life Scottie and there's always something in your lines that grabs the reader and holds them with a sense of wonder or some other emotion. Thanks so much for sharing this
![]() To answer NS's question - it's not about an actual event but the thoughts of loss and love are very real. |
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#239 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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Quote:
My Late Mother’s Coat
Quote:
Thanks so much for the feedback - it's not about an actual event but the thoughts of loss and love are very real.
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#240 |
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I would have answered earlier but I knew it would strike a chord with Musty.
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#241 |
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Terror at the Garden Centre
The garden centre’s brightened By green things, but last week I left there pale and frightened By something quite unique. I’d gone to buy a flower, Top soil and Tomarite And yet within an hour I shivered and took flight. For lined up by the cacti Stood Triffids in a row, So vile a sight in fact I Felt knees knock and fear grow. Had no staff read John Wyndham And his dread sci-fi tale? I think they should have binned ‘em, Not put them up for sale. ‘This can’t be real, or can it?’ It baffled me how hell’s Crop from a distant planet Came here to Tunbridge Wells. The string tied round them lightly Could break and set one free Yet what seemed more unsightly Was ‘Buy One Get One Free’. A Triffid pair would scare twice As much, the evil vine Were bargain buys at their price Of ten pounds ninety-nine. They’d creep all over your path, With hate a Triffid roams, To see them on the warpath Would shock the cats and gnomes. Before I ran for cover From eyeless untamed looks I pondered on what other Shops might sell from famed books: I’d purchase Hiawatha And Tinkerbelle so twee, Or for a higher offer Loose Lady Chatterley. But back in horticulture Plant monsters longed to strike, Each seemed a haughty vulture, I’d never seen the like. Not fast as deer or pumas But stinging in a batch Means Triffids and consumers Are by no means a match. Out of the place I hurried, The shopping I would ditch Yet here’s what left me worried: I’m sure I saw one twitch. © |
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#242 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
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Quote:
Terror at the Garden Centre
© ![]() Here's me thinking of my garden as a place of peace and safety, but I'll be afraid to look out there at dusk in case it's been invaded. ![]() PS I happened to come across a garden firm today which is selling fairies to put at the bottom of your garden.
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#243 |
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Join Date: Jun 2011
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Terror at the Garden Centre
Out of the place I hurried, The shopping I would ditch Yet here’s what left me worried: I’m sure I saw one twitch. © Watch out for the gnomes Musty
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#244 |
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PS I happened to come across a garden firm today which is selling fairies to put at the bottom of your garden.
![]() I've got it on the mantelpiece now ![]() Quote:
Watch out for the gnomes Musty And apologies to Tomorite for my latest typo
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#245 |
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I bought one at a garden centre last year Biz
I've got it on the mantelpiece now ![]()
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#246 |
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I always do Sandy, those little blighters can be vicious
And apologies to Tomorite for my latest typo ![]()
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#247 |
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I didn't notice your typo
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#248 |
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I didn't even know what it was Sandy.
![]() ![]() Musty, what's tomato with you?
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#249 |
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I don't know either, never heard of it but looked it up and it's something to do with tomatoes
![]() Musty, what's tomato with you? ![]()
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#250 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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Musty, what's tomato with you?
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Hahaha love it. Tomatoes, who'd have thought it?
![]() Don't give them too much though or they go berserk and get too big I'm spending today transferring the Avebury poems from a full notebook onto a computer file. The weather's rotten, which is just what I need to get stuck into it ![]() My mantelpiece fairy has a blue dress and she's sitting on a pot holding a real cactus. I also have dragons, a knight in armour, several standing stones and a medieval-looking goblet. I've also got a miniature steam engine like Fred Dibnah's, an old green bus and a Colman's Mustard delivery van I love ornaments
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Another very entertaining look at history, thanks for sharing it
The epic's very personal and very heavy. I hope it doesn't disturb anybody who reads it; it's important to remember the poem was written with hindsight
I think I'll have to comment on this tomorrow when I'm more composed and I have more distance from such an incredibly moving piece.