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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4)


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Old 16-06-2013, 19:28
Noe Soap
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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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Old 16-06-2013, 19:52
mr. mustard
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That sounds interesting. Hope the rain cleared up for you - it'll be interesting to hear how it went.
I didn't go in the end Biz, I just wasn't in the right mood.

Wonderfully descriptive Musty.
Thanks Troy, I'm glad you still read the thread

When 'our' winter comes, we look and see,
The buds of hope hidden in that Winter tree.
Nice one Flower, a good positive message One tree poem inspires another

One time would resort to buckets
say:"how" now say: "**** it!"
I really laughed at that bit Frank Another very entertaining look at history, thanks for sharing it
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Old 16-06-2013, 20:24
Biz
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Plain Indian Speaking

Deplaning
in sinfully costly trainers
as if to mock our sins.
Hahaha, moccasins, very witty. I'll guess you're writing for an American audience Frank.

I didn't go in the end Biz, I just wasn't in the right mood.
Sorry to hear that Musty
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Old 17-06-2013, 13:58
sandydune
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I didn't go in the end Biz, I just wasn't in the right mood.

Sorry to hear that Musty
That's a pity Musty, hope you had a pleasant Sunday even if you may have been not feeling your best.

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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Old 17-06-2013, 16:37
Biz
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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.
Ooooh yes Sandy, I'll subscribe to that.
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Old 18-06-2013, 23:10
mr. mustard
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that have walked a journey
of an uphill toil
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
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Old 19-06-2013, 09:19
mr. mustard
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Hahaha, moccasins, very witty. I'll guess you're writing for an American audience Frank.
Well done for noticing that Biz, Frank's play on words there went right over my head
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Old 19-06-2013, 10:02
sandydune
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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
Thanks Musty 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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Old 19-06-2013, 14:39
scottie2121
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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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Old 19-06-2013, 16:31
Noe Soap
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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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Old 19-06-2013, 22:02
mr. mustard
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I'll look forward to your poems tomorrow, glad you had a nice trip to the Tate.
Hi Sandy 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

Back, again back,
to smoke and ash,
back, again back,
to smoke and ash.
Tears are rolling down my face Scottie 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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Old 20-06-2013, 12:17
mr. mustard
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I came across it
buried, deep, under the faded bric-a-brac of a life.
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

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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Old 20-06-2013, 14:41
scottie2121
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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
Thanks so much for the feedback and for the comments by Noe Soap.

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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Old 20-06-2013, 14:58
Biz
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My Late Mother’s Coat
Thanks so much for the feedback - it's not about an actual event but the thoughts of loss and love are very real.
I thought it was a lovely poem too Scottie, and I'm pleased it didn't refer to your own real life experience. I would have answered earlier but I knew it would strike a chord with Musty.
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Old 20-06-2013, 15:11
mr. mustard
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I would have answered earlier but I knew it would strike a chord with Musty.
Thank you Biz
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Old 20-06-2013, 16:46
mr. mustard
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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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Old 20-06-2013, 17:47
Biz
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Terror at the Garden Centre

©
Uhuh! I wouldn't indulge in that stuff again if I were you.

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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Old 20-06-2013, 18:26
sandydune
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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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Old 21-06-2013, 11:38
mr. mustard
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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 bought one at a garden centre last year Biz I've got it on the mantelpiece now

Watch out for the gnomes Musty
I always do Sandy, those little blighters can be vicious And apologies to Tomorite for my latest typo
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Old 21-06-2013, 12:07
Biz
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I bought one at a garden centre last year Biz I've got it on the mantelpiece now
Hahahaha snap. I have a blue flower fairy stuck in a blue and white artificial flower arrangement in my sitting room - she's been there for years.
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Old 21-06-2013, 13:47
sandydune
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I always do Sandy, those little blighters can be vicious And apologies to Tomorite for my latest typo
I didn't notice your typo
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Old 21-06-2013, 14:31
Biz
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I didn't notice your typo
I didn't even know what it was Sandy.
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Old 21-06-2013, 15:07
sandydune
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I didn't even know what it was Sandy.
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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Old 21-06-2013, 16:13
Biz
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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?
Hahaha love it. Tomatoes, who'd have thought it?
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Old 22-06-2013, 07:54
mr. mustard
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Musty, what's tomato with you?
Hahaha love it. Tomatoes, who'd have thought it?
Here's the funny thing people - I don't grow tomatoes but I heard on the radio that Tomorite is excellent for flowers! It's true, everything blooms at an incredible rate on a small dose of this tomato feed 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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