Monday, July 26

The Poetry Bus

I'm hoping to join The Poetry Bus...if they will let me on board. I've not been on it yet and have no idea where it will take me, but I've never been disappointed with any journeys that I've taken on other poetry transport, so I can't imagine that this will be any less exciting! Here goes...lets hope that it stops for me.

I believe that the subject this week is Confusion. So I'm already this year up to scratch!

Hilary

Hilary, Hilarious I think!
Three times
Ethics, morals, growing up
Passing it on.

Kites fly M40
You and me boy
You and me.

It's not definitive and I'm on line
Who's line?
Big sister, little sister, sister-in-the-middle
One brother, son and heir
                    Sun and air.

Counting up, counting down
County Down, Armagh, Tyrone and Belfast Town
Out of your safety zone.

Perhaps she's strong
Can cope with less comfort?
It's the locusts and little foxes to blame
They steal and destroy.
Watch out for the grapes of wrath.

I'm on line - the blood line
And I'm not alone.

Sing blackbird
        Sing No.1

Painted kites hover in the cold air with tails spread,
      Thinly spread, not enough to go round.
              Who knows where the end is?

Twenty five miles from Birmingham.

Crows wait to snatch up the carrion.
Think on.
Clean up your game Wiseman
Wise man?
All will be well, foolish heart.

Growing up in rarified air,
Growing old in terrified air.
                  [ Blackbird fly away].

" These are the tracks of our years"
Then I'll take the one less travelled.

"On the 13th level I can see everything".

Hemmed in, knitted together.
" My old man"..has no piece of City Hall paper,
Now he's gone
                     Put on the pan!

He was a singer in the bathroom
                     Sneak in and watch.

Never signed for little green
No flowers, no birthday clothes, much sorrow.
A mean old daddy all wind and snow
                                 snow and wind.

"Blue" [pale blue].
Lots of laughs
                    and lullabies

The news looks bad....
Ballyferris I'm coming home.
Just let me be a fantasist
And take me as I am.
Is faith enough for this crazy blackbird?
Does the evening star shine for everyone?

Keep to your line!
The blood line.
Babies cry and come up the Lagan in a bubble.
Jingle the money in your pocket.

You're in my blood like Holy Wine.
[She had a mouth like your's, blood red.]

Joni, you still sing my life.
Hiding today in that dark cafe
On a road less travelled - now unravelled.

James you still sing my life.
Travelling in the eye of the storm
With nowhere to go.

No more innocently walking in the sand, picking up shells
                                                     and   soft edged glass.

Time spent out of time.

     

11 comments:

  1. Welcome aboard Gerry, and wow what a ticket! It's extremely atmospheric, and suggestive - the homecoming, along with the music. I really like it, think I'm going to need a few trips back to fully appreciate it all.
    Thanks

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  2. Some very clever word-play here!

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  3. Thankyou Niamb, I'm always a wee bit nervous when trying to get somewhere new on the computer! So I'm glad I found you.

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  4. Like argent, I enjoyed the word play, largely based on word association, which I thought had had its day. Good to see someone resurrecting it!

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  5. Thankyou Dave I think what this exercise has shown me recently is that I love the play of words and images and also how those words roll around in both your head and your mouth.

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  6. Glad to see you on the Bus, Gerry. It's a wonder each week to see what each of us does with the prompt. Each view is unique. Welcome aboard.

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  7. Can you make sense from confusion? You did ~ perfectly!

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  8. There is an almost whimsical quality to this Gerry - and I love it.

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  9. Welcome on board the Poetry Bus, Gerry. I enjoyed reading your word association links from stanza to stanza. As I re-read this, I could see a couple poems within a poem. Nice!

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  10. There's a real road journey word-association feel about this piece, like when you lean your head against a train window and let the fields drift by. Great fun trying to get all the references!

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  11. Nice work Gerry a tumbling headlong helta skelta of a poem.Lovely!

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