Ulysseian Wonderings.
The fire spits and crackles
Gently.
And the wind
Mouths melodies
Over the tallest stacks.
A conversation of intimacy.
Slow steady breathing from
The sleeping potter.
And I become acquainted
With Stephen Dedalus.
Strutting his stuff
Cocky as a wagtail
On the streets of “Dirty Dublin”.
(Gerry Snape)
(Image of Grafton Street 1900s....found on Google.)
Oh how hose Jesuits taught the duality of man. This little piece makes Dedalus sound like not a Joyce character but Dickensian. Like it--a lot.
ReplyDeleteMark...you can say that again!! Joyce liked to think of himself as a Dickens for Ireland type....that's for sure. Thankyou.
ReplyDeleteone line to the next, your images are terrific, with Lines 6 and 9 tying everything so beautifully together. great poetry.
ReplyDeleteNOt sure where my first comment went. anyway, this is a great poem. I am caught in your image-rich lines, each to the next so vivid. The subtle connection between lines 6 and 9 is truly brilliant.
ReplyDeleteJane...thankyou so much for your encouragement. I'm sort of deeply into revisiting a lot of my early backround in literature...and these thoughts keep popping up in the verse I'm writing.
Deleteah you transport me right there with you imagery...and a rather fun jaunt through it as well...love the sounds in your opening lines...a conversation of intimacy...smiles. like.
ReplyDeleteI love this Gerry. It is nice to be back from holiday.
ReplyDeletevery cool...love the images...the crackling fire, the conversation of intimacy..you can def. get quite intimate with a city and its people and history...thanks for taking me there..
ReplyDelete