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5808. alistairconnor - 9/20/2006 10:05:36 AM I enjoyed the poem the first time, but three times as much now...
Do another one! 5809. Seamus - 9/20/2006 4:10:15 PM Benbaun aubade
Busie olde foole, unruly Sunne;
Why dost thou thus,
Through windowes, and through curtaines call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
(from "The Sunne Rising" by John Donne)
Obsidian night,
unruly sun.
We spill off the dark
smoke wet wool
that burns
to swim in warm dew.
I am ploughman
of your feathered grasses
as sun-warmed sweat
rains over my back,
shines in your lips
and drips, drips down
where the urgent colder wet
connects us. Arching up,
I see fell runners.
The day's
first climbers
are coming
over the crags.
[Benbaun (Binn Bhán) is one of the Twelve Bens (Na Beanna Beola), a series of twelve quite modest peaks in Connemara of coastal west Ireland, where I am from. Fell running is an athletic event somewhat like cross-country, except that the course includes topping any number of mountain peaks--in the case of the Bens, all twelve.]
(Given what real poetry looks like in Mac's contribution, perhaps the epigraph for this should be changed to "You sir are no Kinsella".)
Seamus
5810. alistairconnor - 9/20/2006 6:19:29 PM I can't read that without moving my lips. And feeling vertigo too. Benbaun aubade. C'est pas de la daube. Works for me.
I was down Dingle way (not in May, but in July) and I climbed Brandon, hand in hand with my girls, a little way.
5811. seamus - 9/21/2006 5:41:13 AM Why, thanks, alistair.
If not a stew, then maybe a cold porridge.
Hold onto the Brandon memory. It sounds a good one.
Seamus 5812. Macnas - 9/21/2006 9:38:36 AM "You sir are no Kinsella"
Why should you be, sure aren't you already Seamus, nach bhuil? 5813. alistairconnor - 9/21/2006 1:46:11 PM ... he means he wouldn't sell his own kin. 5814. Macnas - 9/21/2006 2:45:30 PM A dhia dhilis, ta sin millteanach. 5815. Seamus - 9/21/2006 5:04:20 PM Which pun do you mean, Mac, alistair's or mine or perhaps both? 5816. RickNelson - 9/21/2006 6:36:53 PM "feathered grasses"
Perfect!
nuf said. 5817. Ulgine Barrows - 9/23/2006 6:14:30 AM Heartache Number One was when you left me
I never knew that I could hurt this way
Heartache Number Two was when you came back again
You came back and never meant to stay
Chorus:
Now I've got heartaches by the number
Troubles by the score
Every day you love me less
Each day I love you more
Now I've got heartaches by the number
A love that I can't win
But the day that I stop counting
That's the day my world will end
Heartache Number Three was when you called me
And told me you was coming home to stay
With hoping heart I waited for your knock on the door
I waited but you must have lost your way
Chorus:
Now I've got heartaches by the number
Troubles by the score
Every day you love me less
Each day I love you more
Now I've got heartaches by the number
A love that I can't win
But the day that I stop counting
That's the day my world will end
Ah, the day that I stop counting
That's the day my world will end
~Dwight Yoaku=am 5818. Ulgine Barrows - 9/23/2006 6:17:22 AM Gotta watch out for that heartache
Bonnie Tyler: It's A Heartache
Hear more from Bonnie Tyler:
The real lyrics were:
It's a heartache, nothing but a heartache...
But I misheard them as:
It's a hard egg, nothing but a hard egg... 5819. Ulgine Barrows - 9/23/2006 6:23:47 AM She said I’ll give you an intentional heartache
That’ll hurt a lot worse than the one that you left in me
And tell your little tramp to step back so your new ex-wife can get started
And you won’t have to look twice to see
~!more Dwight Yoakam 5820. Ulgine Barrows - 9/23/2006 7:46:09 AM A nose so pretty
but not a perfect sight
and a good morning's a little to the right
Two drops of happy, one pinch of pain
I'll call her
Little Miss Sunshine (Little Miss Rain)
A mouth full of honey
so the bees won't sting
her hair is golden
as an angel's ring
Two drops of happy, one pinch of pain
I'll call her
Little Miss Sunshine (Little Miss Rain)
A Little Miss Sunshine (Little Miss Rain)
~Lee Hazlewood 5821. NuPlanetOne - 9/24/2006 5:09:25 PM x-box warrior
How can he fight an enemy?
He has not suffered
Sure, he has vanquished virtual
Buffered pixels, rendered
Approximate visages of foes
And he goes about it
With animus as if these games
Were real. As if he could feel
Their pain. And he blames
A religion, the reign of terror
That he watches on tv
Cookies and milk in hand
And is ready to stand up
And take a pledge. This boy
Who ran away behind a hedge
Twenty yards from home
To go fight a boy who watched
As Mujahideen decapitated
His father, every day had seen
Atrocity and hunger
This boy, my boy, his mom
Pulling on her courage
Pleading, demanding he stay
That boy, remanding to Allah
His mom, pulling on a belt
Of bombs, commanding he fight on
How can he fight such an enemy
Without cheat codes, or cheerios
Without a pause control
With out weapon modes
Or a troll to re-up his life force
Of course, he will pray
Bless mommy and daddy and sis
And all we can do is kiss
Him goodbye.
5822. Seamus - 9/24/2006 10:18:29 PM Stunning, Nu. That is absolutely stunning.
Evocative and haunting--the juxtapositioning is so true, so sharp, it actually becomes painful to see it.
Gentlefolk of Mote Poetry, I say you NuPlanetOne.
5823. NuPlanetOne - 9/26/2006 12:35:40 AM Seamus
Thank you my friend. It is nice to hit the chord you intended to pluck. Makes all this scribbling worthwhile.
5824. Ulgine Barrows - 9/27/2006 6:48:14 AM O lordy, NuPlanetOne.
I laughed out loud at that one. I got two lumps sitting downstairs playing that x box stuff.
And I'm the lump upstairs.
Well done! 5825. NuPlanetOne - 10/7/2006 10:19:11 PM Be careful what you fish for
Each choice is a parallel universe
You choose, and the other options
Just run alongside
Everything waiting, watching
In frenzied stasis, until
You decide.
Second guessing, wishing
Are on the new path
You’ve chosen.
The favored outcome
Along side, in tandem
Moving, but frozen.
It could melt
And meld, if your choice
Matched your wishes.
Or could just swim
Forever alongside
Like dead floating fishes.
5826. Ulgine Barrows - 10/10/2006 8:19:36 AM 5825. NuPlanetOne
yeah, I know, I've chosen the dead fishes.
Until my son hits his stride.
I've heard the excuses of hitting your own stride and my husband is helping my son and I can't leave just now. I'm striding low.
Quite possibly a mistake. There are finances figuring into the mix. 5827. wonkers2 - 10/20/2006 1:19:15 AM EPITAPH
Malcolm Lowry
Late of the Bowery
His prose was flowery
And often glowery
He lived, nightly, and drank, daily,
And died playing the ukulele.
Selected Poems of Malcolm Lowry
1962 City Lights Books
Malcolm Lowry's most notable endeavor was the autobiographical novel "Under the Volcano," perhaps the greatest novel by and about an alcoholic. It was also a great movie starring Albert Finney, John Huston, Jacqueline Bisset.
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