Some WalkaboutsVerse, E.G.
walkaboutsverse
North, on the warm island of Oahu
There’s a really good place to see:
The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
A centre linked by Christianity;
It’s run by a broad-minded Christian group,
Championing cultures while they preach.
I talked to a few of the kind members,
And here’s an abstract of their speech:
The employees are all uni. students,
Labouring for their study and board;
They come from many Pacific islands,
And are all believers in their Lord;
They are studying for varied degrees,
And working at a number of jobs;
Some work as cultural entertainers,
While others serve the tourist mobs.
I walked around for more than half a day,
Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
By day, the different island nations
Do shows at their own cultural site;
There’s good Tahitian cooking to be tried,
Tamure dancing and hula, too.
Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
Drums and song, to name you but a few.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
Dale Houstman
> Poem 32 of 230: THE POLYNESIAN CULTURAL CENTRE
>
> North, on the warm island of Oahu
> The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
> A centre linked by Christianity;
> Championing cultures while they preach.
> I talked to a few of the kind members,
>
> The employees are all uni. students,
> Labouring for their study and board;
> They come from many Pacific islands,
> And are all believers in their Lord;
> They are studying for varied degrees,
> And working at a number of jobs;
> Some work as cultural entertainers,
> While others serve the tourist mobs.
>
> I walked around for more than half a day,
> Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
> By day, the different island nations
> Do shows at their own cultural site;
> Tamure dancing and hula, too.
> Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
> Drums and song, to name you but a few.
>
> From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
> Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
> (C) David Franks 2003
Just great - a promotional Christian pamphlet ineptly disguised as a
poem. Maybe George can count the syllables and pronounce it a masterpiece.
Considering that Christianity - besides inspiring such marvelous works
as the Crusades and Torquemada - supposedly inspired the likes of the
Psalms, it is disheartening to see that its artistic standards have
fallen into such disrepair.
And since "fire-walking" is a "pagan" event, don't be surprised if that
Christian group is actually another arm of Satan. Why don't those good
Christians do what their predecessors did so well and vociferously, and
slaughter or enslave these dancing heathens? Or just leave them with a
fatal disease. All in the name of Jesus of course...
dmh
Joe Da Powet
news:l-qdnd3wQv_oGZPX...@skypoint.com...
or, they can just throw them in the oven, eh hoseman.
sieg heil!
walkaboutsverse
cultures were being appreciated there.)
Poem 95 of 230 A GOOD LIFE
To fauna,
Home-flora.
Sheep for wool -
Fed till full.
Chooks for eggs -
Free-range legs.
Milk from cows -
Should well house:
Better grade
Can be made.
Fish for game -
Cut the pain.
Dogs for pets -
No regrets.
And question
Castration.
This does say
Buddha's way,
And Blake's way:
A good life -
For all life.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 16, 2:38 pm, "Joe Da Powet" <gime...@cox.net> wrote:
> "Dale Houstman" <d...@skypoint.com> wrote in message
>
> news:l-qdnd3wQv_oGZPX...@skypoint.com...
>
>
>
>
>
> > walkaboutsverse wrote:
> >> Poem 32 of 230: THE POLYNESIAN CULTURAL CENTRE
>
> >> North, on the warm island of Oahu
> >> There’s a really good place to see:
> >> The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
> >> A centre linked by Christianity;
> >> It’s run by a broad-minded Christian group,
> >> Championing cultures while they preach.
> >> I talked to a few of the kind members,
> >> And here’s an abstract of their speech:
>
> >> The employees are all uni. students,
> >> Labouring for their study and board;
> >> They come from many Pacific islands,
> >> And are all believers in their Lord;
> >> They are studying for varied degrees,
> >> And working at a number of jobs;
> >> Some work as cultural entertainers,
> >> While others serve the tourist mobs.
>
> >> I walked around for more than half a day,
> >> Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
> >> By day, the different island nations
> >> Do shows at their own cultural site;
> >> There’s good Tahitian cooking to be tried,
> >> Tamure dancing and hula, too.
> >> Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
> >> Drums and song, to name you but a few.
>
> >> Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> >> Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> >> (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > Just great - a promotional Christian pamphlet ineptly disguised as a poem.
> > Maybe George can count the syllables and pronounce it a masterpiece.
>
> > Considering that Christianity - besides inspiring such marvelous works as
> > the Crusades and Torquemada - supposedly inspired the likes of the Psalms,
> > it is disheartening to see that its artistic standards have fallen into
> > such disrepair.
>
> > And since "fire-walking" is a "pagan" event, don't be surprised if that
> > Christian group is actually another arm of Satan. Why don't those good
> > Christians do what their predecessors did so well and vociferously, and
> > slaughter or enslave these dancing heathens? Or just leave them with a
> > fatal disease. All in the name of Jesus of course...
>
> > dmh
>
> or, they can just throw them in the oven, eh hoseman.
>
> sieg heil!- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
Dale Houstman
> (To Dale and Joe, what I saw was not ideal, but at least indigenous
> cultures were being appreciated there.)
>
I don't really care what you saw, whether it was ideal, or if you
hallucinated it in the back of a ice cream truck - all that concerned me
was the extent to which you translated your experience into a poem. By
that standard, your bland pamphleteering failed miserably.
And - really - both you and Joe should grow a sarcasm/irony detector...
dmh
Will Dockery
> walkaboutsverse wrote:
> > Poem 32 of 230: THE POLYNESIAN CULTURAL CENTRE
>
> > North, on the warm island of Oahu
> > The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
> > A centre linked by Christianity;
> > Championing cultures while they preach.
> > I talked to a few of the kind members,
>
> > The employees are all uni. students,
> > Labouring for their study and board;
> > They come from many Pacific islands,
> > And are all believers in their Lord;
> > They are studying for varied degrees,
> > And working at a number of jobs;
> > Some work as cultural entertainers,
> > While others serve the tourist mobs.
>
> > I walked around for more than half a day,
> > Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
> > By day, the different island nations
> > Do shows at their own cultural site;
> > Tamure dancing and hula, too.
> > Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
> > Drums and song, to name you but a few.
>
> > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> Just great - a promotional Christian pamphlet
That you want to borrow and sign your name to as your own poem? No
surprise.
--
"She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU
walkaboutsverse
http://myspace.com/walkaboutsverse or http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/davidfrankswalkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
(TUNE:
D F# F# F#
G F# E E
D E E E
F# E D D)
I like Acers
But rent a flat,
So mimic one
In a small pot:
As for starters,
I made a plat
Of ivy run
Out from one spot;
To this basis,
All round the mat,
In a trunk-bun,
Dirt - soaked a lot;
Without traces
(Not got down pat),
A moss-lawn spun
And short-ferns shot;
And, like Acers,
Branches have sat -
Wirework done -
Toward the pot;
Trimmed with scissors,
This foliage-hat
Thrives in the sun
Of my sill-plot.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 17, 5:57 pm, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Some like at least some of my work, Will - check, e.g., Comments athttp://myspace.com/walkaboutsverseorhttp://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/davidfrankswalkaboutsverse
> > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU- Hide quoted text -
msifg
> Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> (C) David Franks 2003
>
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
so, i went to your site's and didn't notice any actual music.
do you play any instruments? or, are you just a lyricist?
(i notice you wrote out the chord structure, but without hearing the
beat
or the melody, it's hard to know what your intentions are.)
Will Dockery
>
> Some like at least some of my work, Will - check, e.g., Comments athttp://myspace.com/walkaboutsverseorhttp://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/davidfrankswalkaboutsverse
Well, Dale's very likely taking your poem, rearranging the words and
"generating" his own poem from it as we speak... if so, don't worry,
since he'll inform you that his method is perfectly legal, and he so
wants to have a new poem with his name on it.
Without having to bother with the troublesome work of having to come
up with original ideas of his own, of course.
> > That you want to borrow and sign your name to as your own poem, Dale? No
> > surprise.
--
New song "She Sleeps Tight", by Will Dockery with Brian Mallard &
Sandy Madaris at
http://www.myspace.com/shadowvilleallstars
walkaboutsverse
Will. And, to msifg, I have explained on my sites that, with my simple
letter-notation system, folks would have to hear me live or recorded
to get the rhythm; and, as well as singing in the E. trad.
unaccompanied manner, I have used English flute/tenor recorder and
keys on some of my myspace playlist - please use link below.)
Poem 24 of 230: THROUGH SOUTH-EAST ASIA
A highlight of South-East Asia -
As with other tropical lands -
Is the abundance of fresh fruits:
At cutting which some have deft hands.
And, from these fruits, I’d often choose -
To cool down from tropical heat -
A freshly prepared coconut:
Chopped to drink; lining scooped to eat.
From
http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 19, 1:23 am, Will Dockery <will.dock...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On May 17, 12:57 pm, walkaboutsverse wrote:
>
>
>
> > Some like at least some of my work, Will - check, e.g., Comments athttp://myspace.com/walkaboutsverseorhttp://www.writeoutloud.net/poets...
Will Dockery
> (I'm no legal expert, but I do know there's no copyright on IDEAS, Will.
No, just the way they're presented.
And, to msifg, I have explained on my sites that, with my simple
> letter-notation system, folks would have to hear me live or recorded
> to get the rhythm; and, as well as singing in the E. trad.
> unaccompanied manner, I have used English flute/tenor recorder and
> keys on some of my myspace playlist - please use link below.)
>
> Poem 24 of 230: THROUGH SOUTH-EAST ASIA
>
> A highlight of South-East Asia -
> As with other tropical lands -
> Is the abundance of fresh fruits:
> At cutting which some have deft hands.
> And, from these fruits, I’d often choose -
> To cool down from tropical heat -
> A freshly prepared coconut:
> Chopped to drink; lining scooped to eat.
>
m.s.i.f.g.
news:05a50609-a032-447b...@21g2000vbk.googlegroups.com...
> > > > > The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
> > > > > A centre linked by Christianity;
> > > > > Championing cultures while they preach.
> > > > > I talked to a few of the kind members,
>
> > > > > The employees are all uni. students,
> > > > > Labouring for their study and board;
> > > > > They come from many Pacific islands,
> > > > > And are all believers in their Lord;
> > > > > They are studying for varied degrees,
> > > > > And working at a number of jobs;
> > > > > Some work as cultural entertainers,
> > > > > While others serve the tourist mobs.
>
> > > > > I walked around for more than half a day,
> > > > > Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
> > > > > By day, the different island nations
> > > > > Do shows at their own cultural site;
> > > > > Tamure dancing and hula, too.
> > > > > Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
> > > > > Drums and song, to name you but a few.
>
> > > > > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > > > > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > > > > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > > > Just great - a promotional Christian pamphlet
>
> > > That you want to borrow and sign your name to as your own poem? No
> > > surprise.
>
> > > --
> > > "She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
> > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George
> > > Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
so, i went to your site's and didn't notice any actual music.
do you play any instruments? or, are you just a lyricist?
(i notice you wrote out the chord structure, but without hearing the
beat
or the melody, it's hard to know what your intentions are.)
*that's an interesting question, msifg.
and thanks for taking an interest.
i do or don't play an instrument, it's up to you.
i do or don't sing melodies, that's up to you too.
you see, this is your world even when i'm in it.
so, imagine what you would do if you were me, and you've
got it. it's as muggy as an English rain, but it
does the trick.
walkaboutsverse
is, I think, what folk music is manly about: telling/playing for
dancing via the repitition of a relatively simple TUNE.)
Having said that, here's my effort regarding another genre...
Poem 130 of 230: ENTRÉE/AT BOLTON’S ALBERT HALL: OPERA SONG - WINTER
2000/1
(TUNE:
G A B C' B
C' D' C' B
B C' B D' D'
G E D C
C' E' F' E' E'
E' E' D' C'
C' E' F' G' G'
G E D C)
From novel, and play,
To opera,
La Traviata
Was my entrée
To a media
I find is a
Fine way to relay
Human drama.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On 19 May, 12:36, "m.s.i.f.g." <gime...@cox.net> wrote:
> "msifg" <qoph...@gmail.com> wrote in message
> > > > > > There’s a really good place to see:
> > > > > > The Polynesian Cultural Centre -
> > > > > > A centre linked by Christianity;
> > > > > > It’s run by a broad-minded Christian group,
> > > > > > Championing cultures while they preach.
> > > > > > I talked to a few of the kind members,
> > > > > > And here’s an abstract of their speech:
>
> > > > > > The employees are all uni. students,
> > > > > > Labouring for their study and board;
> > > > > > They come from many Pacific islands,
> > > > > > And are all believers in their Lord;
> > > > > > They are studying for varied degrees,
> > > > > > And working at a number of jobs;
> > > > > > Some work as cultural entertainers,
> > > > > > While others serve the tourist mobs.
>
> > > > > > I walked around for more than half a day,
> > > > > > Then went to a skilled stage-show at night.
> > > > > > By day, the different island nations
> > > > > > Do shows at their own cultural site;
> > > > > > There’s good Tahitian cooking to be tried,
> > > > > > Tamure dancing and hula, too.
> > > > > > Plus, at night, dramatic fire-walking,
> > > > > > Drums and song, to name you but a few.
>
> > > > > > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > > > > > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > > > > > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > > > > Just great - a promotional Christian pamphlet
>
> > > > That you want to borrow and sign your name to as your own poem? No
> > > > surprise.
>
> > > > --
> > > > "She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
> > > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George
> > > > Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hidequoted text -
>
> > > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -
>
> so, i went to your site's and didn't notice any actual music.
>
> do you play any instruments? or, are you just a lyricist?
>
> (i notice you wrote out the chord structure, but without hearing the
> beat
> or the melody, it's hard to know what your intentions are.)
>
> *that's an interesting question, msifg.
>
> and thanks for taking an interest.
>
> i do or don't play an instrument, it's up to you.
>
> i do or don't sing melodies, that's up to you too.
>
> you see, this is your world even when i'm in it.
>
> so, imagine what you would do if you were me, and you've
> got it. it's as muggy as an English rain, but it
> does the trick.- Hide quoted text -
m.s.i.f.g.
news:1a5416a2-2e99-4eba...@s31g2000vbp.googlegroups.com...
(No "chord structure", msifg, I've just worked out the tunes - which
is, I think, what folk music is manly about: telling/playing for
dancing via the repitition of a relatively simple TUNE.)
Having said that, here's my effort regarding another genre...
Poem 130 of 230: ENTR�E/AT BOLTON�S ALBERT HALL: OPERA SONG - WINTER
2000/1
(TUNE:
G A B C' B
C' D' C' B
B C' B D' D'
G E D C
C' E' F' E' E'
E' E' D' C'
C' E' F' G' G'
G E D C)
From novel, and play,
To opera,
La Traviata
Was my entr�e
To a media
I find is a
Fine way to relay
Human drama.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
*thanks for sharing.
i need to "crawl" through your site's again and
search harder for the music you say you've recorded.
i must say, you do have a prodigious amount of work.
if it comes to it, i'll hum the melodies myself
whith your lyrics. maybe that would be an
interesting "experiment."
walkaboutsverse
I listened and looked and read, then wrote,
Within the remarks book, this brief note:
“Aborigines - first there/worst off”...
And received a Rule Britannia cough.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 20, 12:56 pm, "m.s.i.f.g." <gime...@cox.net> wrote:
> "walkaboutsverse" <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
>
> news:1a5416a2-2e99-4eba...@s31g2000vbp.googlegroups.com...
> (No "chord structure", msifg, I've just worked out the tunes - which
> is, I think, what folk music is manly about: telling/playing for
> dancing via the repitition of a relatively simple TUNE.)
>
> Having said that, here's my effort regarding another genre...
>
> Poem 130 of 230: ENTRÉE/AT BOLTON’S ALBERT HALL: OPERA SONG - WINTER
> 2000/1
>
> (TUNE:
>
> G A B C' B
> C' D' C' B
> B C' B D' D'
> G E D C
> C' E' F' E' E'
> E' E' D' C'
> C' E' F' G' G'
> G E D C)
>
> From novel, and play,
> To opera,
> La Traviata
> Was my entrée
walkaboutsverse
> Poem 161 of 230: AT THE CAPTAIN COOK BIRTHPLACE MUSEUM - SUMMER 2001
>
> I listened and looked and read, then wrote,
> Within the remarks book, this brief note:
> “Aborigines - first there/worst off”...
> And received a Rule Britannia cough.
>
walkaboutsverse
(TUNE:
E F# F# E D E F# F#
F# G G A B A G G
D G A A B B A A
F# G A B B A A-G G
D D F# F# F#-G F# E E
E E E E F# E D D)
Where traditions are not so rare;
Sea, country and works scent the air;
A multitude of monuments,
Planted tubs and patterned pavements.
The longish pedestrian malls;
The remnants of defensive walls;
"Broken-roofed buildings" are a gauge
Of the respect for heritage.
Wheat, rape and pines in the fields;
Estuaries guarded by shields;
Long sandy beaches and wide scenes;
Romantic-ruin go-betweens.
Rivers in parts licked by trees,
Or fringed by boat clubs, wharfs, gantries,
And crossed by practical delights -
Varied spans, forming pleasing sights.
Fine churches headed at Durham;
Football kits ad infinitum;
Kept castles - one for study;
Masonry behind masonry.
And, with moulding-works out that way,
It’s somewhere for a longer stay..?
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> > > interesting "experiment."- Hide quoted text -
Dale Houstman
JESUS, JUST HANGING AROUND
You are that rare traditional sea scent
sequestered in miasmas of bottomless tubs
where the pale pedestrian lungs are employed
to rhyme "gauge" with "heritage"
as if discreetly pining for the romance
of linguistic rapine. Ah Golden Age!
Are your parts licked by the freeze-dried rivers,
or practically formed and harmless like a boat?
Oh! Church-besotted footballer of verse,
studying corsets and mesons and votive cheese.
dmh
walkaboutsverse
Awaiting a train in Bombay,
I was shocked into dismay;
For a well-dressed man, built strongly,
Was walking, his hands set free,
Ahead of a bony porter -
Heavy case on head, no quarter.
Shortly later, I watched again
As out from the rich-man’s train
Came the scrawny struggling porter -
His thin back now much tauter;
For he writhed as he stretched his loins -
After a quick count of few coins.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
walkaboutsverse
“Hills meeting sea”
Proclaims to me
“Good scenery.”
And it’s views of North Wales,
Both sides of the train-rails,
Whereupon this thought hails.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> > dmh- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
One Premier world-eleven v.
Another such company,
Or wage-caps and say half each-club's squad
From the local-junior pod?
And, perhaps, heed the cricket-fan's call
To convert to county-football..?
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 24, 11:23 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 65 of 230: NORTH WALES
>
> “Hills meeting sea”
> Proclaims to me
> “Good scenery.”
>
> And it’s views of North Wales,
> Both sides of the train-rails,
> Whereupon this thought hails.
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
As barter
Tends to cause
Some anger,
Seeing price
Tends to cause
Moods more nice.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On 25 May, 10:28, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 98 of 230: REREGULATE
>
> One Premier world-eleven v.
> Another such company,
> Or wage-caps and say half each-club's squad
> From the local-junior pod?
> And, perhaps, heed the cricket-fan's call
> To convert to county-football..?
>
walkaboutsverse
Poem 215 of 230: MOODS MORE NICE
As haggling
Tends to cause
Some wrangling,
Seeing price
Tends to cause
Moods more nice.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 26, 10:10 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 215 of 230: MOODS MORE NICE
>
> As barter
> Tends to cause
> Some anger,
> Seeing price
> Tends to cause
> Moods more nice.
>
walkaboutsverse
Near glassy-classical new Law Courts,
From the snazzy Millennium Footbridge,
Reflecting fine bridges of other sorts -
A glassy Tyne’s snazzy sunset image.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On 26 May, 20:14, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> CORRECTION - this is what I meant...
>
> Poem 215 of 230: MOODS MORE NICE
>
> As haggling
> Tends to cause
> Some wrangling,
> Seeing price
> Tends to cause
> Moods more nice.
>
walkaboutsverse
After hearing the ways
Of the old silk-weaving trade,
While being served some tea,
Within the Mulberry Tree,
Memories came back to me
Of - during my infant days -
Feeding ‘worms till sheaths were made.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On 27 May, 15:32, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 179 of 230: A GLASSY TYNE - AUTUMN 2001
>
> Near glassy-classical new Law Courts,
> From the snazzy Millennium Footbridge,
> Reflecting fine bridges of other sorts -
> A glassy Tyne’s snazzy sunset image.
>
walkaboutsverse
Most of the leaves
Of poplar trees
Had fallen free
When to the sea,
By bus then train,
In stop/start rain,
I headed-down
From Radcliffe Town.
After Wigan,
The train began
To pass across
What to me was
A coastal plain
To see again -
With varied crops,
And grazing op’s.
From the station,
Reconstruction
Soon came to eye
As I walked, by
The gallery,
Toward the sea,
And thereby thought:
“Spacious Southport.”
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 28, 9:10 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem of 160 of 230: MACCLESFIELD - SUMMER 2001
>
> After hearing the ways
> Of the old silk-weaving trade,
> While being served some tea,
> Within the Mulberry Tree,
> Memories came back to me
> Of - during my infant days -
> Feeding ‘worms till sheaths were made.
>
walkaboutsverse
I’m thinking of Sting’s song “Russians,”
Which notes the ways wars can be fought;
He highlights nuclear weapons,
And there’s another crazy sort:
Landmines kill and maim innocents,
Long after their targets have fled;
To them should go layers’ repents,
And mine production should be dead.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
walkaboutsverse
After a wall-view
Of the neat city;
Off a square in squares,
From a bronze statue,
Falling on a pool,
Rippling out towards
Lilies, ferns and reeds:
Water - sounding cool.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On May 30, 8:51 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 85 of 230: LANDMINES
>
> I’m thinking of Sting’s song “Russians,”
> Which notes the ways wars can be fought;
> He highlights nuclear weapons,
> And there’s another crazy sort:
>
> Landmines kill and maim innocents,
> Long after their targets have fled;
> To them should go layers’ repents,
> And mine production should be dead.
>
walkaboutsverse
(TUNE:
D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F
D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F)
Lancashire:
Cut by rivers, met by sea;
Patched by farmland,
Mills and other industry.
Lancashire:
With your links-lands by the sea;
Rough left wild,
Greens and fairways clipped neatly.
Lancashire:
With your Pennine boundary;
Steeped in history,
Through your buildings, there to see.
Lancashire:
Where, through Graces, moorlands be;
Wooded parklands,
Flowered gardens - kept neatly.
Lancashire:
Red Rose County, God’s blessed thee.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On 31 May, 09:37, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 167 of 230: WITHIN CHESTER CATHEDRAL’S CLOISTERS - SUMMER 2001
>
> After a wall-view
> Of the neat city;
> Off a square in squares,
> From a bronze statue,
> Falling on a pool,
> Rippling out towards
> Lilies, ferns and reeds:
> Water - sounding cool.
>
walkaboutsverse
Arrived in London,
At Heathrow Airport,
With sixty kilos
Of luggage I'd brought.
Found a paper, Loot,
And called an agent;
Stored two heavy bags,
Then to him I went.
For one week of rent,
He'd ensure a bed
Within Bayswater -
A bed-sit, he said.
It was eighty pounds
Per week, nothing more,
With a lift arranged
To the building's door.
Knackered and sleepless,
I took the deal;
Checked-in quickly,
Had a rushed meal.
Collected my bags
(Tube there, shared-van back),
Then carried them up
To my top-floor shack.
A penthouse - no need,
It did me just fine;
A cook-top and fridge,
A table to dine.
Seated, I could watch
The clouds roll by -
Often from the west -
Or jets cut the sky.
There were large plane-trees,
A squirrel or two;
And pigeons dropped by -
Foregrounding the view.
Plus, at dawn, the sun
Shined in from the east -
Filling the small room
As on egg I’d feast.
And, contemplating,
It occurs to me -
If all lived that well,
How great it would be.
But a lot do sleep
Outdoors many nights -
On sheets of cardboard,
Without basic rights.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com./walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
walkaboutsverse
On the road from Inverness to Glasgow
(A very scenic road it is),
I hitched with a pair - Italiano;
The left-hand-drive Fiat was his.
I think they had taken turns at driving -
I’m not sure from where or how far;
But, when they picked me up from my hiking,
The lady was driving the car.
I recall how warm their greet did feel,
And what a thrilling trip it was;
For, as their hands fought over the wheel,
Our lives came near to loss:
I was sitting tight on the back-right side -
My ears off their argument;
But my eyes surely knew how close beside
The oncoming vehicles went!
We arrived without a scratch at Glasgow,
But it begs this point, I feel -
Why did our forebears decide to go
Either side for the new wheel?
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://bolgs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> ...
>
> read more »- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 20 of 230: CHINA AND INDIA
China and India:
Dense populations both;
But China is, by far,
Much more humane - my oath;
For through both I took trains,
And saw the gap in pains.
China and India:
Great cuisines they have both;
But China is, by far,
Much more humane - my oath;
For not once in packed China
Was I begged by a minor.
China and India:
Lasting cultures in both;
But china is, by far,
Much more humane - my oath;
For India does need
Left-policies - indeed!
(China and India:
Many creatures in both;
But, in this case, China
Is less kindly - my oath;
For, on pain, they fret less
In keeping their food fresh.)
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
walkaboutsverse
Awaiting a train in Bombay,
I was shocked into dismay;
For a well-dressed man, built strongly,
Was walking, his hands set free,
Ahead of a bony porter -
Heavy case on head, no quarter.
Shortly later, I watched again
As out from the rich-man's train
Came the scrawny struggling porter -
His thin back now much tauter;
For he writhed as he stretched his loins -
After a quick count of few coins.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 203
walkaboutsverse
Back when we became defenders
(We have plainly been attackers),
Defenders' blood, sweat and years
Were paid to keep a good home-way -
A way yet to be part stealth-blown,
As mass immigration gained-sway
And as we slipped as maintainers.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
walkaboutsverse
Some thirteen years from my first visit
(Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
This time, by train and a downhill walk),
I arrived at Windermere:
On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
And the more sporty ways to ride.
Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
And a bridge - starting the way back.
Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
Shaded what was a sunny day,
And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
Calming the soul a further way.
Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
The surrounds of England’s largest lake,
And movie train-window viewings.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 6, 10:12 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 212 of 230: REMEMBER THEM?
>
> Back when we became defenders
> (We have plainly been attackers),
> Defenders' blood, sweat and years
> Were paid to keep a good home-way -
> A way yet to be part stealth-blown,
> As mass immigration gained-sway
> And as we slipped as maintainers.
>
walkaboutsverse
No income-scale would be unjust -
It's a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
Regulations are a must.
For, in Millennium's status quo,
The pay-gaps for human work,
And what's gotten simply as a perk,
Are wrong - inhumanely so.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-srcoll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 7, 9:42 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 159 of 230: WINDERMERE - SUMMER 2001
>
> Some thirteen years from my first visit
> (Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
> This time, by train and a downhill walk),
> I arrived at Windermere:
>
> On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
> A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
> Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
> And the more sporty ways to ride.
>
> Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
> Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
> With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
> And a bridge - starting the way back.
>
> Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
> Shaded what was a sunny day,
> And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
> Calming the soul a further way.
>
> Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
> Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
> The surrounds of England’s largest lake,
> And movie train-window viewings.
>
> ...
>
> read more »- Hide quoted text -
Dale Houstman
> Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM
>
> No income-scale would be unjust -
> It's a matter of degree;
> And, to have less inequality,
> Regulations are a must.
>
> For, in Millennium's status quo,
> The pay-gaps for human work,
> And what's gotten simply as a perk,
> Are wrong - inhumanely so.
>
This stuff is unusually consistent in its wretchedness: from flat
transcriptions of Christian resort pamphlets into harping praise loads,
all the way to tiny didactic humbugs like this one, which offer us below
average "thoughts" trussed into the strait jacket you appear to think
turns gruel into poetry. It doesn't.
Anyone can buy a book of poetic forms and use them as templates to
squeeze denatured ideas into, hoping they will set into something worth
reading. This isn't really very difficult to do, and you don't bring
anything of value to the process.
And the preaching is sounding more and more like nagging...
dmh
walkaboutsverse
Dale...hope you prefer this one..?
Poem 64 of 230: LIVERPOOL
Caught a train, along a long-used line,
From Manchester to Liverpool.
On that day the weather was fine:
Sunny - just a little bit cool.
There, I purchased a Walkabout Guide,
Marked some sights, and headed outside.
As usual when first at such a place,
I walked to the main art-gallery,
The central mall, and the garden space;
Then headed down to the wide Mersey.
There, from ferry, I viewed the skyline -
A good sturdy cityscape, for mine.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
Will Dockery
> walkaboutsverse wrote:
>
> Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM
>
> > No income-scale would be unjust -
> > It's a matter of degree;
> > And, to have less inequality,
> > Regulations are a must.
>
> > For, in Millennium's status quo,
> > The pay-gaps for human work,
> > And what's gotten simply as a perk,
> > Are wrong - inhumanely so.
>
Yes, puts me in mind of Dennis M. Hammes' work in that way...
Walkabout nails his form pretty well, to this untrained eye.
--
"She Sleeps Tight", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU
walkaboutsverse
There’s a place called Sovereign Hill,
Nigh the city of Ballarat,
With dated representations -
And they’re authentic ones at that.
You can pan for gold at the creek,
Write some lines with inkwell and quill,
See bread baked the colonial way
Or a blacksmith at his anvil.
There’s a, pre-plastics, bowling lane -
With everything made in wood;
A painted-photo studio,
And a saloon built as they stood.
Ride in a draft-horse drawn carriage,
See the front gardens of the day,
Read-up on mining history,
Or watch costumed-revellers play.
And, just beside the “old” village,
Should you decide to see some more,
There’s homely accommodation;
But heed - Kooris came long before.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU- Hide quoted text -
Will Dockery
On a second reading I see this is some really good work. Thanks for
posting.
Dale Houstman
>
> On a second reading I see this is some really good work. Thanks for
> posting.
It isn't "really good work" - and I've explained why it isn't at length
- but even if it were, your words (such as they are) would be the
laziest and most worthless critique possible, barring "uh good." Can you
delineate precisely why you think it is "really good work" (just to
educate the rest of us and maybe actually lend aid to the writer, rather
than just plop out another brown bookmark for your existence), and also
convince me that you actually worked up the energy to read anything
twice? your comment suggests to me that - in truth - you haven't really
even read it once.
dmh
Will Dockery
> Will Dockery wrote:
>
> > On a second reading I see this is some really good work. Thanks for
> > posting.
>
> It isn't "really good work" -
Sure, it is. Any number of these would make great folk ballad type
works, maybe in the style of Oscar Brand or Tom Paxton, or even
myself, if I had the time.
Since you've snipped the man's entire poem for some reason (let's
guess why?) we can get back to this later, I suppose.
walkaboutsverse
songs, when he's appeared on the BBC.
Poem/Song/Chant 111 of 230: THE MERSEY AT DIDSBURY - SPRING 2000
(TUNE:
Eb F G Ab G
D F G Ab G
D F G Ab G
D G Ab Bb Ab
D G Ab Bb Ab
D F G Ab G)
Took bus one-four-three,
From Piccadilly,
Along Oxford Road;
Passed the old uni’s,
Those shops with saris,
And my first abode.
At Didsbury Village,
The Old Parsonage
Looked neat, and gave sound,
As I walked the way,
At about midday,
To a Mersey mound.
From atop this bank,
No longer a blank
Was the strong river,
Nor the wide fairways -
Where I’d filled two days,
Twelve years earlier.
I then headed back,
On Stenner Woods’ track
(Hearing more birdsong,
And seeing mossed stumps
Plus well-layered clumps),
To a human throng.
This throng was viewing -
Justly pursuing -
The smart Rock Gardens,
Sloped on Fletcher Moss,
Which I, too, did cross,
Before homeward wends.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
Will Dockery
> (Hadn't heard of Oscar Brand, but I've enjoyed some of Tom Paxton's
> songs, when he's appeared on the BBC.
Well, one of the "rules" of the newsgroups is that we shouldn't just
comment "this reminds me of...", but it does, in a good way. Damned
good poetry, man.
walkaboutsverse
But for the ghostly lighthouse on Saint Mary’s,
The, matching, moonlit-wash of broken waves,
The distant bulbs of liners sailing the seas,
The Down Under’s lights, from human-made caves,
And the inland blooms of Friday’s zeal,
Their night’s beach fishing was all by feel.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
msifg
> Poem 180 of 230: WHITLEY BAY FISHERMEN - AUTUMN 2001
>
> But for the ghostly lighthouse on Saint Mary’s,
> The, matching, moonlit-wash of broken waves,
> The distant bulbs of liners sailing the seas,
> The Down Under’s lights, from human-made caves,
> And the inland blooms of Friday’s zeal,
> Their night’s beach fishing was all by feel.
>
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
you're saying they had limited fishing light
and you're using the opportunity to
give a visual night tour guide of Saint Mary's.
the syllable count reaching eleven on
line three not only throws the beat off,
the point was already made more adequately
in the ten count in line two, especially since
that's where the waves were broken.
"the distant bulbs of liners sailing THE seas,"
feels very uncomfortable, and it shouldn't.
that's where the rhythm should return.
the next line is where the syllable count
might go back to eleven, or even nine:
"the downunder's lights, from human-made caves,"
unless those lights offer more night vision than
the liners, in which case it would work.
the next two lines are nine's, which tells me
you're very concerned about the count and
rhythm. i can only take your word for it, since
i've not been to Saint Mary's during the day
or night. thanks for sharing and keeping
it poetry.
ggamble
On 12-Jun-2009, msifg <qop...@gmail.com> wrote:
> the syllable count reaching eleven on
> line three not only throws the beat off,
> the point was already made more adequately
> in the ten count in line two, especially since
> that's where the waves were broken.
Did your friend george teach you how to count syllables, or did you come up
with it all by yourself?
walkaboutsverse
11/10/11/10/11/10 (counting "feel", e.g., as 2, where some would say
it's 1), and ababcc with the rhyme.
Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON’S CHOICE
During a day trip to Cambridge,
My uncle showed the confined space
That left punters no choice to face -
Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 12, 2:47 pm, "ggamble" <g...@youbet.net> wrote:
walkaboutsverse
If a couple, with plans to wed,
Asked me, off the top of my head,
For somewhere I thought well in-tune
As a place for a honeymoon,
It would have - flashing back - to be
Beautifully-honed Italy.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> > with it all by yourself?- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
On the day before the solstice,
I first sighted Eastbourne:
A beautiful elegant place -
English culture untorn.
Two long days allowed two long lanes
To be walked before dark -
One after travel on four trains,
One post-Devonshire Park.
The first was between sea and heath,
And gardens signed by post,
Then up the Downs to view, beneath,
The brutal handsome coast.
The next, contrasting that before,
Showed all kinds of vessels -
Parked up along the pebbly shore
And in marina cells.
(But, as for the women's tennis,
It soon became a qualm -
As I was put-off by what is
A great strain on their arm.)
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 14, 10:14 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 16 of 230: A BEAUTIFUL STAGE
>
> If a couple, with plans to wed,
> Asked me, off the top of my head,
> For somewhere I thought well in-tune
> As a place for a honeymoon,
> It would have - flashing back - to be
> Beautifully-honed Italy.
>
> Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> (C) David Franks 2003
>
> On Jun 13, 10:59 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
> > To ggamble and msifg: I wrote that quite a while ago, but I've gone
> > 11/10/11/10/11/10 (counting "feel", e.g., as 2, where some would say
> > it's 1), and ababcc with the rhyme.
>
> > Poem 54 of 230: HOBSON’S CHOICE
>
> > During a day trip to Cambridge,
> > My uncle showed the confined space
> > That left punters no choice to face -
> > Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.
>
> > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > On Jun 12, 2:47 pm, "ggamble" <g...@youbet.net> wrote:
>
> > > On 12-Jun-2009, msifg <qoph...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > > the syllable count reaching eleven on
> > > > line three not only throws the beat off,
> > > > the point was already made more adequately
> > > > in the ten count in line two, especially since
> > > > that's where the waves were broken.
>
> > > Did your friend george teach you how to count syllables, or did you come up
> > > with it all by yourself?- Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
=z=
dammit man, do you ever shut the fuck up?...walkabout my ass...wheelbarrow
with sludge a dripping...shut up, shut the fuck up. shut up...
Will Dockery
> Poem 180 of 230: WHITLEY BAY FISHERMEN - AUTUMN 2001
>
> But for the ghostly lighthouse on Saint Mary’s,
> The, matching, moonlit-wash of broken waves,
> The distant bulbs of liners sailing the seas,
> The Down Under’s lights, from human-made caves,
> And the inland blooms of Friday’s zeal,
> Their night’s beach fishing was all by feel.
>
> Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> (C) David Franks 2003
Really fine work here, David... I hope to get back here soon for a
more detailed commentary.
--
"Rick Howe, singer, songwriter, comix artist, poet... friend. May he
find peace in the Great Unknown." -Will Dockery
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p83vPKQuKzU
> > > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Poem 113 of 230: FOLLOWING THE SUN - SPRING 2000
Having moved, by buses, up the hill from Salford to Bury
(To be within walk of new work, again),
These stimuli surround between my abode and the factory
As I follow the sun - its wax, its wane:
Walking toward work and the rising sun, a morning chorus
Rides the crisp breezy air of hill-farmland,
While gravel, of road and path, beneath my plonked feet crunches,
And P.V.C. flaps loose of its hay-stand.
Bumble bees, tree sparrows and robins bob along the hedgerows,
Squirrels and hares hop ahead on my route;
And on a weather-wrapped reservoir - glassy, or dulled by blows -
Glide mute- and whooper-swans, ducks, geese and coot;
Horses, goats, sheep and cattle laze and graze on fields of green -
Fields they, in turn, feed, helping make hay;
And, above, swifts and herons sometimes grace the aerial scene -
A scene framed by a moorland chain of grey.
Slugs - some rusty, others pitch-black - slither on a clayey path,
That slopes sharply beside the reservoir;
And a whitegood on green-grass - a horse trough, once a human bath -
Amuses me as I view from afar;
As does Peel Monument, atop a distant Holecombe mount -
By which an uncle and I once took lunch;
Disturbed nettles - brushed in such distraction - make their bulwarks
count,
And a shed-side arbour demands a hunch.
One time, three sheep-dogs determined me lost, and rounded me up;
Oftentimes, the Metro. tram rattles by;
And, sometimes, a horse will urge me make handy a grassy cup,
Or nudge for a scratch down its back and thigh;
On cooler mornings, the dew on grasses soaks my joggers through,
But beautifies clumps of whimsy grass-heads;
And, already proceeding on his routine of chores to do,
A farmer strong-hoses out the cowsheds.
Caravan-people leave their grouping to walk the well-worn track,
And milk- and mail-vans squeeze tightly by;
Antique farm-machines rust away in a grassed ramshackle-stack,
And pigeons startle from their grassy
lie;
In sun, fishing-people and bathers dot the reservoir’s shore,
And, in shade, ferns the sides of path and stream;
Near gates, manure fills the air and makes stepping a chore,
But elsewhere the views are a poet’s dream.
Magpies, near horses, bop around - perhaps for aroused worms;
Laburnums sprung yellow, and hawthorns white,
Pleasingly, in nature, border the fields of farming-firms,
And help enclose this Radcliffe rural site;
Plus, as I meander home from a day’s factory toil,
The sun, when it sets in a clear sky,
Forms a large amber ball, behind a converted cotton-mill -
Signalling another day almost by.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 16, 12:52 am, Will Dockery <will.dock...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On Jun 12, 4:41 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
> > Poem 180 of 230: WHITLEY BAY FISHERMEN - AUTUMN 2001
>
> > But for the ghostly lighthouse on Saint Mary’s,
> > The, matching, moonlit-wash of broken waves,
> > The distant bulbs of liners sailing the seas,
> > The Down Under’s lights, from human-made caves,
> > And the inland blooms of Friday’s zeal,
> > Their night’s beach fishing was all by feel.
>
> > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> Really fine work here, David... I hope to get back here soon for a
> more detailed commentary.
>
> --
> "Rick Howe, singer, songwriter, comix artist, poet... friend. May he
> find peace in the Great Unknown." -Will Dockeryhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p83vPKQuKzU
> > > > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hidequoted text -
walkaboutsverse
that, via gambling on a lottery, one individual now has 100s of times
more wealth than his neighbours - REVOLTING!)
Poem 138 of 230: AN OPIUM
National Lottery passes -
Slight chances to be richer,
With lots more than thy neighbour,
Gained without any labour -
Keep the system in favour:
An opium of the masses.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> > > > > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hidequotedtext -
Will Dockery
>
> > > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> > - Show quoted text -
>
> you're saying they had limited fishing light
> and you're using the opportunity to
> give a visual night tour guide of Saint Mary's.
> the syllable count reaching eleven on
> line three not only throws the beat off,
> the point was already made more adequately
> in the ten count in line two, especially since
> that's where the waves were broken.
> "the distant bulbs of liners sailing THE seas,"
> feels very uncomfortable, and it shouldn't.
> that's where the rhythm should return.
> the next line is where the syllable count
> might go back to eleven, or even nine:
> "the downunder's lights, from human-made caves,"
> unless those lights offer more night vision than
> the liners, in which case it would work.
> the next two lines are nine's, which tells me
> you're very concerned about the count and
> rhythm. i can only take your word for it, since
> i've not been to Saint Mary's during the day
> or night. thanks for sharing and keeping
> it poetry.
All in all, WAV puts out some good work, and plenty of it, eh?
--
Twilight Girl, written by Will Dockery & Henry Conley, from the CD
Shadowville Speedway. © 2009
Vocals: Will Dockery, Guitar: Henry Conley, Bass: Doug Conley, Flute:
Gene Woolfolk, Jr. Drums: John Phillips.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYETTK16jQI
walkaboutsverse
No income-scale would be unjust -
It’s a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
Regulations are a must.
For, in Millennium’s status quo,
The pay-gaps for human work,
And what’s gotten simply as a perk,
Are wrong - inhumanely so.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> > > > > > Brian Mallard. Paintings by George Sulzbach.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU-Hidequotedtext -
> Gene Woolfolk, Jr. Drums: John Phillips.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYETTK16jQI- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
Some thirteen years from my first visit
(Then, dropped from hitching, just near;
This time, by train and a downhill walk),
I arrived at Windermere:
On the ferry Miss Cumbria Three,
A chill-out trip to Ambleside -
Viewing the trees, the farms, the fells,
And the more sporty ways to ride.
Once there, an uphill walk through the shops
Led to a leaf, rock and root track,
With a stalactite-like mossy falls,
And a bridge - starting the way back.
Track-side, gripping the ghyll, ancient woods
Shaded what was a sunny day,
And the falling stream gave sound strongly -
Calming the soul a further way.
Then home - again charmed by the thin-stone
Minimum-mortar kept buildings,
The surrounds of England’s largest lake,
And movie train-window viewings.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 18, 9:25 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM
>
> No income-scale would be unjust -
> It’s a matter of degree;
> And, to have less inequality,
> Regulations are a must.
>
> For, in Millennium’s status quo,
> The pay-gaps for human work,
> And what’s gotten simply as a perk,
> Are wrong - inhumanely so.
>
> > Gene Woolfolk, Jr. Drums: John Phillips.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYETTK16jQI-Hide quoted text -
Will Dockery
>msifg wrote:
>
> > the syllable count reaching eleven on
> > line three not only throws the beat off,
> > the point was already made more adequately
> > in the ten count in line two, especially since
> > that's where the waves were broken.
>
> Did your friend george teach you
Maybe you can teach him about "Fred the Dog"... heh.
--
"Ashes to Justice", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
Brian Mallard. Words and music by Dockery & Mallard.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzwD5-UI0p4
walkaboutsverse
Sports, large warehouses and merchants are the gist -
A centre for distribution and trade,
Plus making goods and services for this list;
Well placed, in these, it seems, the future’s laid.
Oh - I should note the entertainment trade,
And that, from fruit and grain, fine foods are made.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
msifg
>
> - Show quoted text -
now i see what's going on...the music
page is reached through the lyrics page.
you write christian music.
it's all good...sorry for the mess up.
i really enjoy your music...it's unpretentious.
it reaches the bloody masses much
better when it's not trying to be something
it's not...it is what it is, and that's beautiful
in itself.
as far as the content of the lyrics, your
rhythm is fine...i'm sure the content
makes up for the lack of perfect pitch
you possess. i'll have to continue
coming to your page and delving deeper
into your work, if for nothing else, inspiration.
i get inspired by people who are taking
the time to do things constructive...believe
it, or not, i'm even inspired by houstman.
his paintings and accompanying poems
show a great deal of care and constructive
thinking. (although, the man himself is
quite annoying, his art suffers not.)
thanks for sharing, and "cheers" as you
English "chaps" like to say.
(happy fathers day, as well...and that
goes for any other fathers in this group)
matt
msifg
> On Jun 21, 2:00 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > Poem 57 of 230: MANCHESTER - A GIST
>
> > Sports, large warehouses and merchants are the gist -
> > A centre for distribution and trade,
> > Plus making goods and services for this list;
> > Well placed, in these, it seems, the future’s laid.
>
> > Oh - I should note the entertainment trade,
> > And that, from fruit and grain, fine foods are made.
>
> > Fromhttp://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com(e-scroll)
> > Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse(e-book)
> > (C) David Franks 2003
>
> > On Jun 19, 9:01 pm, Will Dockery <will.dock...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > "ggamble" <gasfly @burnout.net> wrote:
> > > >msifg wrote:
>
> > > > > the syllable count reaching eleven on
> > > > > line three not only throws the beat off,
> > > > > the point was already made more adequately
> > > > > in the ten count in line two, especially since
> > > > > that's where the waves were broken.
>
> > > > Did your friend george teach you
>
> > > Maybe you can teach him about "Fred the Dog"... heh.
>
> > > --
> > > "Ashes to Justice", vocals by Will Dockery & Sandy Madaris, guitars by
>
> - Show quoted text -
some of my stabs at self expression:
Dale Houstman
>
> as far as the content of the lyrics, your
> rhythm is fine...i'm sure the content
> makes up for the lack of perfect pitch
> you possess. i'll have to continue
> coming to your page and delving deeper
> into your work, if for nothing else, inspiration.
>
If anything, his "content" is the worst part of the package. His "ear"
is flawed certainly, but that's nothing new, and even some very good
poets make similar missteps. The "content" is bland beyond bearing: it
mainly consists of rather flat descriptions of goings on at a religious
retreat, and wouldn't pass muster if they were written out as what they
actually strive to be: travelogue pamphlet snippets with a bit of rather
commonly held cultural and political ideas. It's simply not inspiring
work, or even adequate ad copy, and - despite any good intentions on his
part (and I don't doubt them) - they fail to arouse any real interest
that might promote awareness. I don't give a fly's fedora for the
christian aspects - there is great religious poetry and (more often) bad
religious poetry - but the presentation here appears to lack any "divine
touch" - it sounds as though he were never touched by the hand of any
god, leading to (literally) enthusiasm on his part or on the part of a
reader. The poems and lyrics are there, but that is all they are.
dmh
msifg
*obviously you missed the "spirit" wrapped in the
intent...it's not always about hitting a home run.
also, hitting a home run doesn't jive with the christian
way of forgiveness and compassion...i think the
things you pointed out about his work that
point to a lack of "promoting awareness"
outlines, even more, the validity in it's
workable christian attributes. (that's funny-
a socialist interested in "promoting.")
also, in your censure of his work, you don't
point to any alternatives or references
to support your argument that his work
pales in comparison to other christian
efforts...the only reason i mention that
is because this man holds a prodigious
amount of work under his belt. therefore,
out of respect for that fact alone, showing
him where you took the time to offer
alternatives or options to help him along
would be a minor thing to ask...
in my initial comment, i was careful
to admit that i was just getting started
toward comprehending the vast amount
of effort this man has demonstrated.
it may turn out that i don't take anything
else away but a sense of brotherhood
with a fellow traveler in the world of
self expression...is that so bad, and why?
is it any surprise to you that most of
the people who come here are intelligent
to know that their contribution to the
world of art will probably not amount
to much, if anything at all? further, is
it any shock that amounting to much
isn't the intent of many people who come
here? why do you suppose people
engage in the art of self expression?
before you answer that, could one reason
be because it brings them pleasure
and personal satisfaction and demonstrates
doing something constructive with ones
time to a world that would just as soon
blow the place to smithereens?
the act of engaging in self expression
was more important to the ancient
greeks than where it all ended up.
of course, their are the masters
and we all adore them. however,
their validity rests on the foundation
of the human experience...they don't
exist in a bubble somewhere...in a
separate reality. they depend on
a world that recognizes why they're
valid as masters...and, their students
and competitors make their mastery
possible...otherwise, how would the
world even know they were masters
at their craft?
the intent and the act go much further
than where it all ends up...that's my point.
matt
walkaboutsverse
and, frankly, I'll have to web-search a "fly's fedora"!...who's going
to win Wimbledon, I wonder?!
Poem 229 of 230: JOYS OF LIFE
Leightons, and other great art;
Plumes of fireworks at night;
The vivid reds of sunrise -
Repeated at day's last light.
The beats through us of a drum;
Winter's sun felt through closed glass;
Handing in the last exam;
Awakenings – alarmless!
The ball, off thee, whacks their net;
When, to palms, leather has stuck;
Orange juice during half-time;
A warm bath to wash the muck.
Viewing set-over cricket;
A golf ball, for once, well struck;
Viewing velodrome cycling;
From net-chord, levelling luck!
Sticks, chants, didgeridoo,
Haunting harps, and all bagpipes;
Clog, flamenco, tamure,
Hula, and other dance types.
Out, by a cast, being told;
In - taking tea and T.V.;
Highland views that command rest;
The buildings of Italy.
Thrifty plant-propagation;
By a wave one's body hit;
Upstream of camp - with paddle;
By a fire - strongly lit.
Forest spent-leaves under foot;
Tasting a host-nation's fare;
Alcedo atthis at work;
Just-bills being brought to bear.
Allegros when feeling low;
An andante to wind down;
Spoken French and chorused song;
The quiet when out of town.
A stroll through a kept garden,
Before Sunday's roast dinner;
A pub game, drink and meal;
One's team a comeback winner.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> matt- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
(TUNE:
E F# F# E D E F# F#
F# G G A B A G G
D G A A B B A A
F# G A B B A A-G G
D D F# F# F#-G F# E E
E E E E F# E D D)
Where traditions are not so rare;
Sea, country and works scent the air;
A multitude of monuments,
Planted tubs and patterned pavements.
The longish pedestrian malls;
The remnants of defensive walls;
"Broken-roofed buildings" are a gauge
Of the respect for heritage.
Wheat, rape and pines in the fields;
Estuaries guarded by shields;
Long sandy beaches and wide scenes;
Romantic-ruin go-betweens.
Rivers in parts licked by trees,
Or fringed by boat clubs, wharfs, gantries,
And crossed by practical delights -
Varied spans, forming pleasing sights.
Fine churches headed at Durham;
Football kits ad infinitum;
Kept castles - one for study;
Masonry behind masonry.
And, with moulding-works out that way,
It’s somewhere for a longer stay..?
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
(C) David Franks 2003
> > - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
walkaboutsverse
From outside metres-thick wall
(Down on leafy grounds grown tall,
Then across stony households
To lush-green sheep-grazing folds,
And up further to the moor),
Clitheroe Castle’s views soar.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
> Orhttp://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse
walkaboutsverse
In Sydney's Sutherland Shire,
There's a relaxing place to see:
It's called the Camellia Gardens,
And one can wander round for free.
Down and along an escarpment
Meanders a thin stony path;
Beside which grow the camellias -
Beaut. autumn-blooms the aftermath.
With the evergreen-camellias
Are a range of native species;
And, atop the leafy hillside,
A shop sells snacks, coffees and teas.
Plus, down below, there is parkland,
Where couples rest as children play;
And they walkabout the fish ponds,
Or the shoreline of Yowie Bay.
(But, regarding plant selection,
With more knowledge, over the years,
On flora, fauna and their links,
I'd say - natives not camellias.)
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003
On Jun 24, 9:21 am, walkaboutsverse <david1fra...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 114 of 230: CLITHEROE CASTLE’S VIEWS - SUMMER 2000
>
> From outside metres-thick wall
> (Down on leafy grounds grown tall,
> Then across stony households
> To lush-green sheep-grazing folds,
> And up further to the moor),
> Clitheroe Castle’s views soar.
>
Dale Houstman
Up a creek without a paddle
And down a rabbit hole,
Lies a garden called Wotan's Wig
And some coffee, and a roll.
Turning east (avoid the macaws)
You see two eggplant trees.
Do not climb the one on left,
You'll catch a leaf disease.
(But, in lieu of inside toilets,
Toy buckets are provided;
They line the paths to Hut Five,
Now do not get excited.)
Also just beyond the gift shoppe,
Potato chips and Cola,
And something for the young at heart,
A vintage Motorola.
Music soothes the salvaged beast,
And dance, hot soup, and bleating.
Three dollars buys confession,
And five (per night) a beating.
dmh
Dale Houstman
Who said anything about a "home run"? I would have settled for a neatly
executed bunt. And although you tell me I missed the "spirit," I tell
you (with as much evidence) that there is more spirit in any random
pebble along the road than there is in this sort of "poetry".
> also, hitting a home run
Again with the "home run": where in hell did you dig up that diversion?
I am telling you that the poem is bland / flat / uninteresting / dull /
un-involving, It is hardly expecting a "home run" to ask that a poem
written by a human being be vaguely interesting to read - or has
religious pride in the writer made him think he is above such minor
details as metaphor and imagery, and a voice that doesn't sound like a
tired guide at a Disney Wild Safari Ride?
> doesn't jive with the christian
> way of forgiveness and compassion...i think the
> things you pointed out about his work that
> point to a lack of "promoting awareness"
> outlines, even more, the validity in it's
> workable christian attributes. (that's funny-
> a socialist interested in "promoting.")
Who's a socialist, and why is your sense of humor so badly tuned? Anyone
who is stupid enough to think "promote awareness" has a capitalist
meaning is headed for trouble in life. And the first part of the above
paragraph makes absolutely no sense in several different directions: HOW
precisely does doing good work not "jive" with the Christian way, and
how precisely does creating unawareness enhance the Christian way?
>
> also, in your censure of his work, you don't
> point to any alternatives or references
> to support your argument that his work
> pales in comparison to other christian
> efforts...
Not true - I have mentioned Blake and St Augustine. I might reprint
examples (if you cannot find a library), but then I would be accused of
plagiarism or some other idiotic thing. There are lots of Christian and
other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
>the only reason i mention that
> is because this man holds a prodigious
> amount of work under his belt. therefore,
> out of respect for that fact alone, showing
> him where you took the time to offer
> alternatives or options to help him along
> would be a minor thing to ask...
And since I've already answered it (and he should know anyway: the Bible
itself is full of religious writing you know, and it is interesting,
lively, imagistic, ecstatic, and often promotes awareness - how odd) the
question is also unnecessary.
>
> in my initial comment, i was careful
> to admit that i was just getting started
> toward comprehending the vast amount
> of effort this man has demonstrated.
Long trip to a small beer...
> it may turn out that i don't take anything
> else away but a sense of brotherhood
> with a fellow traveler in the world of
> self expression...is that so bad, and why?
Because it isn't linguistic. No doubt you might "take away" a sense of
bortherhood with a fellow traveler, but you might do the same (and most
likely better) if you merely visited him and sipped lemonade on the
porch overlooking the Christian Gift Shoppe. Whether or not your skin
tingles every time you see a series of words hardly constitutes a
critical opinion. I am all for communion, but if the priest is serving
up corrupted wine and infested hardtack, one not only has the right to
complain, I think - as Christians, as humans - they have the duty. In
this case, although you are willing to settle for the mere "act" of
expressing, I (and most others who actually know something about poetry
and about what it can be) like to shoot for good works. After all, you
can read ANYTHING (Mein Kampf, or a travel folder, or instructions on a
camping stove) and be in the presence of expression, and bestow your
rather over inflated sense of brotherhood on those poor souls, who
probably need it more than Chuckie the Travel Adviser here.
>
> is it any surprise to you that most of
> the people who come here are intelligent
> to know that their contribution to the
> world of art will probably not amount
> to much, if anything at all?
Again - yes and so what? This is taking humility to a grotesque level of
sick pridefulness. Simply because one realizes that it is most likely
that one's work in life will not be recognized is not only NOT a reason
to do good work, it is a reason to redouble one's effort to do good
work. Or is excellence - or even mere adequacy - only to be attempted
when you know it will gain you an audience? Again - talk about the sin
of pride.
> further, is
> it any shock that amounting to much
> isn't the intent of many people who come
> here? why do you suppose people
> engage in the art of self expression?
You assume that all self-expression is art. It is an incorrect assumption.
> before you answer that, could one reason
> be because it brings them pleasure
> and personal satisfaction and demonstrates
> doing something constructive with ones
> time to a world that would just as soon
> blow the place to smithereens?
Again, so what? If the little travelogues provided here bring him
pleasure, then fine. But if he is presenting them publicly, then it is
sheer Pride on his part if he then presumes them to be above criticism
because they might contain some "spirit" in them. Poetry either has
limits (this is poetry, this is not: in simplest terms) or it simply
does not exist. It is very good if a person cobbles together a table for
dinner, and feels pride simply because they did it. But if we are forced
to sit at a table that collapses, we have the right to "express"
ourselves also. Or are you only feeling that "brotherhood" when the
self-expression is entirely non-threatening to your own sense of your
own abiltities? Pride, sonny,Pride...
>
> the act of engaging in self expression
> was more important to the ancient
> greeks than where it all ended up.
WTF?
> of course, their are the masters
> and we all adore them.
"There"
> however,
> their validity rests on the foundation
> of the human experience...they don't
> exist in a bubble somewhere...in a
> separate reality. they depend on
> a world that recognizes why they're
> valid as masters...and, their students
> and competitors make their mastery
> possible...otherwise, how would the
> world even know they were masters
> at their craft?
WTF?
>
> the intent and the act go much further
> than where it all ends up...that's my point.
It's not much of a point, but it is badly expressed.
dmh
Will Dockery
>
> I have mentioned Blake and St Augustine. I might reprint
> examples (if you cannot find a library), but then I would be accused of
> plagiarism
No, to "be accused of plagiarism" you would have to actually take
their writings and pretend that you had written them. And both of
these writers' work being in the public domain, you could legally do
that. You can even take their writings, do a William Burroughs cut-up,
rearrange the words, and generate poetry from them, which is also
legal, and not "plagiarism".
Seems like we've been through this before a couple of times... heh.
Peter J Ross
walkaboutsverse <david1...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> Poem 9 of 230: THE CAMELLIA GARDENS
>
> In Sydney's Sutherland Shire,
> There's a relaxing place to see:
> It's called the Camellia Gardens,
> And one can wander round for free.
>
> Down and along an escarpment
> Meanders a thin stony path;
> Beside which grow the camellias -
> Beaut. autumn-blooms the aftermath.
>
> With the evergreen-camellias
> Are a range of native species;
> And, atop the leafy hillside,
> A shop sells snacks, coffees and teas.
>
> Plus, down below, there is parkland,
> Where couples rest as children play;
> And they walkabout the fish ponds,
> Or the shoreline of Yowie Bay.
>
> (But, regarding plant selection,
> With more knowledge, over the years,
> On flora, fauna and their links,
> I'd say - natives not camellias.)
This is perhaps the best parody of William McGonagall I've ever read.
Er... that *is* what it's meant to be, isn't it?
--
PJR :-)
Peter J Ross
Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
> There are lots of Christian and
> other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
> above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
> awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
> immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
Hopkins and Herbert are the first that come to mind for me.
Here's something I wrote about Herbert a few years ago, which might be
useful to anybody who thinks that "spiritual" writing is such a special
kind of writing that it doesn't require any writing skills.
<http://www.everypoet.org/pffa/showpost.php?p=98002&postcount=1>
Dale Houstman
> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
> Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
>
>> There are lots of Christian and
>> other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
>> above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
>> awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
>> immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
>
> Hopkins and Herbert are the first that come to mind for me.
>
Good choices. Although - honestly - most Western writing of a certain
time period could be considered "religious writing", insofar as the
existence of God and the presence of Christ is an axiom. But the
funniest thing here seems to be that I am criticized for not providing
"alternatives" in the area of Christian poetry, so as to educate a
Christian poet. You would think someone who has made a life of being a
Christian and a writer would - at some point- have educated himself on
that fine point?
Also, there appears to be a presumption (with matt) that Christian
writing is fundamentally so different from regular writing that one has
to go prospecting for examples there. But poetry is poetry, despite the
ecclesiastical trappings, and any contrasting opinion (meant to hide
imperfections beneath the vague miasmas of "spirit" and to secure the
work from honest appraisal) is merely a matter of more damning Pride:
i.e. "I am too spiritual to submit to your analysis". Feh...
dmh
msifg
> Peter J Ross wrote:
> > In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
walkabout:
(at the manger...)
i bestow these gifts of poetry upon the christ child...
joseph:
i am no poet...but we accept your gift.
mary:
i have some training in poetics. oh...ew....
ouch...really..? you mean this as a "gift..?"
this is just god awful, tourist guide pamphlet
crap...how dare even consider this as a gift..
as a matter of fact..maybe i should call security.
i believe you intend to insult the birth of
my child, conceived immaculately, with this
boorish garbage.
the devil...this man is the devil...seize him!
joseph:
don't mind her...she read a book on poetics
last week and she hasn't been able to
get off her high horse ever since.
we accept your gift, sir...and, thank
you very much for your efforts to show
love and adoration for the christ child,
jesus.
(can i get an "amen..?")
Barbara's Cat
> walkabout:
> (at the manger...)
> i bestow these gifts of poetry upon the christ child...
>
> joseph:
> i am no poet...but we accept your gift.
>
> mary:
> i have some training in poetics. oh...ew....
> ouch...really..? you mean this as a "gift..?"
> this is just god awful, tourist guide pamphlet
> crap...how dare even consider this as a gift..
> as a matter of fact..maybe i should call security.
>
> i believe you intend to insult the birth of
> my child, conceived immaculately, with this
> boorish garbage.
>
> the devil...this man is the devil...seize him!
>
> joseph:
> don't mind her...she read a book on poetics
> last week and she hasn't been able to
> get off her high horse ever since.
> we accept your gift, sir...and, thank
> you very much for your efforts to show
> love and adoration for the christ child,
> jesus.
>
> (can i get an "amen..?")
No.
--
Cm~
"You are never given a wish without also
being given the power to make it come true.
You may have to work for it, however."
- Richard Bach, /Illusions/ (1977)
msifg
>
> - Show quoted text -
the shit is as shit does in the header
is an immediate stab at a flame.
your interest in being talked to
like an "adult" gets lost in translation.
try the daunting task of communicating
to others like you want to be communicated
to...i know this is difficult, but you must
make some kind of effort. otherwise, the
ship will be lost and you will be stranded
on this desert island with "shit" until death.
please, think it over, child.
Stuart Leichter
<05b94e81-8f38-48e6...@l28g2000vba.googlegroups.com>,
msifg <qop...@gmail.com> wrote:
Someone's mixing up the Roman Catholic Church Doctrines of the
Immaculate Conception and the Virgin Birth. Is it your mary, is it the
character your mary appears to be impersonating, or is it you?
Barbara's Cat
> the shit is as shit does in the header
> is an immediate stab at a flame.
> your interest in being talked to
> like an "adult" gets lost in translation.
> try the daunting task of communicating
> to others like you want to be communicated
> to...i know this is difficult, but you must
> make some kind of effort. otherwise, the
> ship will be lost and you will be stranded
> on this desert island with "shit" until death.
>
> please, think it over, child.
What ever gave you the impression
that I wanted to communicate with
with YOU, a gibber-speak cartoon?
I mean, it is my time and I don't
mind wasting a smidgen of it with
pointing and laughing at cartoons,
but hey, I have set myself limits
like not conversing with cartoons.
Get a language, then we'll talk.
--
Cm~
"i may be allot of things but
illiterate is far from one of them."
- Shit.Is.As.Shit.Does
Barbara's Cat
> the shit is as shit does in the header
> is an immediate stab at a flame.
> your interest in being talked to
> like an "adult" gets lost in translation.
> try the daunting task of communicating
> to others like you want to be communicated
> to...i know this is difficult, but you must
> make some kind of effort. otherwise, the
> ship will be lost and you will be stranded
> on this desert island with "shit" until death.
>
> please, think it over, child.
What ever gave you the impression
that I wanted to communicate with
you, a gibber-speak cartoon?
msifg
"get a language..."
hmmmm-
if and when i find this "language," why
on god's green earth would i want to
waste it talking to you..?
all you do is insult people.
you're somebody i would rather
give a good asswhooping...
no kookiness intended.
i work with people like you daily.
you're a bitchy little brat...i have
to get your dinner where i work.
now, kindly go fuck yourself...
(that felt good...)
matt
msifg
> In article
> <05b94e81-8f38-48e6-a31d-890bb1260...@l28g2000vba.googlegroups.com>,
>
> - Show quoted text -
careless use of metaphor...
everything that comes out of her body,
including her mouth, is "immaculately conceived."
matt
Dale Houstman
>
> careless use of metaphor...
> everything that comes out of her body,
> including her mouth, is "immaculately conceived."
>
Her mouth comes out of her body? sounds like Alien...
dmh
Barbara's Cat
> all you do is insult people.
You misspelled "crybabies".
--
Cm~
"Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st!"
- William Shakespeare
/Henry IV, Part II/
Doll Tearsheet
Act II Scene IV
walkaboutsverse
fast" (Measure for Measure)...
Poem 100 of 230: MONOPOLY
It seems to me,
Ideally AND practically,
In an equitable society,
A well-audited police-force and army
Should have a monopoly
On weaponry.
From http://walkaboutsverse.sitegoz.com (e-scroll)
Or http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
(C) David Franks 2003 or "Chuckie (not just) the Travel Advisor" (DH)
Peter J Ross
Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
> Peter J Ross wrote:
>> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
>> Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
>>
>>> There are lots of Christian and
>>> other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
>>> above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
>>> awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
>>> immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
>>
>> Hopkins and Herbert are the first that come to mind for me.
>>
>
> Good choices. Although - honestly - most Western writing of a certain
> time period could be considered "religious writing", insofar as the
> existence of God and the presence of Christ is an axiom.
Nevertheless, we don't think of Chaucer or Shakespeare as religious
poets, though they show no sign of denying the common beliefs of their
times. Even the inclusion of a long and well-written sermon in The
Canterbury Tales doesn't make anybody think of Chaucer as a religious
poet, while the author of Piers Plowman probably is.
Vaughan is classed as a religious poet, while his exact contemporary
Marvell isn't.
Chaucer and Marvell may have been just as devout as Langland and
Vaughan, if indeed Langland and Vaughan were devout. There are some
beginners in AAPC who seem not to be aware of the difference between
the poet and the poems.
> But the
> funniest thing here seems to be that I am criticized for not providing
> "alternatives" in the area of Christian poetry, so as to educate a
> Christian poet. You would think someone who has made a life of being a
> Christian and a writer would - at some point- have educated himself on
> that fine point?
It seems that some editions of the Bible contain an eleventh
commandment: Thou shalt blame Dale for thine own defects.
> Also, there appears to be a presumption (with matt) that Christian
> writing is fundamentally so different from regular writing that one has
> to go prospecting for examples there. But poetry is poetry, despite the
> ecclesiastical trappings, and any contrasting opinion (meant to hide
> imperfections beneath the vague miasmas of "spirit" and to secure the
> work from honest appraisal) is merely a matter of more damning Pride:
> i.e. "I am too spiritual to submit to your analysis". Feh...
I've recently received a revelation that Popeye the Sailor Man is the
one true God. I propose to write some poorly spelt, poorly punctuated,
poorly constructed prosy paeans to Popeye, and you'd better not dare
to criticise them. If they're acceptable to My Lord and Saviour Popeye
(which they are, even though I haven't written them yet), they're too
bloody good for the likes of you, damnèd thrall of Bluto that you are!
msifg
> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 14:33:15 -0500, Dale
>
>
>
>
>
> Houstman <d...@skypoint.com> wrote:
> > Peter J Ross wrote:
> >> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
>
> >>> There are lots of Christian and
> >>> other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
> >>> above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
> >>> awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
> >>> immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
>
> >> Hopkins and Herbert are the first that come to mind for me.
>
> > Good choices. Although - honestly - most Western writing of a certain
> > time period could be considered "religious writing", insofar as the
> > existence of God and the presence of Christ is an axiom.
>
> Nevertheless, we don't think of Chaucer or Shakespeare as religious
> poets, though they show no sign of denying the common beliefs of their
> times. Even the inclusion of a long and well-written sermon in The
> Canterbury Tales doesn't make anybody think of Chaucer as a religious
> poet, while the author of Piers Plowman probably is.
a woman's face with natures own hand painted;
hast thou the master mistress of my passion?
a woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted;
wish shifting change, which is false women's fashion.
an eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling
guilding the object where upon it gazeth.
a man in hue, all hues in his controlling
which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
and for a woman wert thou first created
'til nature as she wrought thee fell adoting.
and by addition me of thee defeated
by adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
but since she pricked the out for women's pleasure
mine be my love and my loves use their treasure.
william shakespeare
(kind of paints god save the "queen"
in a whole other light, eh mate..?)
> <http://pjr.lasnobberia.net/verse/>- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
i'm popeye the sailor man
no women aboard this ship
but i don't really need 'em
cause my brutus likes my seaman
i'm popeye the sailor man!
har har
(as two puffs of smoke come out the pipe.)
Karla
> > In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
I'd add Christina Rossetti to the list, and of course, C.S. Lewis.
As the Ruin Falls
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love – a scholar's parrot may talk Greek –
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
C.S. Lewis
This is one of my favorites - conversational, unobvious rhyme, it
doesn't scream "Christian."
Karla
msifg
>
> - Show quoted text -
i read, or gazed at the words of "the lion, witch and the wardrobe"
trilogy when i was a kid.
and, i know he's written a book called "mere chrisianity."
however, upon checking it out
i noticed it didn't have any pictures, so i moved on...
matt
Dale Houstman
> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 14:33:15 -0500, Dale
> Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
>
>> Peter J Ross wrote:
>>> In alt.arts.poetry.comments on Thu, 25 Jun 2009 08:26:48 -0500, Dale
>>> Houstman <dm...@skypoint.com> wrote:
>>>
>>>> There are lots of Christian and
>>>> other religious writers who do not (strangely) think it is beneath or
>>>> above them to do good work on their language, and to provide avenues of
>>>> awareness, or express epiphanies, or share struggles. You might find
>>>> immense "spirit" in tourist pamphlets, but I think that is frankly bullshit.
>>> Hopkins and Herbert are the first that come to mind for me.
>>>
>> Good choices. Although - honestly - most Western writing of a certain
>> time period could be considered "religious writing", insofar as the
>> existence of God and the presence of Christ is an axiom.
>
> Nevertheless, we don't think of Chaucer or Shakespeare as religious
> poets, though they show no sign of denying the common beliefs of their
> times.
True enough - I think I am more referring to the Victorian era. The
Church actually concerned itself relatively little with personal sins
and virtues at an earlier time. By Victorian times, we were in the full
flush of a raging morality monsoon which has scarcely abated in the States.
> Even the inclusion of a long and well-written sermon in The
> Canterbury Tales doesn't make anybody think of Chaucer as a religious
> poet, while the author of Piers Plowman probably is.
>
> Vaughan is classed as a religious poet, while his exact contemporary
> Marvell isn't.
>
> Chaucer and Marvell may have been just as devout as Langland and
> Vaughan, if indeed Langland and Vaughan were devout. There are some
> beginners in AAPC who seem not to be aware of the difference between
> the poet and the poems.
>
>> But the
>> funniest thing here seems to be that I am criticized for not providing
>> "alternatives" in the area of Christian poetry, so as to educate a
>> Christian poet. You would think someone who has made a life of being a
>> Christian and a writer would - at some point- have educated himself on
>> that fine point?
>
> It seems that some editions of the Bible contain an eleventh
> commandment: Thou shalt blame Dale for thine own defects.
I do...
>
>> Also, there appears to be a presumption (with matt) that Christian
>> writing is fundamentally so different from regular writing that one has
>> to go prospecting for examples there. But poetry is poetry, despite the
>> ecclesiastical trappings, and any contrasting opinion (meant to hide
>> imperfections beneath the vague miasmas of "spirit" and to secure the
>> work from honest appraisal) is merely a matter of more damning Pride:
>> i.e. "I am too spiritual to submit to your analysis". Feh...
>
> I've recently received a revelation that Popeye the Sailor Man is the
> one true God. I propose to write some poorly spelt, poorly punctuated,
> poorly constructed prosy paeans to Popeye, and you'd better not dare
> to criticise them. If they're acceptable to My Lord and Saviour Popeye
> (which they are, even though I haven't written them yet), they're too
> bloody good for the likes of you, damnèd thrall of Bluto that you are!
>
Heh. It's no different from the usual run of students in poetry classes:
there's always at least one (usually several) who will defend a bad poem
by saying either "but it really happened!" or different versions of "you
had to be there" ("you don't understand me" "I invested my entire heart
in that poem" "sob" and so on). It's the Usual Suspects...
dmh
Dale Houstman
> But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
>
> Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
> I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
> My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
> From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
>
> For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
> You give me are more precious than all other gains.
>
> C.S. Lewis
>
> This is one of my favorites - conversational, unobvious rhyme, it
> doesn't scream "Christian."
>
> Karla
I might suggest Emily Dickinson, although her expression of an relation
to God is quite "individualistic" at times.
And then - leaving the Desert Magician to his cloudy existence - there
are the rather more Eastern exhortations of the Beats: there is a lot of
relgious hoo-hah in Ginsberg and Kerouac, although one maybe cannot tell
how much of it is just the thin stench of an oncoming New Aged
pseudo-belief.
There's plenty of others...
dmh
Karla
> > But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
>
> > Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
> > I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
> > My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
> > From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
>
> > For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
> > You give me are more precious than all other gains.
>
> > C.S. Lewis
>
> > This is one of my favorites - conversational, unobvious rhyme, it
> > doesn't scream "Christian."
>
> > Karla
>
> I might suggest Emily Dickinson, although her expression of an relation
> to God is quite "individualistic" at times.
>
> And then - leaving the Desert Magician to his cloudy existence - there
> are the rather more Eastern exhortations of the Beats: there is a lot of
> relgious hoo-hah in Ginsberg and Kerouac, although one maybe cannot tell
> how much of it is just the thin stench of an oncoming New Aged
> pseudo-belief.
>
> There's plenty of others...
>
> dmh
You reminded me of William Everson (Brother Antonius):
"O Poets! Shamans of the word! When will you recover the trance-like
rhythms, the subliminal imagery, the haunting sense of possession, the
powerful inflection and enunciation to effect the vision? Throw off
this malaise, this evasion, this attitudinizing and sickliness of
urbanity. Penetrate to the discord in yourself, the rootlessness, and
induce the trance that will heal the rift within. Shamanize!
Shamanize! The American destiny is in your hands." -William Everson
(Brother Antoninus, O.P.)
His poems might shock some Christians - he explores passions of the
flesh right along side passions of the spirit, at times, the two
indistinguishable.
Karla
Will Dockery
>
> William Everson (Brother Antonius):
>
> "O Poets! Shamans of the word! When will you recover the trance-like
> rhythms, the subliminal imagery, the haunting sense of possession, the
> powerful inflection and enunciation to effect the vision? Throw off
> this malaise, this evasion, this attitudinizing and sickliness of
> urbanity. Penetrate to the discord in yourself, the rootlessness, and
> induce the trance that will heal the rift within. Shamanize!
> Shamanize! The American destiny is in your hands." -William Everson
> (Brother Antoninus, O.P.)
>
> His poems might shock some Christians - he explores passions of the
> flesh right along side passions of the spirit, at times, the two
> indistinguishable.
http://doriancope.blogspot.com/2009/05/15th-may-1871-rimbaud-writes-his-letter.html
"...The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, gigantic and rational
derangement of all the senses. All forms of love, suffering, and
madness. He searches himself. He exhausts all poisons in himself and
keeps only their quintessences. Unspeakable torture where he needs all
his faith, all his super-human strength, where he becomes among all
men the great patient, the great criminal, the one accursed--and the
supreme Scholar!--Because he reaches the unknown! Since he cultivated
his soul, rich already, more than any man! He reaches the unknown, and
when, bewildered, he ends by losing the intelligence of his visions,
he has seen them. Let him die as he leaps through unheard of and
unnamable things: other horrible workers will come; they will begin
from the horizons where the other collapsed! (to be continued in six
minutes...)” - Arthur Rimbaud, letter to Paul Demeny
"...I wish to be a poet, and I am working to make myself into a seer:
you will not understand at all, and I would not nearly know how to
explain it to you. It's a question of coming to the unknown through
the disordering of all the senses. The suffering is enormous, but one
must be strong, be born a poet, and I have come to terms with my
destiny as a poet. It's not at all my fault. It's wrong to say "I
think"; one ought to say "I am being thought" - Forgive the play on
words - I is somebody else.” - Arthur Rimbaud, letter to Georges
Izambard
--
Dockery, Conley, Madaris & Woolfolk: The Pack Rat Show
http://waydownincolumbusgeorgiablog.ning.com/xn/detail/3004227:Event:10132
The songs and poetry of Will Dockery, Henry Conley, Sandy Madaris and
Gene Woolfolk Jr. and interpretations of standards from various music
genres. Our "collective conciousness" = "pack rat".
msifg
> Karla wrote:
>
> > William Everson (Brother Antonius):
>
> > "O Poets! Shamans of the word! When will you recover the trance-like
> > rhythms, the subliminal imagery, the haunting sense of possession, the
> > powerful inflection and enunciation to effect the vision? Throw off
> > this malaise, this evasion, this attitudinizing and sickliness of
> > urbanity. Penetrate to the discord in yourself, the rootlessness, and
> > induce the trance that will heal the rift within. Shamanize!
> > Shamanize! The American destiny is in your hands." -William Everson
> > (Brother Antoninus, O.P.)
>
> > His poems might shock some Christians - he explores passions of the
> > flesh right along side passions of the spirit, at times, the two
> > indistinguishable.
>
>
> "...The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, gigantic and rational
> derangement of all the senses. All forms of love, suffering, and
> madness. He searches himself. He exhausts all poisons in himself and
> keeps only their quintessences. Unspeakable torture where he needs all
> his faith, all his super-human strength, where he becomes among all
> men the great patient, the great criminal, the one accursed--and the
> supreme Scholar!--Because he reaches the unknown! Since he cultivated
> his soul, rich already, more than any man! He reaches the unknown, and
> when, bewildered, he ends by losing the intelligence of his visions,
> he has seen them. Let him die as he leaps through unheard of and
> unnamable things: other horrible workers will come; they will begin
> from the horizons where the other collapsed! (to be continued in six
> minutes...)” - Arthur Rimbaud, letter to Paul Demeny
>
> "...I wish to be a poet, and I am working to make myself into a seer:
> you will not understand at all, and I would not nearly know how to
> explain it to you. It's a question of coming to the unknown through
> the disordering of all the senses. The suffering is enormous, but one
> must be strong, be born a poet, and I have come to terms with my
> destiny as a poet. It's not at all my fault. It's wrong to say "I
> think"; one ought to say "I am being thought" - Forgive the play on
> words - I is somebody else.” - Arthur Rimbaud, letter to Georges
> Izambard
>
> --
>
> The songs and poetry of Will Dockery, Henry Conley, Sandy Madaris and
> Gene Woolfolk Jr. and interpretations of standards from various music
>
> - Show quoted text -
is there a tour guide?
i really apologize for not being able to keep up...
i'm confident the "whore" makes it through the simulated
lack of grasp upon the situation at hand...
(please explain...please...)
this is the hand out at the edge of a cliff
thing here...
(the dots are supposed to reveal that.)
then, the parenthesis help keep the thing
in perspective.
(did i finally leave them out..?)
nope...
hope has all lot to do with this indecision made pubic...
i mean, public...but, i said pubic, so...(and the dots
reappear..) it looked like "public" anyway..from this
"distance" of literary grasp..syntactic simulation
disseminating upon the throng of hapless spectators..
(you do know about "hapless spectators," don't you?
they're the ones left behind as you mount your
pale horse and make off into the place you're describing
as your home..?)
back to what we were talking about...
(puff puff)
distractions
simulations
manipulations
gyrations
(or, is that girating "graps" of forgetfulness,)
details without boundaries
(what with these parenthesis..?like some kind
of thesis in need of "pare"medics...)
two dots tow the line when the "w"
precedes the "t..." where it leaves
it's mark...with the apostrophe coloring
it's tip...where the "p" hit my "i"
and left a mark where matt made
an attempt to "be" simultaneously...
anyway...who gives a "shit..?"
but, me...
yo
matt
Will Dockery
Yes... I think...
--
Dockery, Conley, Madaris & Woolfolk: The Pack Rat Show
http://waydownincolumbusgeorgiablog.ning.com/xn/detail/3004227:Event:10132
The songs and poetry of Will Dockery, Henry Conley, Sandy Madaris and
Dale Houstman
He's what they called a heretic...In the right time and place, he (and
his hearty band of fellow travelers) would have found themselves holed
up in a mountaintop castle, under siege from this or that national lacky
of the Vatican, and shamanizing their last shamanization.
Most poetry has either the stench of or the enfleurage of some sort of
religion, or - at the least - obsession. Even those little Surrealists
built an altar under the Imagination (as Blake did before them, like he
did before so many), although some of them had the courage to run a
spear through its side... There's nothing special at all about
religious/christian poetry as distinct from "just" poetry, which is
already celebrating the impulse that gave us all those little godlings...
dmh
msifg
>
> - Show quoted text -
"all poems have wolves in them."
jim morrison
Karla
Rather pantheistic of you, Dale. Didn't know ya had [it] in you.
For the most part, I agree with you about there being nothing special
about religious/christian poetry, especially when you come at it from
that angle. Poetry written to praise God is something else. Donne's
sonnet "batter my heart three-personed God . . . ", Hopkins' "Pied
Beauty", Thompson's "Hound of Heaven, etc. They're really well-written
poems too!
Karla
Dale Houstman
Oh, don't get me wrong: I have no truck with gods of any kind, but I am
intrigued by the imaginations that have created them, and by the fact
that that creation - before it is taken up by a "corporate" church - is
as individual and phantasmagoric as any.
> For the most part, I agree with you about there being nothing special
> about religious/christian poetry, especially when you come at it from
> that angle. Poetry written to praise God is something else. Donne's
> sonnet "batter my heart three-personed God . . . ", Hopkins' "Pied
> Beauty", Thompson's "Hound of Heaven, etc. They're really well-written
> poems too!
I suspect you don't (quite) get what I am saying - although I am just
humble enough to think it may be my fault: you're damn right about the
poems you note, and so many others: when I say there is nothing special
about religious poetry, all I mean is that a great poetic imagination
will do equally wonderful things with descriptions of socks and birds as
they do with heaven. After all, there must have been thousands of people
who tried to praise (or appraise) God/Jesus/Mary and the rest of the
company mascots and created unreadable shit: some of it no doubt like
the dry mutterings of a tired tour guide! The subject isn't the point.
Donne was obviously motivated by thoughts (and logics) of deity, but a
poetic mind as vivid as his - in a different age and culture - would
have been as resplendent on a different theme.
dmh