DaDiPoMo
DaDiPoMo
A lune, apparently ...
Four pints of bitter
and music
aid enlightenment.
The morning after, punctuated and extended ...
Four pints of bitter,
and music,
aid enlightenment,
oiling the doors of
perception
so that they open
easily, without
your falling
through them, slapstick style.
Four pints of bitter
and music
aid enlightenment.
The morning after, punctuated and extended ...
Four pints of bitter,
and music,
aid enlightenment,
oiling the doors of
perception
so that they open
easily, without
your falling
through them, slapstick style.
Re: DaDiPoMo
The morning after: judiciously (I hope) punctuated and extended.
Re: DaDiPoMo
Nice.
Although I thought "slapstick style" was possibly redundant explanation.
Although I thought "slapstick style" was possibly redundant explanation.
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
- bodkin
- Moderator
- Posts: 3182
- Joined: Sun Dec 21, 2008 9:51 pm
- antispam: no
- Location: Two inches behind my eyes just above the bridge of my nose.
Re: DaDiPoMo
Nice. Maybe I like the "slapstick style" as it makes it a self-critical remark from the speaker...?
http://www.ianbadcoe.uk/
Re: DaDiPoMo
Thanks, Seth & Ian. Ian, that was the intention (and hope).
Anyway, day 2, such as it is ... (Shucks, I'm a day behind already). I'm reusing some of an old poem, if you think you recognise anything.
This is Crete. The balcony
of our apartment: breakfasts
of bread and honey, simple
and ambrosial.
It is warm already.
Greek rises like steam
from the seething street below.
The sun is moving across
the tiled floor, awakening
each row in turn
as though they were
the plains of Thessaly.
Here I am, crouched
over a postcard, probably,
distilling the experience
into brisk commonplaces.
The boy looks watchfully
out of his guarded corner.
The girl, more exuberant,
on my other side,
is acting out a healthy
disrespect behind my back.
Instead of a laurel wreath
she gives me bunny ears.
Anyway, day 2, such as it is ... (Shucks, I'm a day behind already). I'm reusing some of an old poem, if you think you recognise anything.
This is Crete. The balcony
of our apartment: breakfasts
of bread and honey, simple
and ambrosial.
It is warm already.
Greek rises like steam
from the seething street below.
The sun is moving across
the tiled floor, awakening
each row in turn
as though they were
the plains of Thessaly.
Here I am, crouched
over a postcard, probably,
distilling the experience
into brisk commonplaces.
The boy looks watchfully
out of his guarded corner.
The girl, more exuberant,
on my other side,
is acting out a healthy
disrespect behind my back.
Instead of a laurel wreath
she gives me bunny ears.
Re: DaDiPoMo
Sweet ending.
The plains of Thessaly? Definitely cheating.
Seth
The plains of Thessaly? Definitely cheating.
Seth
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Re: DaDiPoMo
Recycling.Antcliff wrote:Sweet ending.
The plains of Thessaly? Definitely cheating.
Seth
Re: DaDiPoMo
We fray into the future, rarely wrought
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Save in the tapestries of afterthought.
Richard Wilbur
Re: DaDiPoMo
I have fallen by the wayside. No, leave me here. Don't try to carry me. I'll only slow you down.
-
- Moderator
- Posts: 7970
- Joined: Sun Dec 07, 2008 4:53 pm
- antispam: no
- Location: this hill-shadowed city/of razors and knives.
- Contact:
Re: DaDiPoMo
We've got you tucked into the cart beside the turnips now. You're not allowed to leave.David wrote:I have fallen by the wayside. No, leave me here. Don't try to carry me. I'll only slow you down.
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
___________________________
Antiphon - www.antiphon.org.uk
___________________________
Antiphon - www.antiphon.org.uk