He said What?

Hi Mervyn,

I always feel that Irish writers should be handicapped in some way - perhaps made to end each stanza or paragraph with a word ending in the letter Z.

So comfortable are the Irish with rythm and cadence however that i sdoubt een this would prevent their pre-eminence with language.

Let's face it, even George best was a poet!

You have probably gathered that i am wholly impressed with this poem. it has the elusive haunting quality that all 'eminscence' poetry must attain - but so few do.

I look forward to reading more in this series.

Best wishes

sbeckett

Feedback

Thanks for sending your poem, “And I dreamt…”

" As with your previous poems, this really conveys strong images of childhood and of the natural world. I love the way your poems seem to draw the reader in straight away – the imagery you use is very powerful and I could really imagine being there. I particularly liked the description of the sheep, the ‘keepers of the mountain’ - their lively characters contrasting well with the harsh image of the dead crows in the next.

The description of the blue bottle in the last verse, desperate to escape, is great and emphasises the peace and stillness of the room really well. I really like the way your writing conveys meaning so effectively and conjures up such strong imagery! "

" I really enjoy your poems - they have the magic of childhood and their particular time and place. We all have different experiences of childhood but your poems make the memories live for people who have not experienced them.

... I enjoyed your alliteration - those crows and the sheep. I like the way (think it called 'personification') you describe the sheep as 'keepers of the mountain'. I like the unexpected ways you use words, 'tidy death of flies', 'sunday afternoon sleeping uncles', 'sun spilled, living room'. Lots of visual and sound imagery.

" What can I say - a dreamy long lost time and I wish I could have been there, it sounds so wonderful and warm. The only thing missing is hearing it with the proper accent."

Poetry in motion

OK - today, despite the blanket news coverage of English football promotions struggles (WYCOMBE YEAH HEY HEY PROMOTED),

in a quiet corner, in a quiet bar, the unveiling of

POETRY IN PUBS took place unbeknown to the landlord and owner.

Take poetry to the masses......so I stuck a few of my misguided thoughts on the walls of the Wendover Arms.

Tonight Saturday 2 May First class band playing form 7.30 pm

Sunday 3 May Comedy evening from 7.30 three first class acts, plus an ' unannounced young poet from Ireland reading for first time in the UK (did I say/ think 'the world'?)

FIRST EVER READING UNDER THE POETRY IN PUBS franchise.

Hey, what more can this blog bring you....?

If you want contemporary poetry in your workplace, restplace or, even on your bog wall, you just got to call me....or email...

Tune for Today

Stop a while and listen

In Memory of Patrick

IN MEMORY OF Patrick Gilmore 06-02-1976 - 23-01-2009

" ....... so clearly, I cannot understand time. It is eternity now. I am in the midst of it. It is about me in the sunshine;

I am in it, as the butterfly floats in the light-laden air. Nothing has to come; it is now. Now is eternity; now is the immortal life.

Here this moment, by this tumulus, on earth,now; I exist in it.

The years, the centuries, the cycles are absolutely nothing; it is only a moment since this tumulus was raised; in a
thousand years it will still be only a moment.

To the soul there is no past and no future; all is and will be ever, in now. "

(from The Story of my Heart - by Richard Jeffries)

China - window on the world

Once in a lifetime something happens that changes you, something happens that changes your outlook on life, that changes how you relate to people, to yourself, to one another.

Having been privileged to have the opportunity to travel to China, thanks to your donations, a window opened and I saw with my eyes, felt with my heart and touched by the warmth, generosity, charm, courtesy and spirit of the Chinese people....

From people in the TianTan park ( Park of heavenly peace) at 7am in the morning doing Tai chi, to the Mongolian Wall seller, to the man at the corner shop, to the waiter, to the bicycle repair man on the street, to everyone we met, there shone through the indomitable spirit of the Chinese people.

A blaze of colour, reds and yellows, swept through the countryside, an order, a chaos, a cacophony, a silence, a beauty, a shyness, a fierceness, a tenderness, an unfamiliarity, a friendliness. One stranger meets another.

I dived into China, at the deep end. (I can't swim) I came up gasping for air. I struggled to the side and a stranger said , " you are my brothers and sisters'.

.... to be continued...