One step forward, two steps back ,keep moving. Medical blog ,stardate mono-time , cusp of August, twenty -ten. Feelin worse, chest infection,anti biotics, but not a sniff of in demand country and western star Tammy Flew. Black market supplies anybody???
Watch this space, Mr Spock, and tell bones to get his arse into gear, pronto!
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
EEjit surviving Swine flu
Thanks for all your good wishes, mucho appreciated. No swab test done to prove but Dr says in all likelyhood it's swine flu.They only test (here) if you have serious symptoms,.These 'mild' symptoms leave you feeling like you have been hit by a double decker bus (pains all over, hands, thighs and particularly back of chest,mine felt like I had been beaten with lump hammers, complete inability to move from the bed,wild horses wouldn't drag you nor a thousand euro tempt you,raging sweats -gallons of it and then frozen chillsan intense unlifting headache,chesty cough,occasional vomitting and that worrying feeling that you are dreadfully ill) so I sincerely pity the poor people whose symptoms are worse. Had a rotten interminable night last night,the worst of all, and yet here I am, hours later, at the computer again ,clearly over the worst and getting better.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Inspiration Wednesday
A meme from Weaver, who has a great blog http://weaverofgrass.blogspot.com/I should be answering this tomorrow but am sick as a dog today (Flu?) and may be sicker than one by Wednesday, so.. What inspires you ?Is the question.Nothing inspires me, is the answer.I had ridiculous nudges from the lives of Shane MacGowan,Brendan Behan,Dylan Thomas,Ted Hughes, 'On the road' so cliched ,I know, and the physical village of Heptonstall in South Yorkshire ,England.All a few years ago.The true stew of my creativity was pepared as a teenager by various negative factors.I was a branch growing towards the sky and I was cut off, sending me in a totally different direction.All the horrible ingredients boiled, boiled over.They simmer away still,(alcohol included unfortunately) in the kitchen of my mind, occasionally they boil, very very rarely.I am reminded of a poem , 'In the desert' by Steven Crane, not an inspiration, but it struck a chord.
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.”
I am happier now than ever before, I like my (not so) bitter stew and wouldn't swap it for anything,not even that branch I could have been.Something was taken away from me but a much better thing left in its place,it just took a while to realise.
Someone told me how they felt
About the way I feel.
Never was someone so far from the inner truth,
Pure gibberish,to my polished pearl.
Dreams of bicycles, cream teas,
put in the ring against
my rapid scythe ,my Molatov Cocktail,
my deepest well.
Lambs are words in dragons lair,
my beautiful, ugly muse.
The words I knew
to say at the time,
the cuts of knives.
I couldn’t use cowardice
as my blinkered views.
All to the altar of them
I offer,a broken vessel
patched in lines
on the printed page.
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.”
I am happier now than ever before, I like my (not so) bitter stew and wouldn't swap it for anything,not even that branch I could have been.Something was taken away from me but a much better thing left in its place,it just took a while to realise.
Someone told me how they felt
About the way I feel.
Never was someone so far from the inner truth,
Pure gibberish,to my polished pearl.
Dreams of bicycles, cream teas,
put in the ring against
my rapid scythe ,my Molatov Cocktail,
my deepest well.
Lambs are words in dragons lair,
my beautiful, ugly muse.
The words I knew
to say at the time,
the cuts of knives.
I couldn’t use cowardice
as my blinkered views.
All to the altar of them
I offer,a broken vessel
patched in lines
on the printed page.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The latest SHOp poetry magazine
A new SHOp mag http://www.theshop-poetry-magazine.ie/ is always an eagerly anticipated event at the castle and none more so than this summer issue which after about 5 years of dreaming/ trying has one of my photos on the front cover.Mucho gracias to Hilary and John Wakeman for their 'Jim 'll fix it' style dream come true. If nothing else happens I could (almost) rest easy with this.I'm not sure there is anything I wanted more.I have all 30 copies of the magazine from no. 1 in winter 1999 to no.30 summer 2009 and think it the finest poetry mag in the world.Everybody should be a SHOpkeeper.Now maybe if I could get another front cover and a poem in the same issue? Mmmm......
The EEjit has landed!
'Man and Superman, the world tour' has kicked off to a great start with 'The Watercats'http://thewatercats.blogspot.com/ down in Co. Waterford They have really captured the spirit of the enterprise perfectly and have taken some photos too go and have a look and while your there check out some of their deadly music.They write some really fine tunes and sing them beautifully, so beautifully in fact that they have just won €300 in a busking competition and will be in local papers and on Youghal local radio.This is partly due to their outstanding talent as performrs but mainly due to the good luck hosting my assemblage brings ;)Well done to them , they thoroughly deserve it.Meanwhile the world domination,er ,I mean tour ,continues with 'Man and Superman 'shortly to head for Dublin,then England, Gran Canaria,Idaho,California, Connecticut and Canada.If you want to take part in 'Moving statues,Art to the people' drop a comment in the comments box.Live long and prosper comrades.Be the way, Castle EEjit is in a state of discomstrangulartion at the moment and with all sorts of routine breaking maliferodgeons going on my precious thinking space, the one space I have ,has been infiltrated and if I can't think I canno write and If I canno write me mental chassis is in a total chaos.So hopefully normal abnormal service will soon be resumed.I find blog writing good practice and I miss doing it and commenting on the comments.Ah well, the word on the street is ENDURE.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
What's the word on the treat EEjit?
The word on the streeet, earthchildren, is DEFIANCE! My Revival (https://sites.google.com/site/revivalpress/) has arrival and I'm totalyo delightio with it. Not only is Liz (I've a great sparkling darkling skies no limit, future ahead of me) Gallagher (http://agcaint.blogspot.com/)in there, but also Nuala (I'm doing-the-do big stylee) Ni chonchuir( http://womenrulewriter.blogspot.com/) with her totally (and you really, really should read it) brilliant, sexy, clever, witty, Durcanesque, almost more Durcan-than-Durcan ,poem 'Dancing with Paul Durcan.(Her new Short story collection 'Nude' is out soon from Salt and I'm really looking forward to it) And many talented others. And me, of course, the finest poet that ever drew breath*
* Source Guiney's book o bollix
Friday, July 24, 2009
Moving statues
Put the message in a box ,put the box into the car,drive the car around the world, till you get heard..........
Man and superman (see http://totalfeckineejit.blogspot.com/2009/07/man-and-superman.html )the postmodernist ikeaesque non -iron ironic icons have landed safely under a kitchen table in Waterford.Literally narrowly escaping the jaws of death.They are then booked to fly to Dublin,England,Gran Canaria,California,Connecticut and Canada.If you would like to be part of history in the making and included as a venue for their world tour, please leave a comment in the comments box.Mucho, plentivo Tanxio comrades.
Ps All me bloggy followers have fecked off from me sidebar,I hope they come back.Wot's going on dudes? I blame WB meself.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Latest Revival out now
Revival is a great poetry journal from the whitehouse poets down in Limerick http://whitehousepoets.blogspot.com/.They hold a poetry reading every wednesday bringing the best of Irish and international poets into the Whitehouse bar, not only that but everyone and anyone can perform on the night They bring enthusiasm and accessibility to poetry. Listen to the wonderful introduction to the launch of Revival 12 by poet Richard Halperin who flew in from Paris specially for the night http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGwQEwe4cB4
I'm delighted to have a poem in this latest Revival,I haven't got me sweaty mitts on it yet but I love the front cover and I'm watching the post everyday with bated breath. One of my favourite poets Liz Gallagher http://agcaint.blogspot.com/ is also in it and that's one of the many reasons I love magzines like this that have a level playing field and give you the chance to appear alongside great poets. They chose the poem ,not the poet. I'm delighted also that Liz will be dropping by Castle EEjit in Octoberish to answer a few questions about her writing and her about to be launched first volume 'The wrong miracle' published by Salt.I buy very , very few books, I get most from the re-cycling centre but this is one book I will definitely be buying.
Here's the first 'Revival' poem I had published (About a painting in The National Gallery) in issue no 3,back in April 2007.
Johannes Greenberg’s Nude with masks (1931)
Even as I waited for the light in her eyes,
my stare was drawn, weak to
the bronze of her flesh-
another mask.
I had seen her nude before, but never naked,
and as she pulled away,
I took my only chance,
traded truth for lies,
and cloths for heaven.
Even as I waited for the light in her eyes,
my stare was drawn, weak to
the bronze of her flesh-
another mask.
I had seen her nude before, but never naked,
and as she pulled away,
I took my only chance,
traded truth for lies,
and cloths for heaven.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
What's the word on the street,EEjit?
The word on the street oh inquisitive searchlings is: YIELD
What else can I say inthe continuum of time and place and the listless shift of objects and parameters of perception other than 'Man and Souperman- the worldwide tour' getsunderway this Monday(weather permitting) asthey jet forth to the depths of waterford with eyes set on the future alightments of Dublin ,England and whatever other destinations may manifest theyselves till ultimately winging their autumnal way to the university of Connecticut in the U.S of A. (uniform statues of Amigos) I'm expecting great things of this inaugural exploration of art in the community, I'm aiming higher than the paltry limit of the skies-time maybe short,hence the hasty sketch of a pome written under duress and on top of the desk.I'm hoping there are no lies only reconstructions of the truth when i say........
End of days
And what if you had only
Seven minutes left
Would you have the steadiness of hand
To let them know (whoever they may be)
That one swallow could make a summer
One second a lifetime
Ask who will love us when we are gone
Who saw the moment when we shone?
Everything passes
We pass through
The one eternal moment
Till the beginning of the end
or the end of the beginning
What else can I say inthe continuum of time and place and the listless shift of objects and parameters of perception other than 'Man and Souperman- the worldwide tour' getsunderway this Monday(weather permitting) asthey jet forth to the depths of waterford with eyes set on the future alightments of Dublin ,England and whatever other destinations may manifest theyselves till ultimately winging their autumnal way to the university of Connecticut in the U.S of A. (uniform statues of Amigos) I'm expecting great things of this inaugural exploration of art in the community, I'm aiming higher than the paltry limit of the skies-time maybe short,hence the hasty sketch of a pome written under duress and on top of the desk.I'm hoping there are no lies only reconstructions of the truth when i say........
End of days
And what if you had only
Seven minutes left
Would you have the steadiness of hand
To let them know (whoever they may be)
That one swallow could make a summer
One second a lifetime
Ask who will love us when we are gone
Who saw the moment when we shone?
Everything passes
We pass through
The one eternal moment
Till the beginning of the end
or the end of the beginning
Friday, July 17, 2009
Man and Superman go on tour
Sometimes it's hard for people to get to art exhibitions, let alone afford to buy any, myself included, so with this in mind I have decided that art should go to the people. My idea is that if anyone is interested in borrowing 'Man and superman' I will post it to them to keep for ,let's say a week, maybe longer depending on demand, then they post it on to the next person for another week etc etc. Should anyone fall in love with the piece they may ,of course ,buy it. I further propose that the temporary custodians post a picture of the piece in situ in their home and write a few lines on their blog how they and their family feel about it, positive or negative -whatever. If anybody is interested just post a comment in the comment box,should a few people be interested I will work out a rota. This is part of the peoples republic of EEjit Art in the community project,art by the people for the people.Thank you bloggy comrades.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Ode to the mouse
Oh! Mouse, mouse,
though we think
mice are nice,
we didn't like you around
the house,
eating our home,
or,
the cord from the telephone,
so,
we fucked ye out of it.
Okay, strictly speaking this may not be an ode,we don't live in a house ( castle didn't rhyme and rhyme was the vital essence of the poem) we don't have a phone but that's poetry. Also we didn't feck the poor little mouse out of the castle at all,no,no,no. ........We poisoned it.
Ps. 'A1 Mouse on a brass block' €299 plus p+p. Signed copy of poem included. Support CRAP. (SCRAP for short)
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Man and Superman
After the great success of my garden sculpture 'Hippo on a Motorcycle' (the hippo now named Marlon , thanks to Artspeaker) , and due to the torrenial rain, I have turned my hands to indoor Desktop sculpture.This proved a lot more challenging as the first one happened more or less by chance, but this one actually took a bit of thought. As part of my CRAP fund raising campaign I am pricing this one at a more realistic (and possibly bargain) price of €49 plus P+P.The eyeball is signed and dated and the whole thing will no doubt become a collectors item.In the meantime it could provide daily joy in your home.As this is a one-off piece, it will be sold on a first come first served basis.This unique assemblage(thanks Susan for that word) comes in 4 easy to assemble parts and can be posted worldwide.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
More woeful William
Under bare Brenda Mullen's head
In Drumcliffe Churchyard I got laid
a red ant bit her rectum there
ten minutes ago, plum on the rear,
By the feck that made her cross,
a warble,an unmentionable phrase;
I thought I had hit the old G spot
that's because I was half-cut
cast a beedy eye
on her, on me.
Tourist, pass by!
THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE BY WB GRATES
I need a pay rise to go now, to go to Innisfree
And a big house build there, of bricks and mortar made:
Nine BMW’s will I have there, some five series and a three,
And live alone in a Beemer loud glade.
There will be no peace there, for I’ll be shouting ‘No!’
When all my in-laws come visiting and asking me for things;
all leaning on a zimmer, their noses a purple glow,
cigarettes vodka and red bull took away their wings
I need a pay rise to go now, despite working night and day
I hear the debt collectors raging knuckles knocking on my door
While I hide in the wardrobe, my hair is turning grey,
I’m totally fucked at forty –four.
And a big house build there, of bricks and mortar made:
Nine BMW’s will I have there, some five series and a three,
And live alone in a Beemer loud glade.
There will be no peace there, for I’ll be shouting ‘No!’
When all my in-laws come visiting and asking me for things;
all leaning on a zimmer, their noses a purple glow,
cigarettes vodka and red bull took away their wings
I need a pay rise to go now, despite working night and day
I hear the debt collectors raging knuckles knocking on my door
While I hide in the wardrobe, my hair is turning grey,
I’m totally fucked at forty –four.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Today's the Day.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
I go you go we all go to Sligo
Been away fecked my ankle rubbernecking worse history sandy dunes loose rocks saw this heard that the lack of something was everything Bull in the field rights of way corncraked corn heatwave seashore the land of hearts desire ruins myths legends smoke mirrors and mist long found relatives lost in graveyards the house gone people gone memories whatever you make them the old ways bad memories bad cess nudists iron edged voices monuments art beyond the river WB still does little for me in a book or under bare B. Bulben's head tuna melt chips and latte €7 never made the pint in Lauras traipsed the hobbled cobbles mohican lead us Artrasna bound the last stop before then the bridge before the railway before we left the lodger burnt down that time creaking bones hinges damp walls saw the bullet fly in my minds eye full circle at the beginning was the end St Colmans mullingar ancient boulders lost kings left rings neath Knocknarea homeward battled the ham sandwiches at Curlews pass Boyle limped across taking photo
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