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.
23 comments:
I'm sorry you feel so ill TFE and hope you'll soon recover. I'm glad you are happier now than when you were young, but sorry that you weren't happy then. I have been very fortunate and think that all children and young people should be happy, though I know that's not realistic.
Thanks Heather,and if the worse comes to the worst and if they also lose my will,please remind them that I want to be buried upright in an armchair with a can of beer and a mobile phone-just in case :)
Sorry Jeanne I managed to lose your comments by re-editing my post. Doh! But thank you for them and please think good thoughts for Blue and gold ,Tipp! Tipp! Tipp!Don't spare the timber!
Blew me away with the poem, the thoughts, the honesty. (Off to unearth that crouching poem).
Be well, my friend.
"My rapid scythe" Woah!!!
Kat
The captcha is: "goritie" - apt, ain't it?
An intense expression of your core - I think the poem works very well, there are epiphanies in the cracking of these muddy, wrinkled cocoons. The poem is Stephen Crane
http://www.linguatech.com/scrane/scrane01.htm#poem03
So, according to the comment, you want to buried with the proverbial "jar of alcohol"?
Thanks Poetikat.i found the poem it is 'In the desert' by Steven Crane.
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 better put it in the post even though it shows up my effort to be hopeless shit! :)
ArtSparker-You beat me to it! I had to google it.You are so well read,I am jealous! :)And thanks for your positive comments Too
Oh, and ArtSparker,I get ye,'With a candle at my head and feet and a jar of alcohol' Don't know any poetry but I do know Shaney Mac :)
Hope you're feeling better tfe. That Steven Crane poem is unsettling and brilliant - as is your own of course :).
Powerful poem, TFE. I love the line "Lambs are words in dragons lair, my beautiful, ugly muse."
Wow.
Powerful stuff.
Stephen Crane the author of "The Red Badge of Courage"?
Kat
All sounds a little familiar.
And on we go. Where are we going again?
x
Sorry to hear you are dicky, mate., but wish I could do what you've just done when feeling that way, inspired or not! Feeling top hole soon, I hope!
Just visiting via Weaver. Sorry you're not 100%. Your words are powerful!
Can you catch swine flu via a blog? Govt. Advice suggests "Yes", so I'm not hanging around long. Get Well Soon. Refreshing post. Enjoyed your words. Stop.
TFE - I found your inspiration meme very moving indeed. Sorry you are feeling rough but hope you are soon better - hope it isn't the dready piggy flu.
You sound to me as though you are thoroughly inspired and that you are happier than you have ever been. What more could anyone wish for. Get well soon. Love
man out pours "i offer a broken vessel". no kidding!! thanks for your honest insight. that's inspiring. steven
Even pain can be inspirational I think. It tends to cut through the mucky stuff! I hope you feel better soon.
Paddy Rolling Stone -
I had to google it too.
Sending good wishes and get wellsoons... I felt like I was peering into your soul reading your poem, it felt wrong... like walking in on someone naked or crying or dreaming or all three.... Beautiful words... cheers for sharing them so freely.
Hello Feck, no matter whose work you post - it would never make yours seem like hopless shit. Great words - I love the first lines 'Someone told me how they felt - About the way I feel.'
It brings back awkward memories of feeling people sometimes have no idea.
But I am also happier than I used to be :-)
Love the new photo, it's beautiful.
Hope you feel better soon, and don't forget to have a crumpet handy in your armchair burial.
The words I knew
to say at the time,
the cuts of knives.
I like that part :-)
Hope you feel better soon, Eej, and remember if your mobile phone is with O2, you'll probably not have a signal....gits.
Hope you're feeling better. The Stephen Crane is horribly good! I liked yours too - the first 8 lines were especially good, I thought.
(Just returned from two nights camping in the Lake District. Peed it down virtually all the time).
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