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

13 comments:

ArtSparker said...

Hard to choose, even with one's life (theoretically) stretched out in front of one.

Dr. Jeanne Iris said...

I love this poem!!!

TFE, if I add a few chords, could I please make it into a song to sing with my celtic harp? Pretty please???

Jasmine said...

Great picture, great blog name too!

Heather said...

That poem is beautiful and very thought provoking. If I had only seven minutes left I'd think of all the things I should have said and done, and know it was too late. I'd better start putting that right now!

Carol Q said...

I'm no poetry expert - is that yours or someone else's? I really like it.

The Weaver of Grass said...

If that was your poetry written under duress TFE then all I can say is write it all under duress - love it.
I half-expected to be writing this from the ark but water has subsided and flooding is an though it never was.
Loved your Vic/Jim mix up - made my morning.

Batteson.Ind said...

The word on the street says... that's a fecking amazing little poem. It was one that really made me still.... not many poems do...
:-D

Totalfeckineejit said...

Yes hard to know ,ArtSparker, and hard to know if we have 7 minutes ,or days or decades?

Jeanne, that would be deadly! Let us know how ye get on , maybe you'd put on yatube? ( so, you really can play the harp, eh?)
I think I said it before but have you heard Sinatra sing 'I left my harp in Sam Plank's disco'? Whaddya mean it wasn't even funny da foist time?

Tanx, Jasmine, and welcome to my humble ablog :)

Thanks Heather, and I agree with you but Boy it's hard!Like revising for exams im thinking I'll do it at the last minute.Trouble is in life we don't know when that minute is gonna be.

Thanks, alcoholinky, I'm to blame, the rest of the world is innocent :)

Thanks Weaver,glad the rain has subsided and not the house! Light showery stuff here,we had our summers day.Glad too you liked the wrong Reeves :)

That's a cool and generous thing to say ,Watercats, thanks. :)

Niamh B said...

That's a very touching poem alright. Shivery,

Totalfeckineejit said...

Hey Mrs Niamh (no 2 on the Man and superman world tour, yippee!), I think that maybe due to those draughty French windows.Get a carpenter round before the winter sets in. Pip, pip!

Carol Q said...

well worth being guilty for....

Tess Kincaid said...

Powerful piece of poetry. Nice.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks again alcoholinky :)


Thank you Willow :)