Saturday, December 5, 2009

Mission accomplished.Word on the streets.


I've been neglecting my blog too much lately, letting real life and important things get in the way.Tis time to try and redress the balnce and post more often.



Well anyways it's put a poem in a shop month a project devised by Bus Poet and broadcaster extraordinaire Niamh Bagnell (Details here)http://variouscushions.blogspot.com/2009/11/another-monday-poem-in-preparation-for.html



A simple but ingeniuos plan, write a short(4 lines I think) poem and place it on a shelf in a local shop for an unsuspecting customer, so that their tawdry lives may be changed beyond all previous recognition by the benificent magnificence of our words. Takea photo as a record/proof and post it on your blog.



This reminded my of Liz Gallaghers lost poetry notebooks and how cool it would be to find one.I also thought of messages washed up on distant shores in glass bottles.If the poetry bus (T.M) had kept going (or when it gets going again) I was going to suggest leaving the poems in remote out of the way places.Imagine finding one battered by the breeze pinned to a remote outcrop with a message saying 'Take me home'



So I didn't stick to the four lines but this was lying round so I put it in the book section of a local supermarket. Not wanting to draw too much more attention to myself (I was dressed as a spaceman) Iused a mobile phone camera to record the event.Unfortunately I have never used one before and failed to save the image.



Fortunately I had a back up pic at home showing Jimmy The Butlers pet mouse, Fergus Hyposperous, with the poem.The original idea was to send Fergus in on his own with the poem but as he has wheels instead of legs(terrible tragedy, don't ask) he couldn't place the poem above floor level,so I had to do it.


I will go back today and see if it is still there, grab a pic if it still is. Join in why doncha?

Performance poem

It wasn’t The Chelsea
It wasn’t The Shelbourne
Drunk on devils paints
dreaming of the eternal dream Of
escape
of
a car brim full of petrol and hope
A V8 thrub to the coastal beat new paths
Less travelled horizons
Crescendo dims with the dawn
Reality is….
A monotone train on a single track
There and back
There and back
There and back

Ps.Did anyone spot the (almost) hidden sad face at the bottom right of Sylvia's grave pic?Click on it Blow it up to 100% and there, just beneath the first pale rock is a little sad face.Spooky!

23 comments:

Heather said...

Couldn't find the face - sorry - but I do like the way the photo fades out of colour and into black and white. I'm trying to think of which shop to leave a poem in, always assuming I can write the poem!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Brilliant idea TFE but don't know whether I dare do it in such a small, insular place - I think i would have to travel a bit further afield, so that I would not be found out.
And yes = the farmer brings me tea in bed every morning - coffee on Sundays. Why do you think I married him?

Poetikat said...

There, there, TFE. You and I seem to be in some sort of doldrums.
This is our mantra:
"Reality is….
A monotone train on a single track
There and back
There and back
There and back"

This is our mantra.
(This is our mantra.)
Open bottle. Tilt head back. Go!

Lovely idea. Will do.

Going to look for spooky Sylvia face. If you read my BFTP post about my room, you know I had a Hitler-figure on my bedroom mural wallpaper! I am more like Sylvia than I care to admit.

Kat

Niamh B said...

Like the "drunk on devils paints",,, nice poem, I love that you invaded the book section of the supermarket too, great location choice... Well done poetry guerrilla!!!

the word verification is a very suitable "urgente"

ArtSparker said...

The journey tends to toggle back and forth for me...We think we're on a predictable train, but then it turns into some kind incandescently speeding thing before it gets boring again.

This is a lovely project, I have left decorated sticks for people to find. It also reminds me, time to do more of that - thank you.

Sandra Leigh said...

One of our local poets leaves her poems all over town. I think it's a great idea and yes, I think I'll do it, too. I think I'll work on some haiku for the purpose.

I do hope you get that bus going again, TFE. I miss our excursions.

Tuesday Kid said...

I want to find one of these poems. Get placing!

John Hayes said...

Wonderful poem, TFE--I like this A LOT--& would be happy to come across it in a random location!

Argent said...

I love the idea of releasing poetry into the wild like that. Must have a go at it, myself. Our local Tescos is the biggest in Europe (well it was for 5 minutes after it was built anyways). That might be the place, by the baked beans perhaps.

Titus said...

Yay! Go TFE. Inspired choice of location - just that little touch of possibility that someone will find it, treasure it, take it away - and those are good words.
Love those last four lines especially.
This is a good game.

Does the little face look like an alien head lying on its side?

Jeanne Iris said...

Hey TFE, good to hear from you again! Oh, I love your poem, too. Wonder who the lucky one will be who picks it up.
Great poetry idea. I think I'll place mine in the oatmeal section of Shaws Supermarket....or maybe I'll place my 'Beoufed' poem in the roast beouf section. Will decide tomorrow.

Once, I found a lovely poem in an antique book, written by a Winifred Winslow around the turn of the century. Ever hear of her? I consider it a sweet treasure.

Yes! I see the face! Had to play with the contrast a bit, but there it is. Spooky, indeed!
In a tree just outside my front door was the face of St. Anthony or maybe it was St. Francis of Assisi... one of those monks. Every time it rained, the impression was clearer. Then, it got some kind of disease, and the face turned into Hitler. The tree had to go.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Oh you can write the poem alright, Heather! I'll post a blow up of the face.

Totalfeckineejit said...

You'll find somewhere Weaver, you are so well travelled.I knew it would be The Farmer!My uncle Timmy did the same for my Auntie Maura every single day all their married lives and he never knew (they're both dead now) that she never ever drank even one of them!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Go for itKat,even a Haiku! :) (bless you)I'm always in the Gold drums.

There and back tip it back! Yahoo!
(i'll post the face)

Totalfeckineejit said...

Niamh B, thank you fearless leader!

Totalfeckineejit said...

ArtySparkey, decorated sticks?Ooohhh how lucky are they that found them!Leave one over here somewhere!

Totalfeckineejit said...

She doing that on purpose Sandra, or is she just forgetful? Looking forward to reading/seeing yours!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Good luck Tuesday Kid, I'm sure they'll be appearing in a shop near you soon,this thing is spreading like warm butter! Are they Gimps or Chimps in your pic?

Totalfeckineejit said...

John, I've always known you as a man of impeccable poetic taste, well done!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Yes Argent, I likes that idea, releasing poetry into the wild, cool!See them running amok among the beans, breaking open a can, eating the lot and farting with abandon! Go poems!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Titus, I think you may have found another face!Where's Wally has nothing on my Sylvia's grave pic.Could be a best seller!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Jeanne, that is so funny that the face turned into Hitler! You been talking to Poetikat above? No, never heard of Winifrid Winslow, but what a great find!Good luckwith your Geurilla poetry shop posting!

Jeanne Iris said...

OMG...didn't realize that Poetikat and I both had Hitlerian apparitions. Now that's spooky! Actually, mine kinda looked like a combination of Hitler and Charlie Chaplin, depending on the humidity. But the tree still had to come down.