Sunday, March 7, 2010

Das Poetry Bus ist schnell und schon.

Can you believe it's almost Monday? It doesn't seem hardly even almost a week since last monday. Time is such a funny substance, sometimes you have piles of it on your hands and you can't seem to wash it off , even with a brillo pad.
Other times it slips through your fingers like sand and you can't keep hold of it, nor track of it. . A buttered up pig on poteen and Red Bull is easier to contain . But what is time? How do we really measure it? In pints or bottles? How do we know when time is up ? How do we know when time has run out? And where is it going, why the hurry? Maybe it's trying to catch The Poetry Bus....Go greased lightning it's burning up the quarter mile, go greased lightning, ooh greased lightening!

Yes Folks , its party time again. A peoples poetry party , where people write poetry and post it on their blogs and pretend we're all on a bus. And why not? We come to raise Caesar not to marry him.

My poem is shite, no sorry, my poem is ' a work in progress' I'll post it now in all it's raw monstrosity and ineptitude and you may even see it metamorphosise before your very mince pies over the next couple of tangents in the cosmos otherwise known as days. Or not.(Time can touch the circle of life but it can never cross it, unless the lollipop woman is there)


I’m still on

The train to Aberystwyth
I had a ticket, a lift to the station.
Early morning, Uncle Liam granite man
The great escape, windows and fields flying by
Every passing house another few bricks away from home
And everything noosed me to the seat

The train to Aberystwyth
Left from Reading or Watford and changed at Crewe
I was meant to try and save me
A lifeline thrown , clickety clack.
Beer and sandwiches, heaven on a plate
Stale dust rising in morning light
Hearts can carry heavy weight
The irony of intent Romeo and due regret
Dire Straits how apt
Clickety clack don’t look back

Trains to Aberystwyth always leave
They never arrive, lost in self
Reflections of faces in the window
A thousand breaths of relief hypnotic
Passing over gravel and sleepers
Iron wheels spark steel tracks
Always there never back
Always there never back
Always there.


The bus this week is driven by The Fonz and first aboard is...
Terry


Jeanne


Karen


NanU


Don't Feed The Pixies


Swiss


Rachel Fox


Weaver


Titus


Pure Fiction


Dominic Rivron


Niamh


Emerging Writer


Brigid


P.Nolan


Heather


Argent


Crazy Field Mouse


Poetikat


NanU (part deux)


Domestic Oubliette


Teressa

46 comments:

Karen said...

Not rough at all - very telling: "The great escape...meant to try and save...A lifeline thrown...The irony of intent...a thousand breaths of relief...". This tells a story and creates a mood and does everything a good poem should do!

Jeanne Iris said...

"Stale dust rising in morning light" reminds me of Los Angeles, all that smog settling o'er the horizon there. I like the movement of this poem, TFE. Great topic! Thanks!

Terry said...

Glad to have you back, as a "work in progress" your poem is definitely on the right track! My train poem is up and ready to go!

Moira said...

Where in the name of all that's holy is Aberystwyth? And I couldn't pronounce it even if I was sober. I like your poem a lot especially the last verse.

NanU said...

I likes it, I likes it! Really catches the feel of trainriding and the ambivalence of leaving/arriving and the endless things going by out the windows.

Niamh B said...

Like the shape of this alot TFE - and "A thousand breaths of relief hypnotic" is my favourite line - there's a nice rhythm to it.
Glad you're back on the bus and not just driving!!

Don't Feed The Pixies said...

My poem is up =- loved yours. did you know that the train station bearing the plaque that says "homeward bound was written here" is actually the wrong one - because the right one is no longer open to the public

Paul Simon is probably fuming as we speak

Heather said...

Jawohl, Mein Herr!! I like your poem and hope you got to Aberystwyth on time. I'll be at the bus stop tomorrow.

swiss said...

i'm with niamh with the breaths. and i like aberystwyth.

me, mine's have left the station

Rachel Fox said...

I like this line
"Every passing house another few bricks away from home"

Will post something in a while.

x

Rachel Fox said...

Here's all I could manage this week.

Peter Goulding said...

Aberystwyth! Now there's a name to come up for a rhyme with.
A hand's a great thing to grab a wrist with / Whenever you travel to Aberystwyth.
My tender and heart-warming love poem is up.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Why thanks ye Karen!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks ye kindlo Jeanne!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Good man Terry , must get back to look at yours.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Abber ist with, Moira is in Wales. I spent a week or two there when I should have been at skool!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thankxs ye NanU gl;ad ye likes!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks Niamh, the shapew was foisted on me by blogger but I likes it too!

Totalfeckineejit said...

That is funny DFTP, about the paul simon sign. Wasn't it stolen once too?

Totalfeckineejit said...

See you tomorrow , H.

Totalfeckineejit said...

I'd love to take a trip back to Aber, Swiss.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Tankxs Foxo.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Nice Rhyme there Pete.Could be a whole exrecise in itself.

If you go to Aberystwyth
make sure you have someone with a lisp
to go on the pith with?

The Weaver of Grass said...

Love the poem -of course it is work in progress - it is progressing down the track to Aberystwyth. Not sure why anyone would want to go there though.

Still struggling with a bad back but have managed a poem for the bus (I don't use my back to write, only my brain and that does need the exercise).

So - have just posted my poem on my blog.

the watercats said...

heeeeyyyyyyy.... *said fonze style..
That isn't a heap of shite poem! For a start it looks beootiful, shape wise on the page and secondly, it has a very definite depth. I love the way it ends, almost in a sigh of the rhythm. Just fablus!...
Am just about to watch them other you tube links :-)

ArtSparker said...

I know there is a University there, it sounds so mythic though, like a whisper of heaven.

Totalfeckineejit said...

You no likey Aberystwyth Weaver? Long LOOOONg time since I was there but happy memories. I t was like being drunk for two whole weeks.Actually come to think of it, I was drunk for two whole weeks.
I'm sorry your back is so bad, it must be awful, any chronic pain is awful.
Might send you a poteen rub.If it doesn't work,You could always drink it.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks Uiscekateens, shape does change a pome doesn't it? This was bloger's or Picassa's idea not mine, I do what my computer dictates, but I do likes it. Watch out for Breezy's wash board!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Sparkey, you know everything!The university is where I was heading, I slept there(in my sister's room) in the all-girls halls of residence, which to a callow youth was an education itself.

Titus said...

All aboard!
Well, I am now, anyway.

Titus said...

"noosed me to the seat" is brilliant, and I loved
"Always there never back
Always there never back
Always there."
In fact, I loved the last verse particularly.

I've been to Aberystwyth.

Pure Fiction said...

Great poem - love the formal shape.

I really like the last verse, particularly Trains to Aberystwyth always leave
They never arrive.

I'm already to hop on the bus

Dominic Rivron said...

A last minute entry!

http://dominicrivron.blogspot.com/2010/03/desperadoes.html

Liked your poem - clickety clack. Took me back.

Apparently, diesels these days go boggler boggler boggler boggler etc.

Emerging Writer said...

My WIP is on board too. Just left Crewe station.

Brigid O'Connor : said...

Hi introducing myself and love your poetry bus idea, I'm Irish blogger on
http://sortofwitty.blogspot.com/
and have put up poem I prepared earlier (recycled train competition poem) on my blog
Looking forward to reading them all

P Nolan said...

Aberystwyth - that name is a poem in itself.

On track here:

http://pjnolan.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-bussing-training-day.html

Brigid O'Connor : said...

Hi, have posted a contribution to your Poetry Bus on my blog
http://sortofwitty.blogspot.com/2010/03/poem-for-tfe-poetry-bus.html
Great idea,
technology failing me this morning so ignore this comment if you got it already,

Heather said...

Just hopped on the Poetry Bus - thought you'd like to know.

Argent said...

Ok, I was delayed by leaves on the line but I'm abord now!ini

Average Terran said...

Great stuff here! Well done! I would be truly honored if you gave your poetic advice on my blogs of poetry and follow them if you like.

http://thehumanicana.blogspot.com/

http://humanicanagold.blogspot.com/

If you found my poetry interesting I would love it if you followed my blog of Idealism and justice.

http://terrandaily.blogspot.com/

crazyfieldmouse said...

Hi
excellent subject matter, so many memories linked to train travel, could probably write a book, but started with this:
http://crazyfieldmouse.wordpress.com/2010/03/08/meeting-at-the-station/

now going to read all the others
thanks
crazy field mouse

Poetikat said...

I've got my train running now.

I loved your poem, Peadar—specially this: "Trains to Aberystwyth always leave
They never arrive"

(I may have another one in me. We'll see.)

Kat

NanU said...

Gotcha with another one. With pics!

Domestic Oub said...

http://domesticoubliette.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-train.html

Hoping on at the last minute without a ticket - hope the inspector doesn't catch me.

The Josie Baggley Company said...

those lollipop ladies are magical creatures and their lollipops are time warping instruments.When they have their yearly get together at the annual Lolloipop Lady Convention the world goes feckin'ape -(gin you see)they cause major time shift chaos- all their lollipops get mixed up. This is the real reason behind the world crash you know.yes.. I know this because the icecream man told me all about it on a train to Slane-insane!

Terresa said...

**Warning: This poem is sprinting after the train, hoping to catch the caboose.**

PS: My motto is: I am most often late but at least usually have a good reason for it.

And my poem...

http://thechocolatechipwaffle.blogspot.com/2010/03/poem-i-fear-one-day.html