Twasn't the best of prompts,I'll give ye that. A toughie it turned out to be,what the feck was I thinking, in me Irish blog olympics week an all?
I get most of my best lines on the cusp of sleep lying in bed (or on the floor) , sometimes maybe even the gist of a short story and I always think Janey Mac, that's brilliant , I'll bish-bash-bosh that out in the morning, fame and fortune will be mine.Then morning comes (or afternoon ) invariably by which time, of course , it has evaporated into the ether like the steam off a cow's moonlit piss .
But this one 'She was wearing Stella MaCartney,I was drinking Stella Artois' lasted the night.Probably because it was really rubbish.I say rubbish but the other one that stuck was 'I've got an itch in me throat, I've had a scratch of me scrote' -So count yourselves lucky.
Poems are like children, you raise them but then ya gotta let them go. They're your's to have, but not to keep.They have lives of their own.If people love them don't get too big headed and if people hate them , don't take it too hard, they are your's but they are not YOU.
I got two comments of polar opposites on my poem this week, one I loved that told me exactly what I was hoping, the other precisely what I didn't want to hear.But which was correct, either? Neither/ Both? Who knows?
Ya gotta just do your own thing, sing your own song. If you like it ,then stick with it. Be the judge. Sometimes you've gotta keep singing the same song till people like it, other times you've really gotta find a new one, but knowing which to do might take a lifetime to find out.There's the rub, and there's the fun.
You can't control what people read into them either.Ted Hughes said that poets build houses, but it's up to people how they live in them.That said , I have to point out (Kat!) that there were no wives battered in the course of me pome and Mrs EEjit as is, and Miss EEjit as was , is not, and never will be (prosibly)* a punchbag in real life either!
Even a prompt has a life of it's own I really didn't see the slapstick coming.But variety, the spice of life, that's one of the reasons I love The Bus.I can't wait each week to see where we are going! There was multicoloured threads of humour and there was doggerel, there was mad and crazy rhyme, but there was other stuff woven as well, ecclectic hardly does it justice.But mucho thanks to everyone that took the time and talent to join in with a poem or a comment.
Happy St Patrick's Day to all.
Ps. St Patrick if you're up there/out there/ in Aldi, come back, we need you, you left the worst snakes behind, the bishops, the politicians, the bankers, the lawyers..........
I get most of my best lines on the cusp of sleep lying in bed (or on the floor) , sometimes maybe even the gist of a short story and I always think Janey Mac, that's brilliant , I'll bish-bash-bosh that out in the morning, fame and fortune will be mine.Then morning comes (or afternoon ) invariably by which time, of course , it has evaporated into the ether like the steam off a cow's moonlit piss .
But this one 'She was wearing Stella MaCartney,I was drinking Stella Artois' lasted the night.Probably because it was really rubbish.I say rubbish but the other one that stuck was 'I've got an itch in me throat, I've had a scratch of me scrote' -So count yourselves lucky.
Poems are like children, you raise them but then ya gotta let them go. They're your's to have, but not to keep.They have lives of their own.If people love them don't get too big headed and if people hate them , don't take it too hard, they are your's but they are not YOU.
I got two comments of polar opposites on my poem this week, one I loved that told me exactly what I was hoping, the other precisely what I didn't want to hear.But which was correct, either? Neither/ Both? Who knows?
Ya gotta just do your own thing, sing your own song. If you like it ,then stick with it. Be the judge. Sometimes you've gotta keep singing the same song till people like it, other times you've really gotta find a new one, but knowing which to do might take a lifetime to find out.There's the rub, and there's the fun.
You can't control what people read into them either.Ted Hughes said that poets build houses, but it's up to people how they live in them.That said , I have to point out (Kat!) that there were no wives battered in the course of me pome and Mrs EEjit as is, and Miss EEjit as was , is not, and never will be (prosibly)* a punchbag in real life either!
Even a prompt has a life of it's own I really didn't see the slapstick coming.But variety, the spice of life, that's one of the reasons I love The Bus.I can't wait each week to see where we are going! There was multicoloured threads of humour and there was doggerel, there was mad and crazy rhyme, but there was other stuff woven as well, ecclectic hardly does it justice.But mucho thanks to everyone that took the time and talent to join in with a poem or a comment.
Happy St Patrick's Day to all.
Ps. St Patrick if you're up there/out there/ in Aldi, come back, we need you, you left the worst snakes behind, the bishops, the politicians, the bankers, the lawyers..........
* 'Prosibly' A word I invented to cover the space between 'possibly' and 'probably', but slightly closer to the latter.
27 comments:
Enjoy St. Patricks Day.
I hope to hop on the bus next week.
I nodded my way through reading this post.
I liked the bit about poems being like children, letting 'em go and realizing they're not ours to have in the first place. Is that your brilliant mind, TFE, or are you quoting someone else with that? Either way, it's inspirational.
Also, that there can be so many different readings of a poem and no matter what it may be, to learn to handle it. Yup!
Oh I like prosibly.
x
Happy St Patrick's Day.
Even though you are a rampant stickist.
I was amazed by what the Stella lines prompted - some really diverse pieces. I think it was one of my favourite bus tours so far.
Equality for all six-legged creatures! (And love).
Happy saint Patrick's Day, TFE.
It's good that St Pat kept the snakes out of Ireland, at least that's what we were taught at school in downtown Melbourne Australia many years ago.
prosibly the toughest prompt yet - glad you didn't go for option B tho
Peadar! I never said I thought it was autobiographical; I assumed you were writing about fictitious characters. Honest.
I am taking "prosibly" under my wings from now on. (Whatever that means.)
It was a grand prompt and my immediate reaction was to the Stella McCartney clothes image. It just went from there. Loved every minute of it and really enjoyed visiting and reading everybody elses.
Stop by and see if you all can give me a hand, would ya?
Happy St Patrick's to ya!
Kat
poems do indeed take on life... funnily enough, I get quite attached to my songs though. Poems I could throw about me to anyone... but songs... they're allll mine... *cue gollum faces.
that bob dylan bloke said somethign about some people and time and pleasing them... that's true... i think :-D
and excellent picture, happy paddies!.. ah didlle iddleee dileee iddleee. ah di.. etc etc..
And happy St. Patrick's Day to you, as well! :D
I thought it was a great ride on the bus this week. I think the very rhythmic structure of the 2 lines sent a lot of us off to silly-land, but you have to have a laugh now and then.
Top of the evening to you TFE and a Happy Saint Patricks Day - hope it's been a good one. I'm just back from the pub after celebrating with a drink and a meal as it's my birthday. Does that make me an honorary Irishwoman? It's taken me all day to try and post this comment as the laptop is on the blink and I've had lots of visitors today. Love your post - it made me laugh.
Thought of you yesterday as I ate a St Patrick's Day lunch out with a friend. Toasted you with elderflower presse (no rude comments please!)- you are my one port of call this morning on my allocated 5 minute computer slot (keeping off it because of my back trouble). What is this week's bus subject - thinking about it keeps me going through the frustration of not being able to blog.
Interesting that you have your best thoughts lying down - me too - I should keep a notepad by the bed because they have usually flown off by morning.
Desperately looking for inspiration so get that bus subject mooted - will give me something to think about rather than feeling sorry for myself!
But what about the splice of life?
Hopon Ann!
Terressa tis nuttin but my genie arse.Tankxzs!
Best word not in the dictionary Foxo!
Titus. Squish.
Tanks Elisabeth, St Paddy missed a few, Doh!
Option B next week NIvby!
Thanksxz Kat, only men battered in that poem, and some fish.
Songs are the biz Uiscekats, I'd love to be able to write one and singit/play it.
Backatcha SusanS
Argent, silly land is my kind of land.
Happy Birhday Heather, yes, that deffo makes you one of ours!
I'm honoured Weaver!
The splice of life sparkey? I likes it!
Don't need to discuss much...Just drop off the key EE(jit) and set yourself free !!!
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