Tuesday, April 20, 2010
POETRY BUS POTTERY BUST PURPLEY DUST
Poetry changes nothing? Or. Poetry? Nothing changes! Something must come from something. Nothing comes from nothing. Let us do something at least. The world is rotten the world is a beautiful fruit, we can at least choose to care or rage or make mistakes. Fail then fail better.
Well done PF for setting such an intriguing task and thanks too to the stout warriors of poetry that stood against them (words) and sent them heaven-ward to think again.You is all magnifico, be tall be proud be strong if a little flatulent but above all BE A BUS POET. You know it makes sense, even though it's nonsensical.
We will not try to change the world,not one hair on it's head, we would not be so presumptious, but we will travel the world and sing our song of hope or despair in an effort to change ourselves.
Many thank-yous too, PF, for the trip and the lovely buisciteens.She (PF) , her job dutifuly, beautifully done, hands over th magic starting handle to 'Don't cry for me, Argentino' Who not only writes but sings too! Will this effect /influence the task ahead? Only time will william tell. Her blog is rather magnificently called 'Delusions of Adequacy' one of the few delusions not to have infiltrated my deluded existence.See her blog here.. DOA DOA ? Dead on arrival.That could be my next poem. Go for it Arent, the world awaits. (No pressure!)
In other worlds this and that but nothing much and nothing much happpens and no matter how much does actually happen, even when it's loads, nothing ever changes. Does it?
Anybody remember Del Amitri?