This weeks cutlery drawer is driven by the rather talented, soon to be seen on 'Later' with Jools Holland, singing ensemble, the fabuloso 'Watercats'.They hit us not with a rythm stick but with the fantastico theme from the moniker of the late Mr Dury's song 'Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll'.
A reaction to this was not only to be writed but also recordified! Rimmmskyyyykorsikov!
The writification of the verbals took less than 5 mins, the recordo took about half an earth hour, but the uploadifiying to vidleotube took FOREVER!
While I waited, I wrote a 600 page novel and carved an impressive impression of the dangling gardeniums of Babylonia out of my back teeth which had fallen out from sheer boredom.
Ivory is banned but EEjit teeth are legit so this sculptural beauty is for sale at a reasonable €2000 and can be shipped (at no additional cost) to anywhere in the world, except Carlow.
(An embargo on the transportation of human teeth, not attached to a living head, has been in place there since the great Gold Tooth Rush of '64.)
For other bus poets clicky ye HERE
(Black gloves, white frost,black crepe, white lead,
white sheet, black knight, jet black, dead white)
From Sweet Gene Vincent by Ian Dury.
Wasted.
Too far gone for sex and drugs or rock and roll
I’m over Beethoven, I’m the last of the Mohicans
The dynasty of the dinosaur
Too old to live too young to die
I’m stuck in the middle without you
Medicated mendicant fucked up philanderer
Dead beat downbeat pretender
I thought I could have been a contender
See the spark snuffed out drowned
Clown about town
Arrogance of youth to waste
Oiling the wheels of commotion
Volcanos of emotion
Pool hall cannonball
Jack the Hat, dragon-chased
God didn’t bless you Dark Donegal
Nor Nenagh from the phone box
In Borrisokane, to the world of
Dominion, Roxy, Roundhouse ,
Hammersmith Odeon, Spread Eagle, Stretford.End.
Scarred up lines of jacked-up escape
Painting the town with blood
Red revolution deep down knowing no better
Despite it all, some nights I never go to sleep
And it all amounted to a heavenly despair
Graveyard ticket one way tripped out
Wonder. Wasted. Only, if only, my bones were broken
But worst of all, there’s still you,
and you are the one that’s gone.
42 comments:
That's sad. Love your voice, tho' love the mixture of accents :)
this'd be my third attempt to comment on this - I loved the poem, very touching and felt honest. Well read too, and I like the bottom left hand bobble that kept mischieviously finding it's way into the shot.
Yowzah! Sharp and sad, I just love the end-over-end tumble of the words here (this is a real strength or yours, Eej)
well, I'm so chuffed to be vaguely responsible for the poems this week (how big a head do I have?), lol!.. there are some seriously awesome things appearing. This is just so.. sooo awesome! can literally feel the guts in your voice reading this.. genuinely moved..
Thanks for giving us the chance to drive, it's a ball :-D
very moving, so much more powerful heard than read, your voice is lovely, such regret and sadness in the poem, love all the references
It's a melancholy piece, TFE, and more so with you reading it.
Nice to hear it read aloud,
washed away like dead dreams in the rain...
Argent said it: the way the words and ideas tumble out is just great to read and listen to.
Too old to live too young to die... Reminds me of something someone said about the human condition (who I don't know): they reckoned we didn't know what to do with ourselves because we live too long after reproducing. (Not that I'm complaining - I'd rather live, trying to work out what to do!)
You read really well. Do it more.
x
Wow! I bow before this one! The poem and the reading are both awesome! I love the accumulation of images and the internal rhymes that make it so rhythmic. Great read!
Haven't joined the bus today - but lovely to hear your husky Irish brogue!!
Yeah - loved this, it almost had a feeling of John Cooper Clark the Punk Poet, only with less swearing and more to say.
Jooling forward to my turn in june
What strikes me, Peadar, is that despite the seeming harshness of the poem, the delivery is so soft-spoken and restrained. It was a joy to listen to you. (I would love to have an accent.)
Your words arouse images in my brain that are a bit misty and yet somewhat mystical, but no matter what you write, I think the shanachie-heritage you hold is bound to shine through.
Excellent!
Kat
Great reading, tfe - Really liked the poem too - for all the regret you've captured, the words are still bursting with energy and life.
Nice one.
Oh, TFE! This is just brilliant, my friend! Your lines are so powerful... and what a lovely accent you have!
One day, I'll be able to actually post my audio, too. Then, y'all can hear my Midwest- Southern-New England accent.
: )
Thanks B, I thought I had accents only a mother could love. Mind you ,you are a mother.
Nivby, the left hand bobble was the hardest bit, i jus made it look easy.
It could be my only strength Argo,But I thanks ye fer noticin!
Tis a good feelin n'est ce pas Uiscekateens.? Great prompt!
Thanks Aqua Marina, I hate my voice so that's nice of you to say.
Thank you Enchanted Oak, drink helped, or was it hindered?
Sparko...torn up ticket stubs of a hundred thousand mugs... And I didn't even have to look it up!
You might be right Dominic. What is that spider that eats it's mate after jiggy-jiggy? And the French call orgasm la petit mort. Perhaps it should be le grand mort , and be done with it.Though I would have died at my own hands far too early. Boom boom!
Tanks Rachel, maybe I will , sure feck it!
Thanks Karen, When you reading YOURS!
Husky Irish brogue! I likes that Weavo, you flatterer!
Thanks DFTP , JCC is/was a hero of mine.Looking forward to your driving!
Poetikat you have an accent, a lovely accent.Mine is a quagmire of influences/ locations/ tis the jack of all tongues bt the master of none.
Thanks PF, and where were you, pray tell?
Jeanne,Get working on that audio , Prof!
Sad poignant poem of loss. Very touching.
And I thought I was the last of the Mohicans! Thanks for your nice comment on my piece today, Eej. I started up Magpie when I thought the Bus was gone for good, then it miraculously revived! I thought I could do both, and still will jump in when I can. I noticed some are dovetailing the two, which is fabulous!
Loved this TFE, especially read. In fact, the reading was awesome - poignant, no, stronger than that, actually tragic. Beautifully done.
Jack the Hat! Oh, weren't they the days. I've drunk in the Blind Beggar.
Sad indeed, but well presented. Good to here the voice! I've made a stab at this too, over at mine.
That's one mighty poem, love the half rhymes and relentless rhythm of it. More Patti Smith than John Cooper Clark, I'd say.
I remember the Roxy and the Roundhouse, and the 100 Club too - a real walk down Nostalgia Boulevard!
This is seriously good - great half rhymes and rhythm. More Patti Smith than JCC I'd suggest.
I'm a bit spooked by your accent. I have a very mongrel accent too and I'm beginning to think we may be each other in different dimensions, like in an episode of Doctor Who. Remember the Roxy and the Roundhouse, though we'd mostly go to the 100 Club on Wardour Street.
Thank you Ann.
Thanks Willow, you're welcome on the bus anytime, we've saved a seat specially!
Thanks Titus, encouraging indeed. Never drank in the Black Beggar but did go looking for it. Nice?
Thanks Padhraig.
Patti Smith Cool thankls Peter.Looking forward to hearing some of yours sometime. Was never in the 100 club, wish I had been. (There's an A bomb in Wardour street!)
POETRY BUS PROMPT FOR MONDAY 10TH MAY NOW ONLINE AT: http://pjnolan.blogspot.com/2010/05/poetry-bus-all-aboard.html
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