Make a fuss, IT'S THE POETRY BUS MAG

'Butane Boy' by Colm Keegan.

(The magnificent FREE pull-out print inside every copy of issue one of The Poetry Bus Magazine)
And there are more equally wonderful illustrations by Susan Sanford, Ron Batteson, Scalder.

Poems by professors, grandmothers, scientists,students, atheists, christians, blacks, whites,prisoners, free people, men, women, everyone and anyone is welcome to enter this bus.Ticket price: a great poem.

The eagle has landed!!
First exclusive pictures of the poetry magazine they call 'Bus' A beast rarer, more magical, more beautiful, than the offspring of a phoenix mated to a unicorn. These are proof copies,for proof reading ,and also as physical proof of something wonderful to all the funding bodies that rejected us, who more or less said it wouldn't be done, or would be done very, very badly. Look up my HOLE, philistines, doubting, uncaring, un-enlightened, Thomases, you wouldn't know art or creativity if it bit you on your scabby subsidised arse.

And all praise, all thanks, to each and every one of you poets and artists out there, that DID believe, who donated their precious time, their precious works and words of art, freely(in every sense of the word!) and willingly.

Some people even donated money, a vote of hope of faith, and I can't thank them enough, for without them this magazine would not be.They saw rainbows, they saw bright light, where those holding puppet strings chose to only see failure and darkness. More fool them.
Believers lights shine in this dark world, and they (believe me) shine in this little magazine, by fuck they do!It is a gem.And that is no idle boast,and it's all thanks to the brilliance of the people involved, it is all your work on show, and it shines, IT SHINES!! Give yourselves a pat on the back and have a drink on me.

Thanks too to my long suffering wife Collette, who helped with hints and fair criticism, but mainly with unfailing patience and love.It's not easy living with a drunken arsehole, but she does it very well.

This is OTT, this is like an Oscar speech, but I don't give a feck,if you've been battered down all your life then suddenly given a golden trumpet by poets and artists and good people, ,you'd be a crass fool not to blow it.

And seriously if you can buy this mag then buy it.You won't get a better read for €5 anywhere in the world. If enough copiesof this first issue are sold I won't have to go cap in hand on my knees to the bursary givers to fund the second issue.Believe me I will if I have to, but I'd love to be afforded the dignity to tell them to shove it.

Proof copy will be returned to printers tomorrow with instructions to do the first print run.Magazines should be available to buy on Monday.Please do.

TWO BUSES BEAT AS ONE

Well peeps of the planet Earth, the virtual weekly poetry bus is a flying HERE
(Flying Fox?)

And issue one of the real physical Poetry Bus Magazine has, wait for it, GONE TO THE PRINTERS!!! I can hardly believe it myself, but you can only stand over the pot for so long, sooner or later ya gotta pee.
Financially it's all a tight-rope high-wire balancing act now, so if you have folding MONEY burning a hole in your pocket,or, if you have coins down the back of the sofa, please throw them into the pot (not the piss pot) POETRY BUS HONEY POT HERE
via the PayPal donate button.

Your rewards will be manifold and magnificent!

Wrote this between panic attacks, needs work! I've been far too light hearted of late, tis time I got back to my modus operandi of misery, apologos!

Hugh, Pugh, Barley MacGrew,

everything was new,

glorious in colourful non sense.

'Weed, little weed'

Bill and Ben

and then The Zen

Zebedee with those awful

Concluding words twisting fear

Papa Gigio,Bleep and Booster,

Scooby Dooby Doo!

Fine toned anthem for

Marine Boy, and I was always too late

to see George Best Soccer skills

No matter how hard I ran from school

just the solar plexus punch

Of the final credits every time.

Typhoo cards would have to do for me

Dougal in paleblue plastic from the cornflakes

and Bubble gum football heroes

Free from scandal free from vice

Everything is sweet clean and nice

Wndy Miller drunk as a skunk

on cider and windmill dreams

And Mrs Honeyman gossip supreme

Just an idle peddlar of themes

Nobody hung at the end of her

nosey noosey tongue.

The Playschool poetry Bus

The poetry Bus rumbles and rambles on, I can't keep up with the fecking thing, which is excellent, shows it's working and a movin and a shakin.Must get round to ladst weeks passengers but in the meantime here's next Monday's task set nice and early to give us time to chew by ex DJ, journalist, and current top poet, Rachel Fox HERE

Many thanks to both DFTP for setting last weeks challenge and also to Argent for hosting.The Poetry Bus is a co-operation bus. For any bus spotters out there this weeks bus is a 42 A.

Get poeting peeps!

DFTP'S / Argent's Poetry Wedding Coach!

The Wedding Song


If you like Pina Colada
and getting caught in the rain,
if you're not into yoga,
if you piss in the drain,

if you wear ladies clothes at midnite,
or dress up in a cape,
then Dublin's the place your looking for,
go right there to escape.

I was hidin' in a lay-by
Iknow that sounds kind of weird,
but you'd do the just same
if your girlfriend grew a beard

Then I realised I was in denial
about my girfriends hairy face
it was the thing that I longed for
that I'd been a disgrace

I was using her wardrobe
but she never knew
all the things that I bought her
I was wearing them too

I wanted to tell her my secret
and not be ashamed
it was me that was wrong
not her beard should be blamed

But her feelings had been hurt now
and I'd left it too late
to tell her I loved her
and that I'd like us to mate

I'd have to find someone new
fall in love and be glad
that being a transvestite
wasn't really all that bad

So I wrote to the paper
took out a personal add
said that I was broken hearted
and feelin really sad

I said I loved drinking poteen
and bog snorkelling in June
I liked eating out at Supermacs
and popping my boils with a spoon


I'm a bit of a cross dresser
and now I like hairy women
that I'm into licking toadstools
and going late night nudey swimmin

I've got a massey Ferguson tractor
tied with twine and red tape
I'll meet you on the bog road
and we'll plan our escape.

I only got one letter
but she seemed really nice
said I'd meet her at the chinese
for wine chicken and rice

So I waited in my high heels
satin knickers trimmed with lace
and I couldnt believe it
when I saw the beard on her face

It was my old manly girlfriend
and she said 'Oh feck it's you'
then we cried for a moment
and she said I never knew

that you like being a woman
coz I like being a man
so why don't we get married
just as fast as we can

We could be in Dublin by midnite
and in the morning tie the knot
your the lady-man I'm looking for
and I think you're really hot

So we travelled by tractor
on that balmy starry night
with her full length beard
she was a lovely sight

That next bright summer's morning
the wedding was a hoot
I looked nice in her white dress
and she looked cool in my suit.

20 years have gone by now
and our love was not in vain
if we had our lives to live over
we'd do it all just the same

we've had our share of good memories
happy days and of tears
but Still we kiss and we cuddle
after all these long years


So if you like Pina Colada
and getting caught in the rain,
if you're not into yoga,
if you piss in the drain,

if you wear rubber gloves at midnite,
and like dressing up in a cape,
then follow our example,
plan your dreams and escape.

ARGENT TO THE RESCUE

S.I.G and F.A.B captain it's the poetry bus, eager for travel, fettled by Don't Feed The Pixies (hope he is ok) and driven by ace sidekick Argentina. HERE

So go fer it, get writing.Thanks to all who join in and all who drive.If you've offered to drive and I've missed you out, please forgive me and let me know my terrible oversight.New drivers/old drivers always welcome, keep this bus rolling, keep the world turning in the right direction, maybe it can't be changed, but that shouldn't stop us tryin! Think global act local, get on the bus, reach out a hand,say the kind word, put the kettle on, smile at a stranger, give people hope, a second chance, a third one , a fourth one, don't give up, never give up.And if someone really is out of order, out of line, acting the maggot,jumping the queue, putting people down, spreading dis-ease, laughing at the different, mocking the afflicted, by all means forgive him,( to err is human to forgive is divine) turn the other cheek , but be sure and kick the fucker hard in the nuts first. Here endeth the first lesson.

Stuff and ting a ling a bus time!

Ok. Slippers lit, pipe on, wife out (mousing), cat cooking (dinner).

Don't feed the Pixies has left the building.We know not why.Maybe he fed the Pixies. But we wish you well DFTP, hope that all is ok and that you will be back to us soon in some form or other. You will be missed and thanks not only for driving the bus this week but for the previous time and for all your journey and songs as passenger. Good luck comrade, a bientot!
Here is DFTP's message and this weeks poetry bus challenge in full.

'Hi there regular readers

I’m really sorry to have to tell you that due to circumstances beyond my control Don’t Feed The Pixies has had to be deleted and will probably be gone by the time you read this.

I had gone to pains to keep my name off the web and had changed the names and places of those involved where speaking about someone or something – but it seems that I have not been careful enough and so to protect myself from any future problems I have had to quit the site.

Thank you for providing light in a tunnel of dullness. I came to the blog world in hope of finding others out there who I might have something in common with, or were just other lost souls looking for new ideas and new thoughts – I have enjoyed meeting you all.

I am not sure whether this blog will continue in any other form. Thank you for visiting

n addition to the above - my challenge for the poetry bus is to ask everyone to write a pome that can be read at a wedding - it mustn't mention god or be religious at all because that's not allowed unless you have a church wedding

Up to you if you host this yourself or ask argent on my behalf xx'

Elsewhere in the madtroplolis the REAL POETRY BUS MAG is
almost upon us.I'm saying no more as I keep saying 'it's nearly here'I'm just getting on with it.

And then also another thing is THE GREAT PRIZE DRAW for The Shed Poets book.Phil Mitchell came round and was filmed doing the draw but then he turned nasty when we explained that we had plenty of craic here but no crack.So he grabbed a bottle of poteen and drank it while setting fire to cooks eyebrows (they are incredibly bushy, the gardener maintains them with the hedge shears)and destroying the tape. So no video evidence but the winner was Uiscebot. So well done to him, the book will wing it's way to him when I get a few euro out of rain abandoned trolleys in the Tesco car park.

So there you have it world. Get writing poems and stay on the rght side of the road unless you're supposed to be on the left side of the road which really is the right side not the wrong side which is whatever side you're not supposed to be depending on which side is the legal side for driving on your planet.Remember folks, the right side is the bright side unless it's raining in which case none of the caterpillars will be butterflies , elephants or Harley Davidson Electra Glide transmission sprockets..


Go now, flitter hither thither and yon, hence ye fecked off out of it, verilly merrily through valley,glade and glen, with gossamer nets in hand, galoshes on foot and (goody! goody!) gumdrops in gob, searching for the last poems of summer.Search buddleia, buttercup and building site, under leaf , rock,arse crack, stone and JCB.For the darkness is but an indifferent mile away, yet I prithee, do not fear for the dark,nope, I beseech you, Nay, nay, and thrice neigh!Rage , rage, ye not against the misunderstood black of night,forsooth indeed,no my friends, tis not the dark that destroyeth the soul, but the dying of the light.

So come on ,let's fughin SHINE!!

Not really back yet

Although technically back, I'm not officially back yet till @5pm. Put the cat on.

No dinner thanks

I'll get a sandwich in the pub.

Nearly back

Hob nobs please watercats and about5pm Nib.
Laters.

BACK LATER

I'll be back later. Put the kettle on.

OOPS!

Forgot to to do do the the prize rize draw for the shed poets book with beautiful cover photo done by TFE.So get in while you can.Only 3 or 4 namesinthehat so gives ye a good chance.

But as a special treat Phil Mitchell from Eastenders has kindly agreed to do the draw sometime tomorrs.

Piplyatoodles innit?

IN SUPERMARIONATION THE POETRY BUS!!!!

Sunshine and lollipops

Colour me in

Give me a hand

I’m feelin

A bit washed out

tasting a bit bland

See through blue

Forget black I’ll leave that in the darkness

the progressive revisionist palette of

me myself and I

all singing dancing typing

I’m looking for sunshine and lollipops

The funny ha ha

Walking on the bright side

Of Fir Street

Run till you drop

Blood red

Anarchy panicky routes rhythm

Broken people load words

Closed eyes blind thought

Where blue skies are black

Summer sun attack

Burn us everyone

Come come nuclear dumb

Plaudit pundits the

Fruits of their obscurity

growing on every middle class

middle road

Poetree

Spectacles for testicles

Peering out living on the hedge

Choose our lies wisely

Don’t paint it black,

Don’t paint at all.

AUCTION RESULT

Welll done Titus, you have the winning bid! I don't really want to take any money, so how about a swap.I'd love a copy of your beautiful new book Venti, the one with the pattern that looks a bit like twigs.Whadya say?

3 or 4 names in the hat for the Shed Poets book with cover photography by meself, so if you want to win put your name in! I'll do the draw at midnight on Saturday.

Elsewhere in the world there's a colourful prompt from Marion on the poetry bus. I'm looking forward to having a go over the weekend.The link to her blog is HERE

Today is also suicide prevention day. 527 people in The Republic of Ireland died by suicide last year, almost a quarter more than the previous year.That's a worrying trend, particularly among the young and most shockingly of all ,even children.

I guess depression may be a factor and I suppose early contact with a GP might help. Money (or lack of it) may also also a factor (apparently one in ten calls to The Samaritans is now recession related)

It amazes me for instance that Irish banks are bailed out with billions of tax payers money, yet should a tax payer lose their job and be unable to make the mortgage repayments for a while, they will have their home reposessed.

It's also sad, but somehow unsurprising, how many creative people take their own lives.

What caught my attention most is that today is marked as suicide 'prevention' day.The charity 3T's (turning the tide of suicide) would suggest that things can be done to make people aware of help that might be life-saving. I'm not sure how this will work but raising awareness of any issue surely helps towards change.

Thankfully suicide has not affected any members of my family, but it has been on the periphery of my own radar.I've never contemplated suicide, never really come even close, but I recognize fully how it (given any number of factors) could be one of a few paths that would be on the map of a troubled human mind.
A number of candlight vigils have been held around the country organized by 3T's and more are due over the next few days where family, friends and collegues of loved one's lost to suicide are invited to light a candle in their memory.

I'm going to join them in spirit tonight.

ALL PICTURES GOING TO AUCTION

Ok,people, don't forget to enter the free prize draw for the Shed Poets book. (see below)

But why not join in the worldwide ART AUCTION while you're here. Grab yourself a bargain, a future proofed investment steady as a bar of Gold (possibly)

5 yes FIVE unique pieces of TFE's agitated mind in the form of self-portraits are going under the hammer, (No not the sledgehammer) each with a reserve( and P+P charge.)

You can bid on any painting at any time but Titus has got us off to a great start with a bid of €30 on the first pic with the single red hand.

Do I hear €35? Anywhere in the room? You madam, with the beard?

LOADSASTUFF!

MISSING :MAN AND SUPERMAN reward offered (see below)

Firstly....OOshk!The Poetry Bus Mag is lookin livelier than a box of ferrets on benzadrine crystal meths and buckfast.Susan Sanford (ArtSparker) finished off the cover with the newly supplied list of names in two shakes of her magic art wand.

Thirdly, On the other paw and in a mystical mist of unknownness and intrigue WANTED 'Man and Superman' art installation.(see attached photo, somewhere) Missing in action. Man and Superman the award winning (pending) arty thing fashioned by overweight creative svengali figure TFE Phd (pissed hairless dirty) has disappeared whilst on it's round the world blockbuster tour. Any sightings or information leading to the safe return of this priceless piece of shite, will be rewarded in a telepathic fashion.
Secondly...The good news is, this piece of art was insured for a cool 1 million euro! The bad news is we didn't pay the premium.

6) Competition time!

'Strands of silk' is an excellent book of poetry by The Shed Poets http://shedpoetssociety.blogspot.com A group of six women , Bernie Kenny,Maureen Perkins,Rosy Wilson, Carol Boland, Marguerite Colgan,Judy Russell who meet up every week in a terraced gardn overlooking Killiney Bay.(Lucky feckers!)

Not only does this book have good and I mean really good poems in it, it has one of the best covers ever put onto a book, by moi. All for€7.It's beautifully made too. You really should all go







and buy one ,but if like me you are without money then why not enter The TFE Shed poetry competition!?

Alls you have to do is either

A) send me €50.

Or,

F) Leave a comment saying you'd like to be entered into the draw


Finally in order to raise funds I must sell off the Castle D'EEjit's fine art collection. All paintings are poster paint and acylics on canvas board and measure 12" by 16" except one that is 16" by 18". The paintings are open to offers (plus P+P.)

And penultimately, don't forget to BREATHE! Relax, close your eyes, let your horizons expand.And if you're going to do something with yourself, do it today, life is like my legs. Short.


See pics for sale below.Goon ye know yawant one!

FOR SALE !!

LIST OF POETS AND ARTISTS FOR ISSUE NUMERO UNO

WHERE else in the world would you get a magazine like this for €5 ? The contents for the first issue of The Poetry Bus Magazine breaks down as follows.....77 pages, 37 poets,48 poems, 11 illustrations, 2 translations, 1 song, 1 pull-out colour print and one (possibly) life-changing experience in reading it.

Here's the list of contributors.

Chris Alba
Niamh Bagnell
Ronald Batteson (The Watercats)
Carol Boland
Kate Dempsey
Morgan Downie
Emer Fallon
Rachel Fox
Liz Gallagher
Rody Gorman
Peter Goulding
Jack Hayes
Vicky Ind (The Watercats)
Fred Johnston
Colm Keegan
Tess Kincaid
Jeanne I. Lakatos
Joyce Little
Aoife Mannix
Heather Martin
JoAnne McKay
Kat Mortensen
Jane Moss
Nuala Ni Chonchuir
Padhraig Nolan/Scalder
Karen Nowviskie
Maggie O'Dwyer
Dominic Rivron
Susan Sanford
Evie Shockley
Barbara Smith
Stephen James Smith
George Szirtes
Pat Thistlethwaite
Mags Treanor
Nancy Uhrhammer
Hilary Wakeman
John Wakeman
Tríona Walsh
Terresa Wellborn
Saint James Harris Wood
Zachary Monroe Costello Wood



Soon, soon, soon coming like real soon to a planet near you ! Look to the skies!

(Poetry Government health warning, 'Be aware, The Poetry Bus Magazine can be dangerously addictive') Do not read The Bus and operate machinery at the same time, poems may go up and down as well as across the page. Poetry Bus Magazine is a licensed susidiary of TFE global enterprises. Your home may be lost if you can no longer find it.

Poem for The Poetry Bus

Alison.

One track played top down

Renault Fuego

Last chrysalis century

sang the song of

Lies through broken teeth

PraySatellite sisters pray

Play make-believe bombed out brothers

The future is here

Tomorrow was our lucky day

where’s your lucky day

Twisting from the wreckage not knowing where to go

Unsure of where to be

Where we could fit in this piece time

All crying for an epic matinee

A final solid

Transforming skies to freefall

Silk parachutes

Red green blue sailed boats

Those clipped town horizons slate grey

Sunday rain

daddy long legs danced

pebble-dashed hope till death

hung it’s cloak on your frail shoulders

With concrete reality

Well here’s your lucky day

Pissed on the stairwell

madness could break you,

into you, china doll

Helicopter ride

Burning barrels barter a silence

That won’t descend

Surrender no option

These could be days or years

A veil of tears explode in doubt

Seconds rent life from time

Reality’s corners lit

To and fro corner to bar to..

That can’t be bought back

So cheaply sold the bullet

The best of you blown away

Like dust from a butterfly’s wing

This looks interesting, have a go!

Talented poet Swiss has got a good thing going over on his new blog. The poet Edwin Morgan died recently, I'd never really heard of him beyond a competition in his name but he seemed to be much loved and now missed. Particularly in his native Scotland.Many bloggers knew his work and posted tributes.

Swiss has the good idea of compiling an ebook of poems as a memorial and is looking for submissions. Don't worry if (like me) you don't know much about Edwin, even a response to one of his poems would be suitable. I think I'll have a go.
Weaver, unless I'm mistaken (that happens a lot) mentioned /recommended some of his stuff, so Ill go and have a look, or just google him.
Anyways get the full details.... here..


http://swissloungeproductions.wordpress.com/slp0002-the-edwin-morgan-memorial/

Ps Just checked Weaver's blog and she likes 'Heron' and 'Strawberries' Edwin Morgan poems that is, not lunch.
I'm gona google 'em now and see if I like them or not and if they trigger a response.Onwards!

BUS poetry BUS poetry BUS poetry

Pure fiction is driving this week HERE

Many thanks to Karen for driving last week, I think we got the most poems ever! So many thanks to Karen and to everyone for having a go, why not get on board again this week? Your seat is waiting ,PF has the bus spick and span and she has set a very interesting task that should produce some fine poems methinks.

Pure Fiction is an ex oil rig firefighter , country and western singer , bonsai tree specialist, and reformed jewel thief. Currently she runs a high class boutique specialising in corsetry and donkey saddles. A fine athlete she holds the Irish record for the 5 metre dash and was pilot for the two woman and a wardrobe Olympic bobsleigh team.

Get ye away to her fine blogland now, marvel at her miniature pumpkin, and get writing the finest poetry ye have ever written!! A bus is waiting! It's all the fun of the fair for free and without leaving your armchair!Rejoice and be glad that we have 2 legs and all our fingers!