Sunday, December 12, 2010

TITUS the Dog's AT THe Wheel of Poetry



God Woman.

They weren’t fish from the sea
Any more than blue bears were
Black silhouettes of herself
God Woman mother of all
Making progress reach for the skies
Evolution not revolution,
parity stars, lights trouble
uncalled for. We all have a monkey
on our backs ,crystal clear,
blue is black in light relief.
I love the city, I hate the reality,
rapid fire irritation jarring.
We knew it was wrong,
Alchemy, conjuring.
Sing, sing ,sing,
reaction in the nightime:
Hearts on fire;
Blazing light;
Break my heart
Like an egg, like the question,
cracked into the heat.
We who could do anything choose
To do this, or this, or this?

I know the answer
If it's a poem, it has a million
beginnings a million chances,
I’m just dreading the end.





This is a control poem

This is the benchmark

The vice of neutral

The control experiment

The yardstick

By which

Others will be measured

This is the voice of reason

That’s reasonable, isn’t it?

Hardly treason

Hardly a revolution

This is the sensible shoe

Well heeled

The waxed barbour jacket of authority

This is a golden Labrador

The Sunday times

A bay windowed Victorian semi

Lint removed from its suit

Neatly pressed shirt

For the office on Monday

It won’t let anyone into the traffic queue

But it wouldn’t cut anyone up either

Unless they deserved it

Middle of the road

Suburban grey poem

Black and white

Is for rebels

And losers.



13 comments:

Jeanne Iris said...

"God Woman" has such passion and possibility.
The control poem leaves me thinking about a black and white movie with loquacious actors.

Niamh B said...

You're well on form this weather, like the ending of the first one particularly - and how you turned middle of the road into a place for rebels in the second.
Nice reads!

Heather said...

Great stuff Peadar - I love the Control poem and fear I might fall into the urban grey sector, even though I'd love to live in more rural surroundings. Perhaps there's a rebel in us all, deep down.

the watercats said...

man! I've missed a whole LOAD of excellent things round here, you're on FINE poetry form lately. I'm loving God woman, and the control poem is feckin great too. I wish I could formulate better words to say! I need more tea and some proper bread.... :-)

Helen said...

Point ~ counterpoint! I love these. You managed to incorporate the many images in that video - beautifully!!!!

(I smile every time I read the title of your blog)

Jinksy said...

God Woman mother of all
Making progress reach for the skies
Evolution not revolution,

Sounds like a good slogan to me...

The Bug said...

Dreading the end - I hope I'm not still here when (if?) the worst happens to our world!

izzy said...

" God Woman" is colors, shapes,
places, sounds- especially the last 12 lines- thanks!

Erratic Thoughts said...

Loved both the poems...
"I know the answer
If it's a poem, it has a million
beginnings a million chances,
I’m just dreading the end." liked those closing lines...my sentiments exactly...

Titus said...

Gracious, Niamh's right, the cold must suit you big time.
God Woman is an incredible response, I particularly liked this section;

Evolution not revolution,
parity stars, lights trouble
uncalled for. We all have a monkey
on our backs, crystal clear,
blue is black in light relief.

And the second works so well, and love the summation of the last five lines. Mighty work, TFE.

Enchanted Oak said...

Since I wrote my piece about the same prompt, I saw yours unfold, had a vision of you madly scribbling, and that was fun! When I came to this part, you got me in the heart:
"Break my heart
Like an egg, like the question,
cracked into the heat.
We who could do anything choose
To do this, or this, or this?"

And the "Control Poem" is devastating. Wow.

Dominic Rivron said...

The first reminded me that Christy Moore did a song of the same name. "This is the voice of reason/hardly treason" - there's a song there! Shades of Robert Wyatt.

Dave King said...

God Woman is full of intimations, possibilities and suggestions. It almost invites alternatives and alternative poems. It is exactly what I think a good poem should be.

The Control poem seemed to me to be mechanistic. No doubt that wa intended.

A good contrast.