Friday, January 14, 2011

Behold, tis the Mighty Poetry Bus!


Beware the ides of March and the tides of turn, in fact it is (apparentlio) my turn to take a turn at drively the world famous, poteen powered pooetry bus, me own bleedin charabungle!
Iam currently thermally, as well as intellectually, challenged, and the main problem ( with only the onset spring as the affordable solution) is that the komputee is in the coldest room in the house.
Did you ever see The Poseidon Adventure where they had to take deep breaths before plunging into the watery stuff to emerge over the other side where they wanted to be? Well that's a bit what it's like going to the komputer- get wrapped up, take a deep breath of heat and head in and do what you can as quick as you can while your fingers and toes are still your own and not blackened and needing amputation.

And so and thus, and this is why I am blog-lite of late and not getting round as much as I should and ting. But anyways many profuse thanklos to Emergely writo what did the prompt last week so typically thoroughly and professionally, and artistically to boot.And also thanks a plenty to all who were good enough to get aboard and I hope I will read all the pomes ADAP or ASAP even.

So the brillo EW hands over the keys to moi, totalofeckloeejly.

TFE is a fig leaf of his own imagination, a three legged racer and demi god of milk jelly. He talks about himself in the third person as the other two are invariably asleep, or in prison. A love child of the 1930's TFE was the first person to walk on the moon without the aid of a pair of idioms. A precocious prodigy he produced a prodigious amount of poo and thanks to his time-travelling cot that he fashioned from rusks, used nappies, and pram wheels, could play Beethovens sixth before the fifth had even been written.
He attributes his nihilistic tendencies to being brought up by a marauding gang of marxist bank robbing beavers who adopted him as their spokesperson after being abandoned by his parents in Roches stores at the tender age of 36.He dreams of dreaming and delays falling asleep by getting up 3 hours before before he goes to bed. His ambition is to have an ambition.


And so to this weeks task. Write a poem. Don't think, just feel. Sit yourself down,stay quiet, find silence, concentrate on your breathing, feel your chest rise and fall, your heart beating, blood pumping.You are alive, so alive.Breathe in and breathe out,count those breaths, slowly look into your heart, your soul, how are you? Who are you? Are you happy/sad/ lost/ found/ confused/ certain.Are you where you hoped to be, do you know yourself? Are you who you were? Who might you yet be. Where might you be? Forget what your brain tells you that you know,and forget what your brain tells you to think, listen to your breath,tell me how you feel and why you feel it. How many breaths have you taken in this life? Think of them, focus on them. How many breaths are still to be taken? Disengage the brain and write from the heart.Close your eyes examine your breath, examine your life and feel!



A cool toon as a reward.Boy George looks like a giant toddler!

20 comments:

Jeanne Iris said...

A wonderfully serene prompt, TFE! Mine is up here:
http://www.revolutionaryrevelry.blogspot.com

Heather said...

I'd like to climb aboard the bus this week - as long as the poteen fumes aren't too strong - but you have set a very tough task. Considering the number of years I have to look back on, you'd think it would be easier for me. I may chicken out, but you'll have plenty of other passengers.

Dave King said...

A brain-smattering prompt - but am I up to it? I shall board thy bus only if I can put myself back together again! Farewell, adieu, my friend and au reservoir. (I shall soak myself in it!)

Jules said...

I'd like a return ticket this week, I bought a single last time and got stuck in Droitwich.
I will be on board later at www.acircleiscast.blogspot.com
Have a great birthday, Pea x

Rachel Fox said...

Wasn't going to play... then I did.

http://crowd-pleasers.blogspot.com/2011/01/look-right-in-tfes-bus-to-depths-of.html

x

Jeanne Iris said...

Happy Birthday, TFE!

I've posted another entry here, too:

http://www.iconicrealism.blogspot.com

Hope you celebrate in style!

chiccoreal said...

Dear Totalfeckineejit: Happy Birthday Luv! Big hugs to you dear!BTW: I'm Going into the zone right now; but if I tend to go semi-comatose to unconscious just kick my chair!I want this to be cosmic unconsciousness happening circa 1960's. Have a happy happening Baby!

Enchanted Oak said...

Oh gosh oh golly, what a tenderhearted prompt, so full of possibility and honesty, and so on. It will be fun, in my current state of affairs, to think of nothing at all but describing something internal rather than externally shitty.

Helen said...

Dug down deep for this one ~

http://woonietest.blogspot.com/2011/01/breathe-in-breathe-out.html

Kat Mortensen said...

Peadar, if I EVER recover from reading that bio (*tears streaming*) I will attempt to give this a go.
I apologize sincerely for falling off the edge of the earth with some of you who write for the poetry bus - I've not been myself lately, but I'm getting back to normal (whatever that is).

I can't use a freezing cold computer room as an excuse; we left that behind in the house we just sold to some other poor sod!

Kat

Titus said...

Gonna try, but that's not something I do a lot. At all, really. Toughie.

ArtSparker said...

I've experimented with putting tin/aluminum foil around the computer to reflect the heat back, heh.

annell said...

I liked this prompt!

annell said...

I forgot to add my link.

http://somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com/

annell said...

I liked the ride on the poetry bus!

http://somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com/

izzy said...

Thanks for the prompt! I wrote what came.
It actually was an experience from a couple of years ago.

http://izzy-conversing.blogspot.com/2011/01/poetry-bus11611.html

Dave King said...

I have bought mesel' a ticket for first bus out the garage tomorrow morn, m'boy!

Karen said...

Raising my hand, "OOh, ooh, me! Here I am! Me! Pick me! (here: http://keepingsecrets-karen.blogspot.com)

and ... You had a birthday which I missed! If you could hear from there to here, you would shield your ears from this: Happy Birday to youuuuu. Happy Birday to youuuuuu. Happy Birday, dear EEjit. Happy Birday to YOUUUUUU!

nuts4fruits said...

Better late than never, here's my tattered ticket: Infinite regress.

Lydia said...

I enjoyed this post so much. Came too late to board the bus, as it is Sunday night...one of those live and learn situations that I well could have incorporated into the poem that I didn't write.

Always such a pleasure to be here.