February 29, 2008 at 7:00 pm | Posted in music, poetry, writing | 15 Comments
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Beer? Don’t talk to me about beer. I’ve drunk beer from all over the planet most of it in my loungeroom in very mixed company, after all, as Lao Tzu once said, a wise man can see the entire universe from his kitchen window. Perhaps there’s one non-rhetorical question, a question which contains itself perfectly. It would be a word without meaning since it had no context, a mere sound, huh? followed by a halfturn from the mirror which like light fracturing through language assumes tender modulations, flashes of pink and purple, he looks up muzzle first, craft?, there is no longer need for craft, shall I trim this wild garden, ullulate valley,

he tilts his hips and arches his spine,

it is because we are an island surrounded by wild untameable oceans that the light has such fierce quality, at the centre is one vast red desert trimmed by lush forest, something beyond metaphor, a jewel in which i am contained,


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  1. huh? there is perfect symmetry within the word too…the lips barely moving but the sound coming from within, primal, instinctive.

  2. paul
    you should also add the tag “poetry” as it is contained in your writing as well.

  3. paul, I am stunned, flaberghasted, rended mute by your words and your ode to beer.And also by the other stuff you say.Which I always do not have words to really describe how they touch me,

  4. you had me at “beer” but the last stanza (?) is phenominal.

  5. phenomenal is just the word I was looking for too

  6. Time for one of those wierd timewarp answer the comments one by one thingy’s which helps me catch up to you quick thinkers. I am old and slow and hairy lumbering after you with huge ((((((((((((((((you))))))))))))))’s, where’s amuirin, hmm, see if I can magic up another upsidedown frown,
    Jo, your comments are always like gifts,
    Narnie, hello,
    Scot, now I have to start thinking you see, I put that line in there, craft? and then i wrote it three or four times, worrying the split infinitive till broke in two, gnawing a bone,
    there is no need now for craft, (flat modernism with the ‘noh’)
    there is need no longer for craft, swings and pivots on the noh, got that tiggers tail effect,
    there is need for craft no longer, a little too classical and drops off at the end,
    and on and on and decided on
    there is no longer need for craft
    because it flicks out hard into the poem bang bang two quick brushstrokes like claws of tigger,
    it is the pivot that line and I sweated over it and I like the fact that it’s not true, hahahaha haikuschmaiku i say,
    enigma, perfectly named,
    ozzy, looking up at that blinding light, anyone with an interest in time has to be intrigued by the irony of your name,
    and Sumedh, I am following you, your new site is a work of art, opening the first page either words or pictures, I saw an Hibiscus today and I thought I will photograph that and write a little poem for it but then I thought, why? Sumedh’s flower picture series is already perfect, it is a kind of spiritual narrative on something fundamental and incredibly beautiful brought to life, brilliant, so I won’t cos you already have, haha,…

  7. there’s always another beer to discover, I realised this when earlier today my partner and I stood mouth open in awe at the veritable universe of Scottish real ales in a new off licence, real ales we, real ale drinkers, had never heard of, let alone drunk before.

  8. I appreciate the images your word or words create in my fragile mind. I am reminded of a natural world where smell, sound and sight are all contained in the creative imagination of the writer. These environments are a pleasure to walk into. Since I have been reading your blog, I have not encountered the need to wonder through the woods as much. Who would have thought, nature- here and now upon the computer screen? I am always awed by the potential represented by people and technology. Soon we will not need ever to go outside, with writers such as your self giving us our fill of the natural world:)

  9. that last bit is too lovely to label, too beautiful to do anything but sweetly and brokenly fail to define.

  10. My kitchen does not have a window.
    Is there in fact no world for me?

  11. Noh world?

  12. Touche.

  13. “he tilts his hips and arches his spine”
    she grins and begs for more…

  14. Lakota, you are incorrigable flirt. Fast cars are for young men.

  15. Paul honey, are you calling me a fast car? Can i be a convertible so I can go around with my top down? Cherry red convertible i think…

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