the drunken cartographer has a comet tattoo,
July 18, 2008 at 7:19 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 14 CommentsTags: poetry, surrealism, tattoo, writing
oblivious to the sailors wails
deep inside the heaving bowel,
somewhere south of here, he
ponderates, then jabbing with
his quill like some ostrich on a stone,
pontificates,
central somewhere far from here,
t’was warmer and some star
from yonder shone,
meanwhile spotlit by some streetlight
moon eternally smoking beneath
a grey fedora doesn’t ponder
simply waits,
a piano player is tinkling
Chopin
as she lurches sudden starboard
and they flee into the night,
a billion tiny souls like some
cloud of moths ignite and
rush into the moon urgent
to delight,
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- The Australian Poet Laureate
- another quote from Robert Adamson January 31, 2010
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Chopin is perfect, like a trill before the flourish of cascading stars. I have read this aloud – it’s beautiful.
thankyou, Mary P.
Comment by Mary P— July 18, 2008 #
there’s this fascination with tattoos lurking around here, have you seen it?
Yes I have. What did you think of my poem, tiny one?
Comment by aefiel— July 18, 2008 #
as the smoke from neath that fedora I must say, asI travel from shadow to light of moon, that I do indeed ponder though the flame may not.
Yes I do ponder, but I do so, it seems, in vain.
For what understanding have I?
I haven’t even a tattoo
Not a drop of ink.
but then again
what good would it do
to put a tattoo
on the transience of being?
Hmm, indeed,
Comment by ozymandiaz— July 18, 2008 #
I imagine something along these lines…
The link didn’t work, Tina. It just kept timing out so I deleted it. I don’t like dead links they are spooky. What did you think of my poem?
Comment by Tina Trivett— July 19, 2008 #
the musician and the poet in a parley
one mortified and the other tamed
Beethoven’s forgotten, Chopin
ahh no the poem is veiled within
for what good would it do
with no impertinence or shame?
Hmm, I see, I think, maybe,
Comment by aefiel— July 19, 2008 #
Something about Chopin’s music aggravates me… Still don’t know what exactly or why
Intense words Paul.. but great work.
thankyou, i’m very glad you are back,
Comment by Disturbed Stranger— July 19, 2008 #
yes, please… tho i can’t help thinking of caruso when i read fedora… which puts a whole other spin…. it’s all abt magic and stars… or did i imagine… ok gotta go… will come back later friday night beckons over here on this side of the world.. tho i was over at orchid room.. have been lurking for quite awhile.. how do i post.. it’s a bit loser yes, no…
Yes, definitely the looser limbed the better for limbo dancing. I am pulling an RSS feed from the all the comments in The Orchid Room into my sidebar here. The best way to post there is in the comments box. To get on the main stage is a bit harder than it used to be but it is still possible. I am just the drunk who thinks he owns the place. It would be a joy to see you there.
Comment by pieceofpie— July 19, 2008 #
the full moon has just risen here too
love the wild internal rhymes in the last stanza–they are staccatto also and make the blood go wild
Yaya, thankyou,
Comment by artpredator— July 19, 2008 #
mysterious and comely deep swirl
Thankyou, Tipota. I am a bit behind in my commenting but not in my reading. I really want to reduce who many comments I write but your writing continues to amaze and astound me. Often when I get to the end the trip has been so complete I just don’t what to say.
Comment by tipota— July 20, 2008 #
The music of the alliterative effects that pervade every line are so powerful that I couldn’t event attend to the words for the music, like when I was young and listened to Beatles’ songs, it was always the music I grasped first and much later heard the words. Until the billions of tiny souls igniting up to the moon captivated my attention towards the images. To me? The is genius material.
Boo! You rock,
Comment by Writer not Reading— July 20, 2008 #
The poem dances with the idea of time and goings on at different places, but all in one place, so it seems to me. The sound, the rhymes, connect the different people and places, like piano keys tinkling. you’re onto something, your finger is on the pulse of mystery.
Thanks, Christine.
Comment by christine— July 20, 2008 #
I’ve nothing intelligent to add to the above comments. All I’ve got is… I liked it, a lot!
thankyou, psychobillygirl, i love that name,
Comment by psychobillygirl— July 20, 2008 #
I love the poem. The tattoo series…brilliant. 🙂
Tina!!!!!!! hellooooo,
Comment by Tina Trivett— July 20, 2008 #
beautiful 🙂 !!
thankyou
Comment by Mental Mist— July 22, 2008 #