Harpo Plays The Barbed Wire Harp.

August 8, 2008 at 7:01 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 17 Comments
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Who are these two strange cats
one silent, sleek and black
the other ginger tom
yowling like some ancient carp
as he plucks upon the Dali harp.

enough, he purrs and
smacks the silver surf
ace creates a wave
some tiny tigger
plays Caliban
in a cave,


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  1. Yea baby yea! That’s what I’m talkin bout.

  2. It seems very feeble to say so, but I’ll say it anyway: love it.

  3. in-ter-est-ing…

  4. 😀 music its everywhere, run away run away … i cant stop grinning at dis one…

  5. *grin* love it

  6. I had to look up Caliban…a character in Will Shakespeare’s The Tempest?

    “While he is referred to as a mooncalf, a freckled whelp, he is the only human inhabitant of an island that is otherwise “not honour’d with a human shape”. In some traditions he is depicted as a wild man, or a beast man, or sometimes a mix of fish and man, stemming from the confusion of two of the characters about what he is, found lying on a beach.

    Despite his portrayal, he also has moments in which he delivers beautiful speeches.

    Caliban, a playable race from the Dungeons & Dragons role playing game.

    Caleban, a fictional race of extra-dimensional beings

    The Rage of Caliban a phrase used by Oscar Wilde in the prelude to The Picture of Dorian Gray.

    Caliban (moon), a moon of Uranus.

    I don’t know if thats what you were refering to but thanks for sending me on this extra dimensional journey.

    An excellent portrait of the energy between to extraordinary persons. these kinda odd unlikely connections are what make life worth living, and something you excell at throughout your work is documenting these chance connections, sparks, pyrotechnics, between people, words, worlds, lands, objects, things and other things, A to B, to Z and beyond. tigger the cartographer! and now i’m just rambling.
    Beautiful, thanks Peter. “Found lying on a beach,”

  7. where are my cats? beloved gingatao has them and they are safe curled on his carpet, whew, that’s good and intoxicatingly bewitching beside that.

  8. Thanks everybody. I think this just about finishes this connecticon. Time to look at some new words. You are all wonderful and my gratitude for your patience with my plodding pedantry and tolerance of my strangenesses knows no bounds.

  9. “plodding pedantry” ? Nonsense, old man, just reflections of collective genius wandering where it may, and it may wander dang near anywhere that eclectic imagination of yours stretches its golden tentacles.
    Thanks, Fabian, you are a touchstone,

  10. There’s not many places I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall but that meeting is certainly one of them. I see from your comments too that this is an ending of sorts, which is equally fitting and certainly closes it with a cymbal crash before its retreat. New words eh? Fabulous.
    Thankyou, Mary. The adventure continues, woohoo,

  11. loved it! 🙂
    Thanks, Sumedh.

  12. Fabulous poem, and great commentary. “Tigger the cartographer”? I guess that doesn’t mean bugger the cartographer, although that was my first take.
    Haha, I hope not, Rick, thanks for the kind words,

  13. ‘tiny tigger” awe… i loved the word “ginger” wow, what an interesting poem. as extraordinary mary P says, the cymbal crashes. venture on…

  14. […] and poor, I tell ya. You don’t want that, son. Anonymous is of course a prerequisite for the artist since only the most vain would assume that you know me from these words, no matter how many you […]

  15. It’s wonderful.

    Full of catliness and artfulness and brilliance.

  16. Cool. Thanks.

  17. […] famous and poor, I tell ya. You don’t want that, son. Anonymity is of course a prerequisite for the artist since only the most vain would assume that they know me from these words, no matter how many they […]

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