Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
got live, if you want it
Sometimes you'll be in a situation where there s conversation that you just wish it was possible to hit 'record' to capture all the ideas.
Not the full 30 minute blow-by-blow, but a much shorter segment usually, a two or three minute sound bite that really works and resonates.
I had one of those on Tuesday, when we were sitting in an Italian restaurant eating lunchtime ciabattas and savouring the charcoal flavours all the time in a conversation about 'the now'.
Including whether to write about things as they occur or to wait and reflect.
Labels:
bad sgi,
Broad Chare,
Core,
live,
Now,
poetry,
Spiced Rum,
Taxman
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
trashed laureate
A new form of Poet Laureate was created a few days ago, with the Trashed Laureate moments at the recent Trashed event. A simple process to collect lines, blend them together and create a single work, with the best lines awarded a laureate-like bottle of port.
[1] I want to live a million more lives;
dine with a million more people, say to each;
show me the workings of your world,
before this one winds down.
[2]The house sags on itself as clumsily as a southpaw’s scribblings,
[3]The sky-blue of the china lay scattered;
[4]If you didn’t associate with anyone who’d done a bad thing…
you wouldn’t know anyone at all.
When you shout it makes me horny.
With a great aplomb, the frozen lugworm
grew a third nostril and besmirched
the bowl of peanuts with a large ironing board.
[5]The cymbals hiss, the dragons bliss
soaring high the clouds do die.
Cornice gleam is cornish ice-cream
[6]Alluring, alliterative alliance of arts.
We toss our syllables towards the stars…
Hand in a Jar.
No ideas spring to mind, I’ve scoured the thoughtscape of my mind
Oh well least I tried, now be a good sport
and hand me that port
[7]Motors drone, lights shimmer
An ancient story Arcs through the night.
[8]Life is about randomness, it makes my soul shine.
Amazing, grazing its all about dazing
The beast of uncertainty stands before my eyes
should I walk the right or be the man whom I despise?
[9]Make wine & drink the music.
Paint a beat and make a picture.
Oop, my soup is gloop!
[10]Ten green bottles, preening on the walls.
When you shout it all feels better
[1 Poet Laureate Winner : Jake Campbell]
[2 Claire Thomas]
[3 Viccy Adams]
[4 Rob John Waters]
[5 Andrew Sclater]
[6 the incomplete poet R.Viglionisi]
[7 Ben H]
[8 Sandra]
[9 Abraham Lincoln]
[10 Steve R]
Labels:
laureate,
poet,
poet laureate,
poetry,
trashed,
trashed organ
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