Wednesday 30 June 2010

George Szirtes' poem NOT from beyond the grave!


As a divertimento a poem now from an undead poet!

The usual self-assembly rules apply. Only one line from any poem is allowed. All the selected lines are then assembled to make the new poem.

The LIVING poet George Szirtes has generously given Poet-in-Residence permission to abuse his work in this way.

The beyond the grave series will continue in the near future with Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath jointly producing a new poem from the beyond. They will contribute alternate lines.

But now back to George Szirtes:

George Szirtes' poem NOT from beyond the grave

Even here there are shadows of places: serene,
no bigger than flies. If I strain my ears
I know you are there, somewhere above
heads bobbing like a shooting gallery

and all too small or piqued or plentiful.
I was nothing and the grass was nothing,
celestial and perfect, more or less.

The question is where you go. Come hope, come home.
It is night in the zoo of the universe. Stars lurk
somewhere in the halo of the lamp.

We feed on nonsense whatever it may mean.
The winter is not metaphorical.
In the plenitude of etcetera comes a fullness
strangely moved. It was a long time ago.

__________
gw&gs 2010

6 comments:

  1. Earth has not anything to show more fair!
    When, in the eagerness of boyish hope,
    All bright and glittering in the smokeless air,
    He saw his image carved out of pure soap.

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  2. We feed on nonsense, whatever it may mean - very good line for this work I think. Isn't it a sign of good poetry that one can do this.


    Sorry the Noma link seems to have disappeared - have tried to repair it but my knowledge of links is pretty shaky and either works or not depending upon mood. If youa re interested = Google Noma and go down to Noma - the disease of Africa.

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  3. thou in this shall find thy monument / for crested tomb no brass was spent

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  4. Hello Pat, thanks for the Noma info. They have it hard in Africa. I saw terrible devastation in the Niger Delta - no fish in the river - only crude oil. And it's been going on for 50 years, not 50 days!

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  5. The question is where you go.

    Indeed.

    Looking froward to the Sylvia and Ted show. Crow is one of my favorite books of poetry.

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  6. Clowncar, Float by from your Oort Cloud anytime. You're most welcome. Unlike your rocks!!

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