X-Runner, what a find. That is brilliant. I can appreciate the hard work that has gone into that.
I laughed at this last line!
The crowd felt such a dread
They all turned and fled
And slammed the pub door in their fright
Then from the deep within
Came a terrible din
Like a Clayton-le-Moors training night.
With thanks to Lawrence Sullivan,"The Fell Runner" Summer 1987, page 17.
x-runner: a bizarre poem! and your efforts in the archives must win you 'researcher of the year'. So....they were doing this 22 years ago eh?
You're showing my education to be lacking AGAIN!Originally Posted by Old Whippet
I had to Google "proustian" to fully appreciate your post. Keep up the high literary standards.
Involuntary memory is a conception of human memory in which cues encountered in everyday life evoke recollections of the past without conscious effort. Its binary opposite, voluntary memory, is a deliberate effort to recall the past. The term was coined by French author Marcel Proust. From this philosophical root, involuntary memory has become a part of modern psychology.
And a youthfull Wheeze was publishing his Gripping Yarns in the magazine and having to apologise for upsetting as certain Olympic champion. Although he did get a free pair of shoes for his troubles.
Last edited by XRunner; 21-11-2009 at 10:51 PM.
Now these poetry exploits are expanding my imaginative capabilities. But a youthful Wheeze? Steady on man!
So how does that work? I need a new bike; should I try upsetting Chris Hoy?
Well....seems to be boy's night in!
a poem about poets.
A Patchwork of Soul
I stumble on poets whom I’ve not before read
With visions of mountains to climb in my head
Old mysteries to learn buried deep in my heart
Viewed from a mind we’re a long way apart
But the mystery unfolds in a patchwork of art
Eastern light shines in the rhythms of men
Who seemingly travell and come back yet again
They say that it’s true there’s not far to go
If you travel light and forget all that you know
It’s a patchwork of heaven sewn through the ages
Sung by the poets and sat on by Sages
It’s a mystery of words with meanings revealed
When the tongue is silent the ears are healed,
In amazement in wonder the silence is bliss,
As thoughts turn to rainbows the Self sends a kiss.
Wojja Fink
Pretty damn good. Please pass on my regards to the great poet Wojja Fink. Do you think he's a pal of ee Bye Gummings?
definitely a relative of Wojja Onabout and friend of Hoojja Meen
Seriously, I thought it was great poem, and pretty spot on as to what this thread is all about.
sadly HHH, I can only claim credit for finding it, not writing it!
now to enjoy the absence of female whippets here and watch match of the day.
Doubtless be back later.
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
