Today's poet

[freckle]

Hi Harry!

i found this by Bukowski...quite upbeat for him!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=va1t6a0zCkQ&feature=fvw

"The laughing heart"

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

[Harry H Howgill]

Alone Looking at the Mountain

All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other -
Only the mountain and I.

By Li Bai

That's lovely.

[Harry H Howgill]

Hi there Freckle

More blackberrying today on the way back from MintFest in town. I can now tell what they are going to taste like by how they come away from the bush.

Lots of street performers but I still don't quite get a lot of modern dance. The best bit was sitting in the middle of the car-free main street eating my sarnies whilst the kids played with their postman pat toys.

[freckle]

Hi there Freckle

More blackberrying today on the way back from MintFest in town. I can now tell what they are going to taste like by how they come away from the bush.

Lots of street performers but I still don't quite get a lot of modern dance. The best bit was sitting in the middle of the car-free main street eating my sarnies whilst the kids played with their postman pat toys.

Aye the kids went again today with their dad whilst I caught up on come dine with me brighton ! so...whats the theory? they taste better if they come away from the bush easily? (ie more ripe?) ...not sure what to do with our supply, I can't keep making crumble, i'll be like an elephant soon!

[Harry H Howgill]

Aye the kids went again today with their dad whilst I caught up on come dine with me brighton ! so...whats the theory? they taste better if they come away from the bush easily? (ie more ripe?) ...not sure what to do with our supply, I can't keep making crumble, i'll be like an elephant soon!

You can't overdose on crumble. It is about the only pud I can ever be bothered to make. It is the Delia method for me: Whack it all in the mixer and blitz it.

Come dine with me! Love the voiceover man!

[Harry H Howgill]

Found this whilst looking for the armitage piece. Can't stop singing it now...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010...ken-for-change

[Sunbeam Alpine]

Blackberrying !

A great subject and a fine piece from Mr Heaney !Even better when read by him .
I've just sweated over 6 lbs of blackberry jam - a future pleasure on toast and scones - but let's hope it sets nicely.
But the best get picked out so quickly these days - nevertheless my good friend Susie (who'd be an excellent addition to the FPS - and a fine runner over cross country ) organised a foraging trip on Thursday evening along the waggonways and we plucked out what we could. Only the fading light put an end to it.
And to think a blackberry these days is something you can really impress your friends with .Well we had hundreds of them but no one to show them off to.

This is also from Ms Plath - but as usual there's all kinds of twists in the sway of words.There's also a marine theme in there somewhere .

Blackberrying

Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.

Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks ---
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.

The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

Sylvia Plath

[Mossdog]

What a lovely offering Sunbeam...........

It is indeed Autumn, there are some early signs.....


Blackberrying

Donning old clothes we grab a placky bag each
And begin the short saunter to the cemetery
In search of bejewelled black fruits.


Walking amongst the headstones
you with your eagle eye identify
the first offerings, illusions of metallic rubus
in the early evening light.
We stop to pick a few, you the low ones and I
Reach slightly higher.

In no time, we perfect our technique,
twist and pull, twist and pull,
ouch!
Pressing on further
Among the uncut grass and memories
Of the loved and the lost
We find the mother of all blackberry bushes
Filled to the brim with antioxidants!


Working as a team, every now and then
I glance over with the realisation
that even at six
you have began to surpass me
and this window of innocence
will not always be open.


Walking home with a bumper crop
Discussing the various culinary options
You excited and proud, I filled to the brim
With the lightness and hope
of a September nuance in
Autumns temporary infancy.

Having been away over much of the summer, I've only had time to quickly scan this thread, now and then, and look what I've overlooked!!! Freckle I enjoyed the naturalness, spontaneous rhythm of your verse which is a sheer delight - many thanks for making me smile. (oh I'd go for a crumble by the way - yummmmmmm)

[Mossdog]

a crystal ocean
the scent of sage on the wind
now just memories

Nice one Hes - yeap, what's that northern saying, 'it's all over, like a holiday' (or summat like that ) Glad no one's seems to have mentioned the C word yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Mossdog]

Mushrooms


Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door

Sylvia Plath

That's a new one for me, and frankly, I can't quite believe its one of our Sylvia's - it's too upbeat. Come on DT, admit it, you penned this gem yourself but are too modest to admit your own genius- eh?