Today's poet

[Hes]

R4 11.30am today there is a whole programme about the guy that wrote the Dr. Zeuss books...its well worth catching again on Iplayer.

[Alf]

R4 11.30am today there is a whole programme about the guy that wrote the Dr. Zeuss books...its well worth catching again on Iplayer.

I think I had as much fun reading those Dr Seuss books to my kids when they were young as they did listening and later reading themselves.

[Alf]

Fox in Socks

Stop it! Stop it!
That's enough, sir.
I can’t say such silly stuff, sir.

Very well, then Mr. Knox, sir.
Let’s have a little talk about tweetle beetles….

What do you know about tweetle beetles?
Well…

When tweetle beetles fight, it’s called a tweetle beetle battle.

And when they battle in a puddle, it’s a tweetle beetle puddle battle.

And when tweetle beetles battle with paddles in a puddle, they call it a tweetle beetle puddle paddle battle.

And when beetles battle beetles in a puddle paddle battle and the beetle battle puddle is a puddle in a bottle…

…They call this a tweetle beetle bottle puddle paddle battle muddle,
and…

When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles and the bottle’s on a poodle and the poodle’s eating noodles…

…They call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle bottle paddle battle,
and…

Now wait a minute Mr. Socks Fox!

When a fox is in the bottle where the tweetle beetles battle with their paddles in a puddle on a noodle-eating poodle.
THIS is what they call…

…A tweetle beetle noodle poodle bottled paddled muddled duddled fuddled wuddled fox in socks, sir!

Fox in socks, our game us done, sir.
Thank you for a lot of fun, sir.

— excerpt from ‘Fox in Socks’ by Dr Seuss (1904 - 1991)

[Stevie]

I like Ruth Padels work, I imagine her brain as a furnace - way way hotter than a cauldren. In the book "Angels" a lot of the poems have a pace and an edge that is sometimes breathtaking. A lot of the poems in this book are quite dark but I have tried to avoid choosing one with too much blackness about it.

Angel by Ruth Padel

No one sees me. Fathoms up
a nest of rays, all protein,
grey velvet triangles

siz metres wing to wing,
a coat on them like a Vymerana,
ripples at the edges, slow,

the way the skite-tooth grass
trembled in lunar winds back home.
So no one knows

and if they read the impress
where my egg sacs
crumbled into bed, work done,

there's nothing they could do.
I listen to the humming
and I wait. Suppose they clawed

one ring from my antenna-bone
up through that tunnel of sea-cow
and acetta-swabs

changing sex halfway through life,
pink to meridian blue,
they'd re-do Linnaeus,

any story of black holes,
re-assign prizes
for the signature of matter,

but still they wouldn't
see what's coming.
How do I know all this?

Baby, where I come from,
we had pre-rusted pictoscopes
to tell us about aliens like you.

[Stevie]

Fox in Socks

Stop it! Stop it!
That's enough, sir.
I can’t say such silly stuff, sir.


— excerpt from ‘Fox in Socks’ by Dr Seuss (1904 - 1991)

Thanks for posting this Alf, excellent fun, and thanks to Hes for mentioning it!

[freckle]

evening all, stevie i liked the angel poem although i have to confess i have an aversion to creepy crawlies and the description of antenna bone did make me kind of shudder! very well written nevertheless!

dr zeuss...think our fave in this house is the cat in the hat....

well here is another "being human" poem which made me reflect that one of my really annoying habits is that I live my life far too much in either the future or the past...should try and rebalance things a bit me thinks...


The Present
By Michael Donaghy

For the present there is just one moon,
though every level pond gives back another.
But the bright disc shining in the black lagoon,
perceived by astrophysicist and lover,
is milliseconds old. And even that light’s
seven minutes older than its source.
And the stars we think we see on moonless nights
are long extinguished. And, of course,
this very moment, as you read this line,
is literally gone before you know it.
Forget the here-and-now. We have no time
but this device of wantonness and wit.
Make me this present then: your hand in mine,
and we’ll live out our lives in it.

[freckle]

Slumber Song


Some day, if I should ever lose you,
will you be able then to go to sleep
without me softly whispering above you
like night air stirring in the linden tree?

Without my waking here and watching
and saying words as tender as eyelids
that come to rest weightlessly upon your breast,
upon your sleeping limbs, upon your lips?

Without my touching you and leaving you
alone with what is yours, like a summer garden
that is overflowing with masses
of melissa and star-anise?


Rainer Maria Rilke

I read this last night just before i dropped off, its gorgeous MG thank you for posting!

Hes your haiku were beautiful too x

ps MG i thought your interpretation of blank joy was spot on

[stevefoster]

Fantastic photo! I really must get hold of the book. Here is a photo of my own, just illustrating what I meant by the memorial, church and Stoodley Pike monument almost lining up. Not a great photo, the light was very flat that day.
Attachment 4894

Not a bad photo, taken from Pecket Well? I remember losing a wellie in a bog near that memorial whilst walking with my Dad as a nipper, brought back good memories, Cheers Stevie.

[freckle]

The dream keeper
Langston Hughes

Bring me all of your dreams,
You dreamer,
Bring me all your
Heart melodies
That I may wrap them
In a blue cloud-cloth
Away from the too-rough fingers
Of the world.

[Mountain Goatess]

Gorgeous Freckle
I used to have a dream keeper hanging in my bedroom window but I must have had it facing the wrong way as I still got nightmares!
I'm glad and proud that my poetic interpretation of 'Blank Joy' was approved by the Poet Laureate of Fellrunner Forums :wink:

The dream keeper
Langston Hughes

Bring me all of your dreams,
You dreamer,
Bring me all your
Heart melodies
That I may wrap them
In a blue cloud-cloth
Away from the too-rough fingers
Of the world.