Every time someone at a workshop says they are about to read their poem, and it’s a villanelle, I get an ear worm of your ‘just another fucking villanelle’ phrase. It’s been happening for a while now! It does helps me smile through what can sometimes be a gruelling experience 😄
I have bizarrely a greater understanding of the death conundrum, through the link with the banana's song, which allowed the ease of a slight smile while reading Dylan Thomas’ish poetry as seen through the magic lens of Mike O’Brien.
I should begin by commenting on the poem - as my responses to the articles usally exhaust me first.
Which is hard as there's so much borrowed text - me being obsessed with originality to the point of doing nowt. I clamber over my prude prune (fruit ref) and let myself see it as humour. Which rather like Jim's post today borrows or reflects a poet whom I withdraw from. Not so much Tommybabes, as I have found something lyrical. I just don't dig poems of death and excrement.
It is a cleverly humerous piece and edgy as Mike's humour can be, I like it - it is a relief and a far far better thing than some poetry I could badmouth. I grasp the rhythmical intrusions, as I must confess, I find myself quoting other pieces when I play guitar. I have an original piece called 'Gull', into which I found the theme from 'Dr Finlay's Case Book' sits nicely.
These tunes, verses, echo down the years and those of us with jukebox minds wander through this ad-free paradise free of charge. My own is also free from God's doomchat and morbid lyrics like 'Faith of our fathers' which made me want to run home from school and fight for dad's rights. I thought Roman soldiers were coming for him, and the thought of mum's anguish fired me up. If I'd been the dirty-mouth gobshoyte I can be these days I'd have yelled "I'll get you, you fuckers". As it happened I found myelf risen to my feet hearing the teacher say "Sit down Oliver". She was well-read, I'd guess in her 60s when I was five, wayyyy back in the 50s.
So this is where I'm sent contemplating this - is it a villanelle then? I am trying to get tech stuff but find it gets in the way until it enters my domain naturally. Even then I ain't no idea boss. (That's banana talk from the 50s). I do like how you've had a go at all that crap that made my childhood so miserable (not all the time) and impossible (all of the time).
In closing, as my eyes are fried (thank eck they groaned) and I wish the bacon was - the art concept is another of those sort of Andy Capp v The Tate Modern moments. I wish I knew some bozo who'd buy tat - they'd be welcome to clear the garage - and thence let me find stuff. It can't be sorted cos that means moving things, leaving them in prospective groupings - and causing more mess. Flo might come home with something from the jumble sale but would Andy hang it/set the plynth/glass case?
No, he might suggest where say, a banana might go. He enjoys the vista of wooden boxes marked XXX and bottles littered about. Were Andy Capp cartoons art, or just novelty pics? Is a banana art, and if so, I am Lord High Priest of The Don and Dearne Rhubarb Appreciation Society.
Every time someone at a workshop says they are about to read their poem, and it’s a villanelle, I get an ear worm of your ‘just another fucking villanelle’ phrase. It’s been happening for a while now! It does helps me smile through what can sometimes be a gruelling experience 😄
I have bizarrely a greater understanding of the death conundrum, through the link with the banana's song, which allowed the ease of a slight smile while reading Dylan Thomas’ish poetry as seen through the magic lens of Mike O’Brien.
🤔😊🍌💀x
I think you may have ruined Dylan Thomas for me FOREVER!
Yes, I find that quite funny..
You find it quite funny today…
I should begin by commenting on the poem - as my responses to the articles usally exhaust me first.
Which is hard as there's so much borrowed text - me being obsessed with originality to the point of doing nowt. I clamber over my prude prune (fruit ref) and let myself see it as humour. Which rather like Jim's post today borrows or reflects a poet whom I withdraw from. Not so much Tommybabes, as I have found something lyrical. I just don't dig poems of death and excrement.
It is a cleverly humerous piece and edgy as Mike's humour can be, I like it - it is a relief and a far far better thing than some poetry I could badmouth. I grasp the rhythmical intrusions, as I must confess, I find myself quoting other pieces when I play guitar. I have an original piece called 'Gull', into which I found the theme from 'Dr Finlay's Case Book' sits nicely.
These tunes, verses, echo down the years and those of us with jukebox minds wander through this ad-free paradise free of charge. My own is also free from God's doomchat and morbid lyrics like 'Faith of our fathers' which made me want to run home from school and fight for dad's rights. I thought Roman soldiers were coming for him, and the thought of mum's anguish fired me up. If I'd been the dirty-mouth gobshoyte I can be these days I'd have yelled "I'll get you, you fuckers". As it happened I found myelf risen to my feet hearing the teacher say "Sit down Oliver". She was well-read, I'd guess in her 60s when I was five, wayyyy back in the 50s.
So this is where I'm sent contemplating this - is it a villanelle then? I am trying to get tech stuff but find it gets in the way until it enters my domain naturally. Even then I ain't no idea boss. (That's banana talk from the 50s). I do like how you've had a go at all that crap that made my childhood so miserable (not all the time) and impossible (all of the time).
In closing, as my eyes are fried (thank eck they groaned) and I wish the bacon was - the art concept is another of those sort of Andy Capp v The Tate Modern moments. I wish I knew some bozo who'd buy tat - they'd be welcome to clear the garage - and thence let me find stuff. It can't be sorted cos that means moving things, leaving them in prospective groupings - and causing more mess. Flo might come home with something from the jumble sale but would Andy hang it/set the plynth/glass case?
No, he might suggest where say, a banana might go. He enjoys the vista of wooden boxes marked XXX and bottles littered about. Were Andy Capp cartoons art, or just novelty pics? Is a banana art, and if so, I am Lord High Priest of The Don and Dearne Rhubarb Appreciation Society.
Ah-maybe
Thank you for entertaining us Mike!!
Fantastic, Mike. I'll never look at the DT poem the same way again.