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Friday, 09 May 2008


Brilliantly brilliant and lovely ! It has a taste of surrealism and a touch of mystery.
It seems confusingly easy to write such a poem but I think it must be rather difficult to do so. I too look forward to read Mrs Cornflower's version - but why not?
I guess it is the typical poem that English schoolboys and girls learn at school and sing all together with the class.

I prefer it with the commas because they help understanding it, they indicate where to stop and breathe and also because it is an old poem (punctuation marks are usually removed in modern poetry).

Re To EmcC
To aid and abet the lovely Cat... Dark Puss and I belong to Team A and we were off duty that precise week. Ask Team B why they didn't do the job.
Well, a very feline excuse, I know, but feline excuses are the best and I guess Dark Puss is proud of me! I train with him to be a cat in my next life.
To tell you the truth, Mr Bagshaw, I just can't concentrate on Pound's poem, I don't know why. Maybe I'll try again later.

Fascinating poem. I would prefer it without the commas, though.

We look forward to reading your version in due course, Cornflower!

Enthusiastic applause for this one! So neat is the dovetailing there that I've been trying to copy the form and write my own feeble version.

I only comment (well mostly) when I have something to add. I did read the To EmcC and I am not sure whether I liked it or not, but I had nothing that I thought would be interesting to add to your weblog.

I think in the poem above some of the lines can have a third interpretation; for example the first could be a good description of a moderately large (few kg) meteoroid breaking up in our atmosphere. The second last line is easy since virtually every object we can see in the night sky are suns, just not our own Sol.

Dark Puss

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  • Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the disovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. (Umberto Eco, Reflections on The Name of the Rose)
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  • Standing among savage scenery, the hotel offers stupendous revelations. There is a French widow in every bedroom, affording delightful prospects. (Tyrolean inn brochure, according to Gerard Hoffnung)
  • (A doctor is at an elderly relative's deathbed) "The old sawbones, eh?" he bellowed ... "Just in the nick, perhaps. Haul the old girl back by the short hairs, if you ask me. Devilish smart at his work ... Always take a fence with more confidence when I know he's out with us."
  • Too often, when a man of Monty Godkin's mental powers is plunged in thought, nothing happens at all. The machinery just whirs for a while, and that is the end of it. (P G Wodehouse, Heavy Weather)
  • ...the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid (Kipling, The Five nations)

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