"SUNDAY FOUR" with featured reader Arther Willis.

Today I attended "SUNDAY FOUR" (the fourth Sunday of every month) OPEN MIC at The Old Songs building (37 South Main Street) with featured reader Arther Willis today.

As always Art impressed me and inspired me. When I returned home, I was in a meditative state induced by his poems, to find a present for me on the steps of the Laundromat I manage.

As I cleaned up the mess, I remained in the creative trance as I worked. I couldn't help but respond with what I will humbly and respectfully term: Willisian observation.

After Art read and while the Poets drank at the Pub:

I scrubbed the Sun off of the steps today because

it was being tracked into the store on the carpet.

Who ever heard of a pink Sun anyway…

A gallon of water and some pine-sol did the trick

on him and his companion as well.

A shop broom lifted them up from the cement

and made them bleed down the stairs

violet pink blood.

The carpet is old and worn,

the children were busy

and it was only chalk.

"We have some Modern Art on the steps today…"

said the landlord sarcastically.

I wouldn't have minded except I'm the janitor

and bound to clean the tired old carpet

by arrangement.

"What you do?" said the local color.

"Sweeping up the Sun…" said I.

obeedúid~

27/july/08

An Ulster Myth written in The Hamely Tongue by my alter-ego obeedúid~

...A taste of what I will be reading at the Rabbie Burns Statuary on Saturday. Have No fear, if you persevere down the page you will find a translated all be it not so poetically correct English translation provided.

I found this artwork of Cuchullain on Wiki and cropped it for my own purposes. The artist was noted as unknown. My actual insperation came from "The Story of the Irish Race" by Seumas MacManus. There is a nice synopses of the event and the history of Irish Poets on this Patrick O'Brien Message Board.

Cúchulainn in battle, from T. W. Rolleston,

Myths and Legends of the Celtic Race, 1911

(illustrator unknown)

Thon Greedy Pohets jist-deserts:

Quhan Conor reygne yn auld lang syne

an Pohetes roum tha laan

quhiles cum tae caal a mon o rhyme

yit wus thair wye tae commaun

an honour pryce for prais bestowe

apon tha Kang at haun.

Cuchullain, Kang Conor's Fostir-sinn

an heidyin o renoun

posseyd tha Spere o Vyctory

quhan he assumand tha Croun.

Thon Spere wus myghic-gifit

an lethall quhan twer thrawn.

Sae by an by Cuchullain quhan he wus restin

at heez ingle as yit bleezed

thon Pohet Redg apperyd afore hime

chantin Poyemes o prais

an frae hiz mouthe cwm platitudes

wi ivery tern o phrais.

Quhan he wur don Redg di' demaun

foir hiz pryce o honour

thon thang Cuchullain moost di' priz

an Ullister caad o woner

Tha Spere o Vyctory

frae tha heir o Kang Conor.

Twer Cuchullain's unfrien’s

quha plann tha Pohet's deceptioun

thon Spere's repute

wus sur tha Pohete's intentioun

foir the wus jelous,

o tha Ullister Cheften.

Noo quhan tha Campioun Kang

di' affer Redg astead

Gowd an Siller, Shep an Angus

iver thing he bred

thon conspirin Pohet

wodnau iven affer a tred!

Desparit o hiz honour

Cuchullain cud no abyde

pairtin wi hiz Vyctory

nor pairtin wi hiz pryde

he thrist hiz Spere

an at Redg he oot-cryd:

"Tak yer heresme!

Yae da-dilly conspiren mon!

Ga'aff an ga bak,

quhaur twer iver ye bagon!

Ye'll niver gie tha best o mae

nor ony o yer clan!"

Anso, tha Pohet laucht unto

Vyctory wi hiz heid

a wee bit supprissit,

bot havin daen sae sed:

"Tis indee' o pow'ful giff

alas bot noo, A'm deid…"




obeedúid~

08/july/08

~~~

The Greedy Poets just-desserts:

When Conor reined in old long times

and Poets roamed the land

when sometimes came to call a man of rhyme

it was their way to command

an honor price for praise bestowed

upon the King at hand.

Cuchullain, King Conor's Foster-son

an High-One of renown

possessed the Spear of Victory

when he assumed the Crown.

That Spear was magic-gifted

an lethal when it were thrown.

So by an by Cuchullain when he was resting

at his fireside as it blazed

that Poet Redg appeared before him

chanting Poems of praise

and from his mouth came platitudes

with every turn of phrase.

When he was done Redg did demand

for his price of honor

that thing Cuchullain most did prize

and Ulster called a wonder

The Spear of Victory

from the heir of King Conor.

It were Cuchullain's enemy's

who planned the Poet's deception

that Spear's repute

was sure the Poet's intention

for they were jealous,

of the Ulster Chieftain.

Now when the Champion King

did offer Redg instead

Gold an Silver, Sheep an Cattle

every thing he bred

that conspiring Poet

would not even offer a trade!

Despaired of his honor

Cuchullain could not abide

parting with his Victory

or parting with his pride

he thrust his Spear

and at Redg he out- cried:

"Take your winnings!

You foolish conspiring man!

Go off and go back,

where ever it were you began!

You'll never get the best of me

not any of your clan!"

And so, the Poet caught

Victory with his head

a little bit surprised,

but having done so said:

"It is indeed a powerful gift

alas but now, I'm dead…"

obeedúid~

08/july/08

...What I did on my summer vacation....

~~~

The thing we forget about genealogy is: DIEING SUCKs!

~~~

We had to put Sarah's cat down today. (Who am I kidding, she slept on my shoulder every night...)

"Mooshee" watched me today, as she always did, making a box out on the back deck. I have been building flower boxes for years from old asparagus box staves. The descendant of Box makers and Coopers; who now believes in genetic memory.

Today I built a Coffin. (Yeah bIRD, theres the "Coffin" connection too.)

It was kinda creepy I'll admit, but she was content to be with me as always while I built it. I couldn't just dump her in a shoe box; even though my Conklins and Glenns were Shoemakers.

~~~

From now on when some one asks me for a definition for "Surreal" I will have to answer: "Calling around for price quotes to kill your cat." Unpleasant, but advisable in todays take advantage of peoples emotions to get at their wallet world. (Prices ranged from $60.00 no frills, to $259.00 private cremation and etc....)

Sarah and I brought her to a Veterinary Hospital nearby. We were able to be there to hold her paw and cry together when she passed. Then I placed her in the casket, wrapped in her bed towel and nailed the lid on. Medium price: $139.00.

~~~

We went to Mom's house and dug a grave out back under some sodded shamrocks.

After we said some prayers, we went into the house just as the sky opened up and the rain poured down in buckets of tears....

~~~

On entering the house Mom handed me a copy of the Deed for the Conklin plot that my 3rd cousin Regina sent me from Middle Village NY. Its actually a transcript dated Oct. 13th 1894, and lists married names and indicates that only my mothers mom's father had issues.

(Click for larger view)

My Conklin ancestors were printers, generation upon generation. Hmmmm, imagine that, just like I was for 14 years and just as my brother Rich is today.

~~~

The thing about death is remembering. Remembering those who lived who made us who we are. Our siblings, our forefathers and foremothers, and even our pets.

"Mooshee" 09/july/08

You loved us well.


Rest comfortably in the Lap of the Lord.


...goodbye 'ol friend...

You will be remembered!

obeedúid~
09/july/08

Wondering whats going on? So was I ....

obeedúid's~genealogical~graffiti~flag~

I decided to do a test to see if I could improve my view count on my blog this weekend. So I did a short thing that was filled with keywords that I thought might bring up hits and here's what I learned.

I could spend money trying to increase my traffic or I could just keep doing what I'm good at.

Part of this is attributable to the way Google ranks things, but the most important reason is because I was doing just fine on my own thank-you very much! All the consulting I have received so far, and what they want to sell me at a price, has shown me that what I have been doing is doing it right naturally.

It seems that over the past year or so I have carved out my own little section of the web just doing what comes naturally. I know what my best keywords are now and guess what? I'm happy where I am. I may not be that most noteworthy blog on the net, but like I said; its my little corner of the "series of tubes" and it works pretty good!

U'm savvy sucka!
We down wit dat!
If it ain't broke don't fix it!

Its my flag and I'll wave it the way I want too!!!

~

I'm going to sleep now 'cause I have to work through the rest of this holiday before my vacation next week anyway....

Lots of graveyards to mosey through. Lots of trails to investigate. maybe a trip to NYC to visit a 3rd cousin even.

~

Oh yeah! I'm reading. I don't get out much lately but Dan Wilcox asked me to "Read-some-Rabbie" at the Burns Statue in Albany's Washington Park on July 12th. I haven't found a listing on his blog or the Albany Poets Calendar for the Summer Statue Series yet so maybe I'm not getting out yet after all....

Where's the Scot-Irish Waldo
At the Burns Stature July 12th
(...I think...)

I'll have to "E" Dan and find out for sure. I'm planning on reading "My Father Was a Farmer" and something else I wrote inspired by Rabbie Burns. If I can I'll V-blog it. It should be interesting and I must confess I don't know what to expect as I have not yet attended this venue.

I had no idea!

Did you know that you were living in "the Noughties"???

Meaning the decade of 2000-2009 that is.

JEEZ! leave it to me to find out one year before my time period is up!

I only just caught it while surfing a blog from Australia on VERVEEARTH.

Apparently its even copy written!

I feel so out of touch!!! ? Where have I been for the last 8 years?

I thought I was living in the 21st Century and I was just a "21st Century Schizoid Man" ....

I wonder what Hancock would say in this situation....

perhaps: "I donn evein reemember dat..."

obeedúid~
03/july/aught-eight.