and so fell silent into the sky..."
(The Sky over Co. Tyrone, Oct. 08)
Does that make sense? I really don't know how my creative filter actually works, (I suppose thats the beauty of it...) but I continue to feed it just the same. (And I do know what to feed it believe me!)
Seeing what comes out of my mix-master mind startles and perplexes me at times...
Much of the following poem is in the language of Moya Llewelyn Davies and George Thomson's English/Irish translation of Maurice O'Sullivan's "Twenty Years A-Growing."
But its not I think plagiarism, if it doesn't tell the same story, even though the language and some of the phrasing are similar.
I was in that place.
Transported.
And so, as I was experiencing it these lines appeared upon the page:
On not noticing the time passing:
Reach the top of the road
walk until you reach the hill head
see the house on such a night
see your sorrow
what used you to have
speak the tears falling
as if to put from yourself
a catch on your heart on the way to truth
draw a long sigh
how would you stand such hardship now
see the stars sparkling on something
and what used you to be doing in the run of the day
envied
when you came home with the spoils
who would not stand that hardship
isn't it a great wonder to remember it being made
you had the pick of the strand
the hunt of the hill
and the fish of the sea
I suppose you don't remember
you went among them
to hear the old people full of chatter:
Wasn't it a wild place?
It was musha! ...upon my word!
you, not a stitch of cloths on
as you were born and came ashore
when the day was spent as far as you could see
and so fell silent into the sky
as people scattered
homeward
to their white gables
and sleep.
obeedúid~
06/mar/09
It was T.S. Eliot who remarked that all good poets are thieves - we steal the authentic. Art
ReplyDelete