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There Is No Sanity Clause

December 23, 2011

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So, another year of good conversation and good verse comes to an end. Three years; who imagined it would last this long? Not me.

Thanks to all of you. Have an enjoyable Festivus and we’ll meet again in the new year…same time, same place; you’ll know me because I’ll be wearing a red rose in my button-hole and carrying a copy of The Collected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke; the password is sic semper tyrannis. Until then…

11 Comments
  1. reine permalink
    December 23, 2011 6:15 PM

    And once more with feeling…. in the right place.

    While I have a minute in my hectic schedule of socialising, revolving husbands, cooking, shopping, harbouring murderous thoughts, I just want to wish you all a happy Christmas, whatever form that will take and much good fortune in 2012. It hasn’t exactly been my annus mirabilis but I know others here have had difficult times and I hope the new year will be a bright new beginning. Thanks Mishari for always providing room at the inn. Mistletoed kisses to all. xx

    PS – is that a testicle hanging out under his hat?

  2. December 23, 2011 6:30 PM

    Er, here’s a winter poem from 2008 that I just remembered…

    Winter, like joy, is an ice-cube a-buoy
    On a fractious and tropical storm
    Chipped adrift from the Pole, it dissolves with each roll
    We need ice to reflect that were warm

    With intemperate, slow, wilful steps though deep snow
    Know adversity also can nourish
    With the blizzard’s jewelled breaths were reminded that death’s wing
    Can give a magnanimous flourish

    When the air is a blade, when black soil repels spade
    When youre scourged by the wind to seek cover
    Pull a cork, kindle logs, you escaped winter’s dogs
    Twine your limbs in the glow of a lover

    Every kiss brings the thaw to a cubit or more
    Of the permafrost tundra of graves
    Lips, swiving and sweat, the best antidote yet
    To hold joyful through winter’s cruel waves

    Happy wintertime to all. x

  3. reine permalink
    December 23, 2011 8:37 PM

    That’s great Exitb.

  4. hic8ubique permalink
    December 24, 2011 5:29 PM

    That’s the ticket, ExB.

    I hope you have all split enough fire-wood (sparing the furniture)
    to keep a flame flickering in your hearths and hearts through these shortest days and longest nights.
    Love over the water to each of you, and to all your dear families entwined.

    Looking forward to more inspiration from Rilke (and a promised tale of Mithras) via Mishari, our incomparable, red-rose-worthy, and deeply appreciated host.
    Delighted to anticipate refining my shotgun skills in the new year…

  5. Captain Ned permalink
    December 24, 2011 6:01 PM

    Merry Christmas everyone.

    This made me laugh quite a bit:

  6. Des permalink
    December 25, 2011 8:01 PM

    Last night, through watching The Worlds Greatest Pranksters, I found one of Marc Wootton’s characters, Shirley Ghostman, a TV psychic who interacts with unsuspecting members of the public.. The guys a genius.

    Happy Xmas

  7. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 30, 2011 4:27 PM

    I thought I had successfully survived the madness of Christmas, only to discoved that HLM had put one of my poor little children through several translating machines over at Poster Poems. My poor child! But when I looked again: Lo, my child was beautiful! For HLM had transmogrified it into a tiny Christ!

    HLM, thou are truly Divine!

    Nothing for it then, but to translate HLM’s English translation back into English. The result, I think, is a vast improvement on my original. Professional translators, you’ve just got to love ’em.

    Happy New Year, or whatever happens tomorrow…

    Jack Brae

  8. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 30, 2011 4:40 PM

    God, but this translation mallarky is extremely difficult. I’ve just realized that I mistranslated a meaning from HLM’s second line and tenty-second lines, so I’ve ammended that now. Will post here in a moment,

  9. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 30, 2011 4:41 PM

    Address of the Owner of Christ’s Deployment in Eternity (Attention, This Way)

    I charged my child to child Pure Time
    (Who glazed that blot, Jerusalem);
    in turn, plutonium, my Brazen Wish,
    set fire my hair, a twice-thrown dice:
    Thus I ascend as formless mist.
    (As consequence his dalliance
    with Noah, Moshe, Abraham,
    and all who swiftly abandon
    Kosher Middle Eastern regions);
    (Honestly, my full attention).
    Spools will implode nonetheless,
    eternities distant of Kremlins,
    pet poodles with a Brillo chassis.
    (Arise, Pickaninny gremlins!)
    What Yahweh summer? I don’t know!
    (A massive piss-up shrank my brain.)
    A smidgen of Christ, a faint glow
    sputtering away at God’s oxygen…
    Oh forget it! What would I know!
    (A massive piss-up shrank my brain.)
    Alcoholised, Christ pours Eternal
    (Who glazed that blot, Jerusalem);
    in turn, plutonium, my Brazen Wish,
    set fire my hair, a twice-thrown dice: a twice…

    Jack Brae Curtingstall

  10. December 30, 2011 10:04 PM

    Ye are too clever by far for me, m’ lads. Fine work.

  11. January 1, 2012 3:08 PM

    Happy New Year to all Pol-Hommer friends
    for on this blog it’s never summer’s end.

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