Fair enough, I'm no Shelley, but as far as I recall he never had to earn a living or scribble his poems in between boring meetings. This little effort was done over a couple a lunchtimes. It's obviously a sonnet based on Ozymandias; I've duplicated Shelley's tricky rhyme scheme and tried to match something of his rhythm . . . but I'd agree it's rather more Iambic Pentamatuerish then the great Romantic's verse. Still, I don't think it's a bad effort considering. I've posted a few pics just to make more sense to people who aren't familiar with the building. The idea for the poem came to me the other day as I was chatting to a friend about the plans for Temple Works in Holbeck. I'm going to a show around in a couple of hours organised by Emma from CultureVultures, and hope to get a better idea of what is going to be done with the place. I'm very attached to the building; my grandparents lived around the corner, my parents got married in the local church, and my dad and uncle drink in the pub next door. I grew up with this place as a massive part of my imagination and it's been gutting to watch what's happened to it over the past decade or so. I've got some pretty vague ideas how I'd like to see things develop, so I'll wait and see. I have my fingers crossed though. The plans I've heard about so far are marvelous.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Tweet Poem.
This was just a bit of fun I did over coffee and cake in Borders this lunchtime. It's a response of sorts to my friend Gayle's poem on her blog. Obviously I'm no photographer, and the writing is a bit dodgy . . . I only had a few minutes to scribble it while my mate was getting the drinks in. Really, I just wanted to see what posterous would do with a bunch of uploaded pics, as I haven't tried it before . . so here goes.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
My Moleskin Project Poem.
Here's my effort for The Moleskin Project; as is evident my artistic talent is negligible. I normally use a much larger notebook too, at least A4 which seems to help my handwriting. It is very difficult to read, so here's the poem typed.
Drawn Together (he thinks.)
I adore contemporary culture
and take every effort to attend
each local event and gathering,
so I'll frequently make a new friend.
We'll bond over spirited banter
with the odd glass of Pinot or Pimms,
displaying the depths of our insights
that are far beyond fashionable whims.
I'll claim art must provoke, not pander
to popular tastes for jollity;
if it doesn't disturb or threaten
it's patently poorer quality!
Oh, look, our latest arrival,
she appears reverential and awed,
she'll appreciate my commentary,
My discernment's so rarely flawed.
She's nodding away in agreement
so I'm starting to wonder whether
it's the time to suggest a drinky?
Love of art draws people together!
Drawing Away (she's thinking.)
I've not come in here for the culture;
truth is, I'm avoiding the rain.
I'm just not that keen on arty types,
they seem so precious and vain.
Where do they learn to talk like that?
What the heck is "rhizomatic?"
Who decides what goes on display?
I've got much better stuff in my attic.
I really don't see any point
in pictures that don't aim to please,
that seem to be dark, ugly and smudged,
about depression, death and disease.
This guy behind me is far too close
so I think I'll just nervously stare
in the hope that he'll soon cotton on
that it's clear that I just couldn't care.
Damn, I can see where it' s leading,
why am I so far from the door!
Please, don't ask me out for a drink.
Once again, I've drawn the short straw!
Friday, July 3, 2009
Not Feeling Very Charitable.
A young woman accosted me in the street a few minutes ago. She wasn't wearing charity insignia, so she can't have been a chugger. But she did have a clipboard and a lean and hungry look about her, so I'm guessing she was hoping to cajole me into switching utilities or convince me of the benefits of some remarkably affordable form of pet insurance. But I never found out, because this is what she said as she physically tackled me: "Sorry to bother you."
Sorry to bother me? Then why try to do to me what Roy Keane did to Alfie Haaland, and go for my knee as I was scurrying past, staring at the horizon, obviously trying to avoid eye contact?
I'm running another customer care course in a couple of weeks time and I'm gonna use this as a textbook example of how not to engage your customer - or, in this case, passer-by - with your opening line
Sorry to bother me? Then why try to do to me what Roy Keane did to Alfie Haaland, and go for my knee as I was scurrying past, staring at the horizon, obviously trying to avoid eye contact?
I'm running another customer care course in a couple of weeks time and I'm gonna use this as a textbook example of how not to engage your customer - or, in this case, passer-by - with your opening line
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Poems I Don't Write.
I did this during a very boring and pointless meeting this afternoon . . . yes, my existence really is that tedious.
Monday, June 29, 2009
@philkirby why do you put text b4 all ur @replies so everyone has to read them all?
I received this tweet the other day. My first reaction was to apologise and to promise to change my approach. It was followed by "Oh, good, then I won't have to unfollow you then." I don't intentionally offend anyone and I didn't mean for my tweets to be "noisy."
I explained to my follower that originally I had started tweeting this way in order to encourage new twitterers to join in the fun. The idea was that Twitter is an open, extended, conversation, best when it's thrown open to all comers. I don't have any wisdom of my own to dispense, and I don't dole out the accumulated insights of the world's recognised autorities and notable thinkers in 140 character chunks. Actually, I find all those quotes that litter twitter just bloody annoying; if I need enlightenment, I know where my library is! Anyone who thinks that Twitter is a vehicle for human improvement must be a bit soft in the head, and I've mentioned it often enough. I use Twitter to talk to people, one conversation at a time. The people I talk to simply interest, amuse, and entertain me, and I hope they feel the same about me. I'm not interested in accumulating "followers," and in fact, if I had one major criticism of Twitter it's that unfortunate word. Why would anybody want to follow me, and why should I give a damn about following anyone else? The whole thing's mistaken from the start.
So, I was a little miffed at myself for potentially alienating someone who might have something interesting to contribute. Therefore, I changed my approach, replying solely to the person who'd replied to me. After about an hour I noticed I wasn't having any fun anymore. The conversations had dried up. People were not chipping in their two penn'oth. And I was boring myself with what I was saying. It wasn't working for me at all.
There are two reasons why I'm not going to change the way I tweet. If I put off the occasional conversational partner, then that's just fine. The first is that it does seem to me that we have our best ideas when challenged by voices that we normally don't hear. I'm not interested in confirming my own prejudices, and I love inviting the unlikeliest people into the conversation. It's great when we don't know where things will end up. I had a natter this morning with a few people across the world about camp comedy in Britain in the 70's and what that said about the difference between the British and American cultural psyches. I certainly didn't wake up this morning with that on my mind. Everyone who participated in that conversation learned something new about themselves, their culture. and the culture of the other. None of us felt the need to lecture or got carried away with the need to prove a point. We couldn't have done that if we'd kept our conversations in our single silos. We would have singularly made some didactic observations and left it at that. But because we were "noisy" other people felt they could get involved.
My second point is more aesthetic. I find people who begin a sentence with my name disturbing if not frankly menacing. It may be the result of 20 years in mental health, but if someone I'm talking to says my name at the start of every sentence I want to know that there's an unimpeded path to the door. It's the sign of a nutcase. And it looks and sounds so ugly too; breaking the tweet into two breaths has a much more natural, much more human, much more authentic feel to it. The Tweet looks better, reads better, and is much easier on the mind. It also feels much more "me."
So, in response to the follower who promised to dump me should I carry on being so noisy, I have to say goodbye. We never got to speak properly. It's fairly obvious now that we never shall. There's nothing to apologise for on either side. We simply use twitter for different purposes. I'm going to carry on my incontinent nattering, thank you very much.
I explained to my follower that originally I had started tweeting this way in order to encourage new twitterers to join in the fun. The idea was that Twitter is an open, extended, conversation, best when it's thrown open to all comers. I don't have any wisdom of my own to dispense, and I don't dole out the accumulated insights of the world's recognised autorities and notable thinkers in 140 character chunks. Actually, I find all those quotes that litter twitter just bloody annoying; if I need enlightenment, I know where my library is! Anyone who thinks that Twitter is a vehicle for human improvement must be a bit soft in the head, and I've mentioned it often enough. I use Twitter to talk to people, one conversation at a time. The people I talk to simply interest, amuse, and entertain me, and I hope they feel the same about me. I'm not interested in accumulating "followers," and in fact, if I had one major criticism of Twitter it's that unfortunate word. Why would anybody want to follow me, and why should I give a damn about following anyone else? The whole thing's mistaken from the start.
So, I was a little miffed at myself for potentially alienating someone who might have something interesting to contribute. Therefore, I changed my approach, replying solely to the person who'd replied to me. After about an hour I noticed I wasn't having any fun anymore. The conversations had dried up. People were not chipping in their two penn'oth. And I was boring myself with what I was saying. It wasn't working for me at all.
There are two reasons why I'm not going to change the way I tweet. If I put off the occasional conversational partner, then that's just fine. The first is that it does seem to me that we have our best ideas when challenged by voices that we normally don't hear. I'm not interested in confirming my own prejudices, and I love inviting the unlikeliest people into the conversation. It's great when we don't know where things will end up. I had a natter this morning with a few people across the world about camp comedy in Britain in the 70's and what that said about the difference between the British and American cultural psyches. I certainly didn't wake up this morning with that on my mind. Everyone who participated in that conversation learned something new about themselves, their culture. and the culture of the other. None of us felt the need to lecture or got carried away with the need to prove a point. We couldn't have done that if we'd kept our conversations in our single silos. We would have singularly made some didactic observations and left it at that. But because we were "noisy" other people felt they could get involved.
My second point is more aesthetic. I find people who begin a sentence with my name disturbing if not frankly menacing. It may be the result of 20 years in mental health, but if someone I'm talking to says my name at the start of every sentence I want to know that there's an unimpeded path to the door. It's the sign of a nutcase. And it looks and sounds so ugly too; breaking the tweet into two breaths has a much more natural, much more human, much more authentic feel to it. The Tweet looks better, reads better, and is much easier on the mind. It also feels much more "me."
So, in response to the follower who promised to dump me should I carry on being so noisy, I have to say goodbye. We never got to speak properly. It's fairly obvious now that we never shall. There's nothing to apologise for on either side. We simply use twitter for different purposes. I'm going to carry on my incontinent nattering, thank you very much.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
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