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Friday, July 08, 2005

Begin at the beginning...

Thanks be to the Chief Blogging Officer for reminding us of the gift of Dylan Thomas, whose poetry I find mesmerising. Being in no part equipped for literary criticism I cannot tell you how or why his painted words beguile me so. Perhaps it is because they are so abstract, so strange at face, but still somehow I read them and, as if by some warm magic ancient as the trees, a meaning emerges where none was thought possible? Or perhaps it is his sultry rhythm, contagious as the 'Flu? I have an old BBC recording, a cassette, and old recording of a radio play, "Under Milk Wood", narrated by Richard Burton and other actors welsh, and I swear that after last I listened I thought and spoke and wrote within in its rhythm and its rhyming for four or five weeks after?

I suppose that a grown man wrapped in poems - poyums in the vernacular, annoying as nuculur - for a full-grown man to admit of such without the excuse of a woman to woo, that such calls in to question his jewelery, his stuff, his stature and statuary amongst his fellows? Rather like confessing to the ballet? Well P'tah! to that, says I, who is of an age where such considerations lie, thankfully, a-withering and shrivelled in the grave. Besides, though she be caught, and willingly, I shall always woo her, unto the last day, the final breath. Like Jonah Jarvis,
Fatuous Bearded, come to a bad end... very enjoyable.


UPDATE: Too good to pass up, it's turning out to be quite the Patty day... she'll be thinking I fancy her or sumpthin', stalking mibbe? Well I'm not: I'm happily married, thank-you.

John Keats
You're John Keats! You were born poor, trained to
be a doctor, and then decided you wanted to be
a poet. You threw yourself into poetry with
great dedication. You're very nice and
extremely dedicated to your art. You write
great letters and sexy poetry. It's amazing
how much you got done in your short lifetime.


Which Major Romantic Poet Would You Be (if You Were a Major Romantic Poet)?
brought to you by Quizilla


Name writ in water. Damned straight.

2 Comments:

Blogger DarkoV said...

Nothing surprises me any longer with you, FCB. Having sung the praises of opera and added verve and color to museum visits, admitting to a fondness for poetry is no biggie.
However,
I'm trying to wrap my mind around this fellow of broad cultural and artistic tastes with the bloke who was a rugby player. Now, that is the tough one to swallow.

11:28 AM  
Blogger F.C. Bearded said...

Oh that's easy - you just have to ask a soccer fan. To them, rugby players are all snobby poofs.

11:35 AM  

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