?

Log in

No account? Create an account
Eroticdreambattle [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Tony Grist

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

Automatic Writing [Mar. 18th, 2005|09:34 am]
Tony Grist
Today I will get out and walk the walk and dislike the first thing I see as I pass through the door. There will be dandelions growing up through the asphalt and the little dogs will sniff and pass on. It is Wednesday in heaven and the free-falling flyers of the Euonymous club are making pinwheels in the air. Blue smoke trails from the heels of the biplanes. The zeppelins rove down the mountain valleys.

And I am young and together and I have a rose in the band of my hat. This is a good day. A very good day. Nothing will stop me from popping into the greengrocers and making a withdrawal. I will point my six gun and demand my money. Ha. You didn't expect that did you?

A strange morning, but not so strange as the sight of the marchers on the high street. There are elephants following the band. Fire eaters and fire walkers and strong men in leopard skin coats. the crowds cheer and the little children wave flags and rattles. Someday there will be a new Jerusalem. It will have pinnacles that break the clouds all scaly with golden tiles and tiles of lapis laxuli.

I have never understood the Queen. Why does she do it? Why do her hands wave like that, all white as lilies, all smooth as goldfish in a pool? Never have I seen so strange a thing as the coal-black members of the palace guard. They carry halbards and the halbards have ribbons tied beneath the iron-steel of the broad headed blades. They dance. They dance on the palace green and the crows and the ravens scatter and fly up and sit on the turrets of the bloody tower and make corvine conversation.

It is Wednesday still. Wednesday in heaven. Tall streams fall from the mountains. The smoke arises and goes. Nothing remains. The meadows are swept clean. The little starry daisies look at the great eye of the sun. Emerald fields and emerald eyes in the heads of the copper-skinned women of the vales.
linkReply

Comments:
[User Picture]From: arielstarshadow
2005-03-18 05:25 am (UTC)
The ribbons are to distract the enemy's eyes. The ravens scare me - they seem far too wise and yet far too malevolent. They know the wisdome, but they will not share it with you; no, they like to watch us stumble along, tripping over our preconceptions and prejudices and foolish notions about how the world should work.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 07:48 am (UTC)
The crows peer. They bark new orders. The clouds gather radiant in the south and the beheaded ones come tooping from the far reaches of the King's desmesnes. Alas and alack for those who give suck in those days. There will be no mercy shown. Only the whiffling of the scythes through the summer grass!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jackiejj
2005-03-18 05:28 am (UTC)
Your automatic writing has glimmers of fine poetry inside:

smooth as goldfish in a pool? Never have I seen so strange a thing as the coal-black members of the palace guard.

Maybe you can give us a poem, now you're limbered up?

Here's the title: Wednesday in Heaven.

There you go!

Jackie
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 05:57 am (UTC)
Wednesday in Heaven

The sharpness of the coelocanth,
The murmurings of the hazy days,
Bring me at last to the lorn view
Of broken valves in radiant days.

I came and went by blessed roads
By lowering branches bravely groomed.
No-one I knew was there to point
Their fingers at the lost entombed.

I took a ship into the night
Of toilsome woes and piquant joys.
Wednesday in Heaven is all I know
Where children falter with gilded toys.

Let go, let go and let me roam
The deserts where no camels dwell.
Is this the site where builders toil
To build new palaces in hell?

Or do the wolves who plod the dawn
Come down the river to the mouth
Of fishes who engulph whole towns
Of earnest partners in the south?
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jackiejj
2005-03-18 06:05 am (UTC)
When I playfully asked for a poem, I never expected one so moving.

This is wonderful. And you did it so quickly!

Of fishes who engulph whole towns

--What I like so very much about your poetry is your surprises:

children who falter...with gilded toys...

Thank you! I wish I had your facility and apparent ease of painting a picture of a thought.

(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 07:34 am (UTC)
The quickness was the whole point.

I cheated a little and changed one or two words of the first breathless draft, mainly for the sake of the metre.

Come on, you have a go now......
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: ibid
2005-03-18 06:06 am (UTC)
That's oddly beautiful. thankyou.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 07:43 am (UTC)
Thanks.

I wonder where it all came from......
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: ibid
2005-03-18 05:30 am (UTC)
And what do they know without having known things which saw the light? If they could see without hearing the friends and thery stumble perhaps if the film casing was well enough to forge the light handshake.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 05:48 am (UTC)
But will the purple hyacinths still bloom in the wastelands of Mammara after the looting of the ursine caves by the sea brigands?
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: halfmoon_mollie
2005-03-18 06:05 am (UTC)
Whatever you're on, I want some.

Please.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 07:31 am (UTC)
Strong tea- that's all.

Anyone can play. Just shut down your conscious mind (as far as is possible) and write without pause for thought.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: halfmoon_mollie
2005-03-18 08:15 am (UTC)
I guess it takes practice, I've never quite been able to do it.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread) (Expand)
[User Picture]From: ibid
2005-03-18 06:06 am (UTC)
After the dawn comes and the green whales sing without wailing the string irons.
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: poliphilo
2005-03-18 07:41 am (UTC)
Let them come. We have harpoons in readiness. No whale of might will blight the shortcomings of these days!
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread) (Expand)