Sunday, January 31, 2010

Sunday Scribblings #200: Milestone/Millstone

Take it out to Whithorn,
querns abounding,

Samsonistas new-shorn

plodding their

albatross waddle,

the new boys

new parade,

visions of sugar plums

smacking their heads,

the grainy seas

anchor whey

while rotary & saddle

quell the hue and cry

of the Saturday boys

bonding in Newcastle

stinging the busybodies

down at the shipworks

camaraderie on display

for queen & quern

fossilized Marthas

in flowery tweed

blue-flavored workshirts


tendrils flaming

to the crime that plays:

crones await your pleasure

naming the drill

to suit the nearest

pandering. cuff the boy,

sez Tweed, alphabetize

him, the 200 lairs

embossing him


caramelizing him

dust, finagling

his surrey dreams

down the avenues of lust.



Blogger Teresa said...

ooh. This is definitely gritty and lusty. Samson and Delilah without the Delilah. Cowboys on the trail. Ang Lee. The Bowerie. Village People. And many other images and voices come leaping out at me like savages dancing round the fire in some male bonding ritual. Primal.

1:20 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Underbelly epiphanies, for sure. The SS girls prompt us with "milestone," in honor of their 200th prompt, the contrarian counters with "millstone," which leads us to querns and the Samson waddle and deprivation and lust.

2:44 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

By why didn't you go New Testament biblical with the "millstone" in honor of Sunday? You know "better a millstone be hung around his neck and he be cast into the sea than that he stumble the least of his brothers" and ideas like that. I guess felling Philistines with the jawbone of an ass is ever-so-much more diverting!! Makes for a better movie script, especially when coupled with broken-back cowboys and sway-back steeds.

4:23 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Er, probably cuz I have a knack for stumbling the leastest and the mostest.

At least now I know whither Ang. Some tesseracting there, T.

4:37 PM  
Blogger Andy Sewina said...

Phew, I didn't know half the words in this one, but I enjoyed it greatly for the way it sounds.

Thank you!

7:58 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Gotta have some obscure allusions to keep you on your toes...

And how do you stumble the leastest and the mostest? Just because you like to tilt at windmills and argue with bishops? If that's the case, then I'm right there with you, bro. We could take it as an exercise like writing "I will not throw spitwads at the preacher" one hundred times. (Whoops, did I say "preacher"? I meant "teacher.") Well, in honor of Sunday, we'll leave it preacher.

And, of course, if you want milestones, you need to play the game Mille Bournes. It is great fun for the entire family. A treasured memory of my childhood that I was able to share with my own children. The miles just fly by in that game. And you get to shout in atrocious French (unless your French pronunciation is better than mine). Polyglot games about travel always bring a smile to my face :)

Well, enough tesseracting. Time to start reading. School has started. But I am going to read for fun!!! My classes this semester seem very easy, which could be quite dangerous.

8:08 PM  
Blogger Tanya Gwen Minnick said...

I liked this post :)
you are a very good writer
peace and light

8:23 AM  
Blogger Dee Martin said...

I took a trip to Scotland with my mother before she passed and we drove through Dumfries which is not too far from Whithorn. This had the feel of the people. The sugar plums smacking instead of dancing, grainy seas and stinging the busybodies, cuffing and finagling. I probably wandered far from your path but it took me back. I loved the place to my bones. I think we hold our family history inside us somehow. I was drawn to it and yet the Scots are not overly fond of us. They will take our money but they think we are a bit full of ourselves. They are right. Odd when I got to the end and the tag was Paladin. I journeyed to Scotland and returned with a theme song from an old western show playing in my head. Methinks I need sleep! Did Tweety taw a putty tat in one of those 200 lairs? How could you mention Tweety and lust in the same space?? I am appalled...

9:22 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Andy: Sound and rhythm are what I'm ever after; "sense" is a secondary concern. I'm glad you dropped by again.

9:56 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Whoa there, Mille Bournes girl. Use-ta play the game many years ago; I believe it is still over at my folks' house in the game closet. There's a tesseracting flash from the past.

10:00 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Dee: How cool about Whithorn. Not wanting to give in completely to the SS prompt of "milestone," I bounced off with the idea of millstone, which led me to querns and a Wiki-mention of Whithorn. As badmouthed as Wikipedia is by academics (who dismiss its immediate pleasures, focused as they are only on drone-worthy "credibility"), it is a lush ground for found poems.

My tweety ain't "tawing" nothing; whatever it is, it ain't the diminutive bird. I think "tweety" is the stage just before dust.

10:07 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Tanya: Thank you for your blessing.

10:08 PM  

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