Mirth’s Prime Ministers by Deborah Tyler-Bennett

Defunct barrel-organ’s crinkle-crankle,
thought forgotten, risen,
derelict theatre’s doves. Re-peopling
the past, until sensed orange-peel,
motley stalls, phosphor, as management’s
meagre boys go touting custom.

An old book’s picture conjures
and you’re seated in Row B with others
waiting a worn-out clown’s benediction –

Grimaldi’s final song.

Leant from his chair, hands raised,
paint’s walnut-wrinkly masquerade,
smile wide as Chaplin’s shoe.

Unspoken chorus: ‘Never Joey’s like again’
scarlet-spangle-spangle, blurring tinsel,
hands pressed to lips when all’s concluding.


Like Mum’s visit to George Robey’s last hurrah,
brought forward on a chair for curtain-calls,
twinkling as the orchestra came forward
afraid to miss him.
Hands’ blessing over in thrown dazzle-dust -
from an Empire’s picked-clean crab shell, flighty doves.






George Cruickshank illustrated the great clown Joseph Grimaldi’s ‘Last Song’ in 1839, George Robey, ‘The Prime Minister of Mirth,’ died in 1954 after several farewell tours.

Edwr and The Hart by Steve Rudd has been voted poem of the week at www.Poetryvoices.com

Free short story by Steve Rudd

Free short story for "liking" my writer's page!

Yes - it's shameless self promotion time again!

Because I need to drive up the number of "likes" on my Steve Rudd author page,

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Steve-Rudd/221481391210989

I'm now offering a limited edition of a one-off free pamphlet of my short story entry for the 2012 Sunday Times Short Story Competition, "Sunday Girl", which runs to a massive 16 pages in hard copy, and is also available in e-pub format.

Simply like the page and then send me an email or FB PM saying whether you'd like the hard copy version or the e-pub file. [Data protection small print: this data is purely gathered for the purposes of this exercise and will not be used to bombard you ceaselessly with garbage and witterings.] This offer will run til 1st July 2012, or until I reach 100 followers, whichever is the sooner.

If you've already "liked" and you want one, ask your OH or a friend to like me!

STEVE

A slow week at poetry voices!

Of The Many Stags by Steve Rudd

All poems start with a lump in the throat

Said Robert Frost; well, the lump I’d speak, my lump,

Is a lump of rock, in Clyde water, fourteen hazy miles clear

Of the blue coast of Ayrshire; a granite knot

That binds up my best memories in a bundle.

A slice of my life, on screen now,

One-sixtieth of a second, Lamlash Bay, me and the dog

Two thousand five, and Holy Isle

Seven years ago, now digitized

Sleeps blurred in heat behind me, the horizon.

Mountains with Gaelic names, high scree

Where no man treads, stones, chambered tombs,

Contours the long-forgotten lines of territory

Atlantic rain soft-blurs epitaphs

On lonely graves of nameless sailors;

Sandy shores, Kildonan and Kilmory

Blackwaterfoot, bucket, spade,

Seals, otters, Basking Sharks,

And lighting driftwood fires on pebble beaches,

And pods of porpoises, Kilbrannan Sound,

All still exist in stasis, beyond my reach;

Somewhere between the sunset, and Kintyre

The ferry-boat is always halfway to Clanaoig;

The Calley Isles is coming from Ardrossan

The sun is always setting on Goatfell, Glen Chalmadale,

Last day of holidays, as I stand on Brodick Promenade

Waiting the Calmac boat’s return, the lump in my throat

Is Arran, being my poem, once again.

The World's Longest Poem

See more on this project

We've now converted the 1215 lines of the existing poem and we will now be adding all of the contributions which have come flooding in during the last few weeks, as Gez Walsh travels the length and breadth of the UK and, indeed, beyond, performing and appearing in schools and libraries and at festivals. If you've recently sent us something, watch out for it appearing in the next couple of weeks or so!

WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT?
Famous Potty Poet, Gez Walsh, is hoping to add the title "Guinness World Record Holder” to his many accomplishments. He’s aiming to produce the world’s longest collaborative poem!

There have been many famous long poems in literary history, of course, from the Babylonian Epic of Gilgamesh to Anglo-Saxon sagas such as Beowulf, through Medieval poems such as The Canterbury Tales, via Paradise Lost and Wordsworth’s Prelude …

All of which are very tough acts to follow: Gez is unfazed by this, but he needs the help of all you unsung poets out there:

"What makes my idea different is that it will be a collaborative effort,” he says. "People still think of poetry as essentially a solitary activity, with the lonely poet sitting up in his attic, sighing about his lost love. Nothing could be further from the truth! -We're going back to the original roots of poetry, when people would gather round the campfire and swop epic tales of heroes, villains, monsters, myth and magic.

One other important difference between Gez's poem and its epic predecessors is that it will be created online and this is another factor, says Gez, which will promote co-operation and inclusivity. Gez believes the internet can be liberating. "The internet is the modern equivalent of gathering round the campfire to tell tales and stories. It's just that now, the camp fire is a global one, and everyone is welcome. As long as people stick to the basic structure and any rhythm or rhyme scheme that is going on - or invent their own," says Gez, "they can take the poem where they like, subject to the normal standards of taste and decency and some basic legal considerations - which, in Potty Poetry, are set pretty low!" What else would you expect from the poet laureate of flatulence?