Muse by Craig Ranapia

Oh sweetheart. Lyrical and prosaic, all at once. Love it.

I couldn't do the full press Wallace Stevens - where you feel very smart if you end up just being totally bewildered. That's what a life spent in insurance will do. :)

I have no idea who Wallace Stevens even is. As far as I'm concerned. it's an original work of art.

With shades of Wallace and Grommit?

I know where you got that...
It's a Rap by Tu Pac's Brother, Flat Pac.

Rogue DVD stands giving you a hard time? Seagate, Western Digital, Samsung, Intel and OCZ all have the answer. Well, not sure about Western Digital right at this moment.

Next step, IKEA flatpac kitchen?

BTW, love your work. ;-)

(I’m sure that’s not right),

At least you RTFI! Spare bits, schmear bits. The drawer is full of 'em :)

Good Jackie, wikipedia “13 Ways of looking at a blackbird.”

And – Craig – as someone who has countless thingamajigs left over from countless bookshelves et al, I share the angst…maybe we should organise a pool of spare thingamajigs to be donated to anyone who wanted one/some/the whole phuquing
barrel-load?

Next step, IKEA flatpac kitchen?

Are you completely insane? A murder-suicide where you eat is never a good idea, and plays havoc with your re-sale value.

maybe we should organise a pool of spare thingamajigs to be donated to anyone who wanted one/some/the whole phuquing barrel-load?

Islander: I think we have the collective willpower (and desire to spend a couple of weeks in Venice) to secure a commission for a site-specific performance art instillation. Or wearable art. Per diem, baby!

Go! Get funding! Go! And I will be your support person here in*every* respect!

respect!

Especially for an instillation, truly!

(I've been known to make a good drink out of seaweed....)

Nice witty piece. You can adopt 'The Comedian as the Letter C' as a kind of nom de humour

I still bow before the sublime Wendy Cope – anyone who could reduce The Waste Land to limericks is some kind of wonderful.

In April one seldom feels cheerful;
Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;
Clairvoyants distress me,
Commuters depress me—
Met Stetson and gave him an earful.

Cope isn’t the most prolific of poets – six volumes, including two for children, since 1986 – but she’s not only a deft parodist but proves that “light verse” isn’t light in the head, or the heart.

Proverbial Ballade

Fine words won’t turn the icing pink;
A wild rose has no employees;
Who boils his socks will make them shrink;
Who catches cold is sure to sneeze.
Who has two legs must wash his knees;
Who breaks the egg will find the yolk;
Who locks his door will need his keys—
So say I and so say the folk.

You can’t shave with a tiddlywinks,
Nor make red wine from garden peas,
Nor show a blindworm how to blink,
Nor teach an old raccoon Chinese.
The juiciest orange feels the squeeze;
Who spends his portion will be broke;
Who has no milk can make no cheese—
So say I and so say the folk.

He makes no blot who has no ink,
Nor gathers honey who keeps no bees.
The ship that does not float will sink;
Who’d travel far must cross the seas.
Lone wolves are seldom seen in threes;
A conker ne’er becomes an oak;
Rome wasn’t built by chimpanzees—
So say I and so say the folk.

Envoi
Dear friends! If adages like these
Should seem banal, or just a joke,
Remember fish don’t grow on trees—
So say I and so say the folk.

I have no idea who Wallace Stevens even is. As far as I'm concerned. it's an original work of art.

Stevens I knew, but William Carlos Williams even more so.

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Yeah, back in my Uni days that was one of the first poems 'done' in stage one modern Eng Lit.

It was very apt, everyone sat there thinking WCW would have been a pain in the arse to have as a flatmate.

snap (on so many levels)

Yeah, back in my Uni days that was one of the first poems ‘done’ in stage one modern Eng Lit.

It seems highly likely we were in the same class, if not in the same year, at least in the same millennium. Sacha also. And that we had the same flatmates.

This was another that springs to mind.

The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

Nicely done....

Try teaching both the WCW and 13 ways to hung-over first years with flatmate issues.

My quibble has always been the coldness of the plums - I can't imagine that being nice - in the same way that strawberries cold from the fridge are flavourless. Perhaps its that crucial historic term icebox, which, in all likelihood, was never actually cold, but rather, cool.

I'm actually using 'The Red Wheelbarrow' this afternoon to teach Business School academics about writing ..... because, in fact, the poem itself depends upon the barrow, rain, and chickens.