Thursday, November 10, 2005

Here We Go Again


  • Click 'n Listen to Scalljah poem

  • With a Chaucerean plot choca full of gags striking chords of national wit registered in the ancient state of a natural literature brimming one step before knowing, and at the teetering edge of a first understanding of the nothing that came before us all, the Mad Craic Comedy Basement Collective

    War on Tour & Laugh Session Salon Presents - The Live Wit of

    Sweeney - Raven - Sloppy Bob - Mr Incredible


    Comedy Hip Hop Duo (Leo and Aidan)


    Special Online Party Recording Guests

    DJ GOD


    MC Megagag

    so Cum, Guffaw



    Ladies and Gentlemen

    Irish poesie afficianado and editor, Ms Mimi Misery, has listened to

    "Basho's Gift of Instant Enlightenment"

    Told - in Haiku no less -

    what is unknown, yet

    about to begin

    and punters making pronouncements on topics
    of interest,


    "what falls before and will again
    are those unknowing how
    things arrange, or
    how to call."

    For her fern seed
    will land
    where faith has a home
    and stories untold
    await the teller who'll
    pocket reality
    from her fictions

    to create a belief of what lies
    within the lone dream her dead lovers
    pour still as liquid spirit into many minds.


    An Irish Poetry Knobhead Squad was out in force last night, prowling a gallery of art, puffed up in an all weather jacket the operative felt unable to remove, due to her unhygienic state. For the last forty-eight hours, "Dick Tocker" (lurking undercover in the guise of a balding white-slum male officer agent on duty for the Global Poetry Coalition's Intelligence and Enforcement Agency) has been sporting a dress and calling himself "Mimi", fully equipped to capture and extol the showtime vibes crucial for honest poesie to thrive, and; he, as a she, had a right old dust up of things

    So much so
    that the muse whose balance weights his reality
    - in the critical pieces of incisive reportage crewperson Tocker has been contracted to produce -
    is no longer communing with Dick/Mimi, and so arrangements have been agreed with an alternative memmber of staff which are now in effect.

    The role of author
    exploring where language may lead
    has been handed over to the mind of MC Megagag
    Lovidia Yeats,

    who wields
    through mechanical pencil
    and keyboard
    what thoughts within her allotted span
    will breathe in print towards
    unmarked borders winding through the breeze unchecked

    to a point of light calculation
    - now gadget measured -
    but once a knowledge vast generations
    of ancients guarded in the temples of their gods;

    on the cusp of getting brought
    within a complex of arbiters
    whose practice of symbol
    ritual, truth, 24 hour a day unemployment
    and full time leisure opportunities

    takes place continuously
    here at the Helicon Heights HQ
    of Dublin Quays

    where the Liffey river urges you to drop in, turn on and tune out. For a strange thing is afoot in the world of verse, and art-hewn bulliten boards straining under the leish of trivia are informing us of tremendously important developments in the world of Irish words and, as one night's tale can be told as anothers let me recount how

    In a sea
    beneath some steps
    the shorebound salmon
    listens to nuts talking of fish
    swimming through squalls

    and an audience of water falling sedate
    as its force lifts bouyant
    affirmnational rites.

    a lone headlamp collides
    with alert rabbit-like eyes, alive

    unable to hop through space
    bouncy, unexpected
    pressing and real.

    So it merges in absent connection
    tasted or told,

    and the animal sticks up its paw
    cutting figures through air
    searching for the centre-point
    of dawn's eternal love

    in a flame of life
    timelessly tick
    tocking homeward to a cool
    faced glow where modernity's edge

    sits atop of nature
    kip grim

    unable to hide or stop
    from flopping completely
    in frozen shatters
    as its meek clop beat bop
    bleats chip silent from the clock.

    No comments: