On hearing Leo Rowsome's "The Coolin"

FinsburyParkCarrots
FinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
edited September 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Those trillings, accidentals, soaring roars
of pipe glissando callings name my place
of mind beyond these wan and exile days:
Scrambling down a hill road in the rain-
fat sky of deep October, hedges plump
with berry redness. O those pulsing turns
of slow air song, fast fingerings of soul
that shape deep chanters: How they make my home
in noon gull shadowings along Slievemore
beneath an blackbog rainbow moment. Yes,
they show each broken scattering of beach
seashell emptiness; each crust of wall
the tides broke down to mica, quartz and sand.
These vestiges of flight, of loss, I hear
within the song. But yet I hear return,
in seashell lovers' ocean call, return.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • FinsburyParkCarrots
    FinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leo_Rowsome

    http://www.rowsome.ipfox.com/
  • Ms. Haiku
    Ms. Haiku Washington DC Posts: 7,390
    You brought the best out of the musician, and I haven't even heard the music. In fact, I never research bagpipe musicians, but thanks to the links you provided I know more than I did yesterday. Well done, Mr. Carrots!
    There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
    The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
  • DopeBeastie
    DopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
    very nice :)

    s'pecially the last 7 lines...

    perfection :D
  • FinsburyParkCarrots
    FinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    PastaNazi wrote:
    very nice :)

    s'pecially the last 7 lines...

    perfection :D

    Course it fakkin' is. I wrote it. :p

    ;)
  • DopeBeastie
    DopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
    lol :D


    figgin A, yo!


    like, omg, totally :D



    fekka
  • FinsburyParkCarrots
    FinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    Last river,
    redshank stalked,
    flow, flow on through
    Sheeanmore - fast, long,
    deep otterspine moon rippling,
    curving silver skin and seaward bulbs
    of black night water, bog fringed, ceaseless,
    moonlight salmon rainbowed, swoopbird feasted, flowing on
    beyond dambuilding rushwisp kings - Charge, move, pulse, live.
  • FinsburyParkCarrots
    FinsburyParkCarrots Seattle, WA Posts: 12,223
    I scamper,
    I scamper:

    Pebble toed
    and shingle pawed
    over my master's road.
    Midges commune on my
    blackfur matted back,
    nesting in my lank fat coat
    and running as I run.
    I hear the ground's scratch
    between sharp breaths.
    I swallow
    drafts
    of hot peat mist,
    of steam from the flanks

    of the slow cattle I drive.

    I will
    move
    these shadows
    on the road, past Corrigan's Hall,
    past the rush, past the hum of air
    in the pitch only I hear,
    past the patch of bootmuddied grass
    on the turning,
    past the wild iris orange,
    and past the gulf stream fancy palmtrees
    in the bogside gardens
    that goats have made acidic green
    with their lips and gums.

    I
    will
    drive these cattle,
    by scurrying,
    by hearing my master's whistles,
    and his wellies scrunching,
    pebble mountain wet. I will drive,
    let the midges lodge on me.
    I will drive my master's empire home
    before sunset falls on Aughness
    and our own west tide comes to flood us.

    I will drive home.

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