Brass in the market - Fergal
Tue, 2005-12-13 16:09
#1
Brass in the market - Fergal
http://www.abctales.com/story/fergal/brass-in-the-market
Come on, cherry it!
I could smell it, anyone else?
Thought it was poignant and this bit amazing
'I sit on a wooden bench to
listen - remembering your burnt bones -
and know that
everything good that ever has
been and ever will be
is resonating in the brass bells of those tubas'
Not sure about
'Magnificent deep cracks and
familiar swells of jolly cadence'
I know exactly what you mean I just don't think it is as unusual as other lines in the poem.
Lifted my afternoon.
Thanks Fergal,
Span x
Foster
if i had a vote, this would get it.
it kinda stayed with me, you know?
span
Yippeee!
The cherry meister is a fair one.
There is something about the phrasing or the meaning or the circular imagery that makes me cold and hot and glad.
Good things for such a small poem.
Span x
Jack Cade
It's lovely as a Christmas poem, in the same way 'The Box of Delights' is an ace Christmas TV experience. Christmas isn't the focus, but the setting.
I'm not sure about those 'burnt bones', firstly because I've never smelt burnt bones, (or at least, never noticed they have a smell of their own,) and secondly because I don't really know what it could be referring to. What kind of ghoulish experience could culminate in a loved one's bones being openly and memorably burnt?
span
The way I read it, the burnt bones were an internal personal memory provoked by the setting.
The business and festivity breeding loneliness and gladness.
Maybe I am wrong.
Span x
fergal
Oooh, just came on here and saw this - thanks for flagging it up. There really was the most amazing tuba quartet in Norwich market place yesterday. I sat and listened to them for ages and really hoped they wouldn't stop.
Listening to them made me feel all sorts of things - span said 'cold and hot and glad' - which just about covers it. (and a bit 'sad' too)
Remembering your burnt bones - I didn't say anything about a smell... just the fact they were burnt (as in cremated)... and the tubas reminded me of the fact.
I agree with the magnificent cracks - crackling brass bands are a cliche... I couldn't think of how else to put it - but will try.
fergal
p.s. JC - thanks for mentioning my poem in the same breath as the wonder that is Box of Delights.