MerryGoRound Monday

Strawberry Plucking; not cherry-picking, raspberry-blowing, gooseberry-playing

MidWinter Strawberry Plucking; not cherry-picking, raspberry-blowing or gooseberry-playing

I have discovered a new poem via a tumblr post by Neil Gaiman. (Well, I had to know what those last two lines were!)

Bagpipe Music

It’s no go the merrygoround, it’s no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,
Kept its bones for dumbbells to use when he was fifty.

It’s no go the Yogi-man, it’s no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.

Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,
Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.
It’s no go your maidenheads, it’s no go your culture,
All we want is a Dunlop tire and the devil mend the puncture.

The Laird o’ Phelps spent Hogmanay declaring he was sober,
Counted his feet to prove the fact and found he had one foot over.
Mrs. Carmichael had her fifth, looked at the job with repulsion,
Said to the midwife “Take it away; I’m through with overproduction.”

It’s no go the gossip column, it’s no go the Ceilidh,
All we want is a mother’s help and a sugar-stick for the baby.

Willie Murray cut his thumb, couldn’t count the damage,
Took the hide of an Ayrshire cow and used it for a bandage.
His brother caught three hundred cran when the seas were lavish,
Threw the bleeders back in the sea and went upon the parish.

It’s no go the Herring Board, it’s no go the Bible,
All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.

It’s no go the picture palace, it’s no go the stadium,
It’s no go the country cot with a pot of pink geraniums,
It’s no go the Government grants, it’s no go the elections,
Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.

It’s no go my honey love, it’s no go my poppet;
Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.
The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever,
But if you break the bloody glass you won’t hold up the weather.

Louis Macneice (via poemhunter.com; links inserted from Wikipedia)

Incidentally, Louis must have been a nominatively deterministically nice guy 🙂

Another interesting find was a painting by a Carl Larsson, whom I admired as a child, called Midvinterblot.

Trapphall i Nationalmuseum i Stockholm med &qu...

Trapphall i Nationalmuseum i Stockholm med “Midvinterblot” av Carl Larsson. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And so, we make the links…

(H/T to Strawbs; their official website is here…)

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About michelledevilliersart

Dribbler, scribbler, dabbler, doodler, dreamer...
This entry was posted in art, Cartoons, Illustration, Music, Painting, poetry, Reading and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to MerryGoRound Monday

  1. wfupress says:

    The intertextuality you’ve created between all of these different mediums is quite interesting. A photograph, music video, poem and sketch may not seem to have much connection, but they actually fit together quite nicely. At the press we are so used to looking only at words and poems that it is nice to make other connections. Thanks for the thought-provoking post!

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