Thursday, November 03, 2011

brand ageing chips


Posted by Picasa Some brands are beautiful regardless of the necessary commerce which gives birth to them.

As I pass the  friendly shoe mender's next to the station and catching a glimpse of him behind his counter, I realize that the mender is no longer the young man that I knew when I first lived in Tunbridge Wells. Other people show their years. And I must show them too, except that when I face a mirror I do not look for them.  What is more I seem to employ a natural filtration system to avoid them catching me unawares.

I knew that sooner or later the poem that I submitted to Qarrtsuluni in September  on the theme of Worship was going to be published, podcast and all. It is still a bit of a shock or rather a pleasant surprise when  today it comes up on the magazine's regular prompt announcing its posts. Dave Bonta who introduces the poem is kind enough to remind me and others that this is my sixth appearance on Qarrtsiluni. I always wondered what it would be like to be a published poet. Now  I feel that I am beginning to know.

5 comments:

The Crow said...

Beautiful, richly foamed, dark as night - my favorite brew.

I like your close-up of the Guinness harp.

The Crow said...

Wonderful poem. I read along the first time; listened with eyes closed, but heart open, on the second, which, like Frost's choice of the road less travelled, made all the difference.

Congratulations on your sixth appearance. I eagerly await the next.

CC said...

Nice Guinness shot.

All I've noticed regarding aging is that suddenly everyone I know is sporting matching haircolor.... gray!

Congratulations on having your 6th poem published.

marja-leena said...

Congratulations on being a published poet six times, and qarrtsiluni is such a wonderful place for your excellent poetry too.

Barrett Bonden said...

I have left my spoor at the site whose name begins with Q of which, so far, I have never heard a definitive pronunciation. Ironic too that the word itself is never likely to be integrated into anything other than the freest of free verse.

You have written a poem I would have liked to write. I'm not that constitutes praise but reading between the lines you will have no difficulty in detecting envy.