Thursday, October 9, 2008

A Tender Heart Screams From The Ventricles: Excerpts From The Colin Frape Poetry Omnibus 2


TO HOPSY, AND MY DEAREST ENID

Regularly-o
did I course
and gambol
and leap
in the woods
by the B40 bypass,
with verdant whiskers
and a bobbety tail
to tell-
o.
There I did meet
with Hopsy the Rabbit
by the ferns
under the tree
in the spinney
on the hill
in my best black wellington boots.
We sang
of bunnykins things
and hopped
over the logs
like flamingoes,
our pinky reddy hearts
pumping blood
round our imaginations
till my mum
broke the spell
by ringing a bell
(Not my neck, this time!!!)
and driving me home for
a big plate of fish and chips
which was my favourite.
But I soon found Hopsy there,
hidden between the peas
and occasionally a potato.
Other places too,
like the sitting room, the kitchen,
the stairs, the cupboard under the stairs,
the front bedroom, the back bedroom
and even in the bathroom.
You may think this strange,
but I
do not.
No no.
Friends I had,
whose friends were merely
bubbles blown in the bath,
perpetuated their childly ways
into manhood and womanhood,
so why
oh why
not I?
I thought to myself
as I grew into a young man, a middle-aged man
and now a man midway between 55 and 60
grown like an oak
on some humus of childhoodesque wisdom.
And when I come to collect my pension,
I won’t stand hunched in a line
with the whiskery old men with coughs
and ill-looking eyes,
probably with a heart or a chest complaint,
a lonely wretch
oh no
for Hopsy will be ever
by my trusty side
with her ears flopping in the wind
or the general air if we’re inside for any reason.
And when I’m finally
all hopped out,
I shall pass into the breeze
like a sky you’d fly a kite on/in.
I’ll be with you now
with you now
with you, Enid Blyton.


*


Colin has very kindly submitted a podcast of one of his pupils from the Fop-On-The-Wold Wednesday Night Creative Poetry Club, reading aloud from Enid Blyton’s “Brer Rabbit’s A Rascal.”

Further links of a more adult nature may be found here.


24 comments:

Natalie said...

Oh what a rascally rabbit! Cute story, always a pleasure to hear you read:)

Kiersten said...

So wonderful, as always, Whirl. I'll play that one for my kids!

Also, the accompanying poem was, naturally, delightful.

Really, even if you didn't have a British accent, your delivery is so great that I'd still love it. But the accent just puts you way over the top in my esteem ; )

Whirlochre said...

Not such a big deal round these parts, however. Must brush up on my John Wayne drawl...

Kiersten said...

Well, clearly we love it.

But it's true--I hear my voice and think it's absolutely boring because it's the same accent I hear all the time.

(Here's where you say, but it's a delightful accent! Or, alternatively, where you say, at least we don't have to listen to you when you write.)

Whirlochre said...

Familiarity is potentially boring, I suppose — but reassuring. I bet you'd much prefer waking up tomorrow sounding like Kiersten than (say) Ernest Borgnine.

writtenwyrdd said...

I would like to see the faces of the public when I greeted them with a crusty Borgnine voice. But I wouldn't want to keep it forever. Just till the novelty wore off.

(Which is probably what King Midas discovered.)

Nice poem. Did somebody die?

Kiersten said...

My kids would probably prefer it, too.

Natalie said...

Or you could just decide to talk differently, Kierst. Like, drop down a few octaves and just go with it until people forget the old way you talked.

JaneyV said...

I'm just sneaking in here to say I really love the way you tell a story. Believe me - you are very good. I'm whisper typing because I don't want Kiersten and Natalie to give me a hard time for bailing out on this again. I didn't mean to - I just haven't had the time.

And as for the poem...

for Hopsy will be ever
by my trusty side
with her ears flopping in the wind
or the general air if we’re inside for any reason.


These are words of genius.

blogless troll said...

Entertaining and well done as always.

I listened a second time to count the number of species in the background. I counted 14, plus the completion of Level 6 on Marble Drop, or possibly your cell phone. Am I close?

Evil Editor said...

I still can't believe Br'er Bear didn't get a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for Song of the South. Possibly he should have tried the accent.

Whirlochre said...

Frape sure has his moments, Janey.
And — no-one has died as far as I'm aware, WW.

As for the all-honking all-mooing species, Blogless, I got hold of tons of clips but couldn't use most of them — including the elephant, sadly. As for my cell phone — it merely vibrates.

Whirlochre said...

Thanks for dropping by, EE.

You can't beat Baloo for singing bears. I was just the right age for that film.

Mary said...

I laughed, my eyes watered at the corners so I thought I was crying. This is the best poem I have read in years! :)

Loved the reading, too. And the sound effects remind me of a sound machine I bought for insomnia. Complete waste of money; the croaking frogs caused me to have nightmares about the reptile house at London Zoo.

Mom In Scrubs said...

Love the poem, which I assume you wrote as my google of "colin firth" came up with no results!

You have a natural talent for reading, as well. Sort of reminds me of listening to the Winnie The Pooh tales when I was little - if you don't mind the comparison!

Kiersten said...

It's just the
Bare necessities!
Mother Nature's recipes...
Forget about your worries
and your strife!


Gee, thanks a LOT, Whirl.

Robin S. said...

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Your voice is a sensual delight.

Also, I loved the Br'er guys! I used to love to listen to these stories, and I'd almost forgotten them. Thanks for doing this!

Whirlochre said...

Hey Mary — this frogoidal insomnia machine needs a post dedicating to it. I'm intrigued.

Mary said...

Good idea! I will make it the subject of my next post ... probably on Monday evening.

Whirlochre said...

Sounds great.

writtenwyrdd said...

I'll have to try this reading thing sometime, but I haven't the foggiest notion as to how one can record onto a computer. I imagine Windows has a program, and I do have a mic in the headphones, and a mic plug... Oh bother, as Poo would say...

I love your voice, Whirlio, but the memory of Song of the South with that accent makes it a bit weird for me. Your posh accent would make your reading the phone book sound good, though.

Whirlochre said...

We need you, Spokenwyrdd.

Best prog to use for this is Audacity, which is free and googlable. It also has the advantage of being able to record all those old LPs from the attic direct to your hard disk.

fairyhedgehog said...

That's so sweet and so unexpected.

writtenwyrdd said...

Thankee, master punster. I shall go forth and Google.