Thanks for the comments about this, they’re much appreciated.
I found my visit to Prague really important for me – at last, I found a 
place where I wanted to write about things. I guess, given the chance, I 
must still be a city kind of poet…
Plinths, Ryfkah, are what some statues find themselves on, a kind of base or 
pedestal. I assumed it was a universal word.
And thanks, Gary - Yeh, I guess some of the statues were based on real 
people, and used real people for models, but I guess I was seeing some kind 
of ideal image in what I saw! I didn't include the thought in the poem but 
they had a look about them that's similar to a face, or a full figure, on an 
advertising hording - resembling a human being but not quite human enough to 
be human.
And I chuckled over what you said about statues and sculptures, Sally. These 
were all statues. Most of the city streets have large buildings with huge 
statues half way up their walls! Many buildings had four, some only had two, 
but there were so many! I can remember strolling along and thinking, “H’m” 
(like y do!). As well as all these overly tall stone people, Prague also has 
some fine sculptures. Maybe the next poem I post…
And yes, Christina, the comma! Erch, comes of being a bit shortsighted these 
days I think. I didn’t delete it in revising things, didn't notice it! 
Thanks. (H'm... I guess I could say it was an Oxford Comma – their 
University Press still insist, I think, of including a comma in a list 
before an “and” – but, if I said that’s what I’d done, I’d be fibbing!)
And thanks for the suggestions about possibly superfluous words, Catherine. 
It’s helpful because the piece is so fresh to me – and I’m still looking at 
it with the sounds I remember more than seeing it with fresh eyes, hearing 
it with fresh ears.
Bob


>From: Bob Cooper <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: The Statues Of Prague
>Date: Sun, 8 Aug 2004 11:08:16 +0000
>
>Here's one for some C & C:
>
>The Statues Of Prague
>
>They stretch and yawn, clamber down from plinths,
>from lintels, canopies, and balustrades,
>to crowd into some seldom visited square
>where they murmur in their ancient languages
>of what they’ve seen since the last time
>they gathered like this. Expressionless faces
>begin to smile, some give stone cracking laughs
>at the follies of people, their fickle moods,
>the arguments, quiet confessions of love,
>while others dance slowly or sit and play cards
>until dawn pinks the sky when they sigh, return
>and hoist themselves heavily to where they’re seen
>so high above us with looks on their faces
>we can never reach, so single minded, so alone.
>
>
>
>Bob Cooper
>
>(who hasn't got a cow in there anywhere!)
>
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