Sounds good, David. I hear you! Best, Sheila
On Sun, Apr 27, 2014 at 10:27 PM, David Bircumshaw <
[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> thank you Sheila. I like the alteration of 'has to' to 'must'. I'm chary of
> dropping the parentheticals because it is a matter of voice and voice, the
> other being both the backdrop of time, as in the names and the archaic
> 'writhen', and also the inner voice of the speaker commentating on its own
> self.
>
>
> best
>
> dave
>
>
>
>
> On 27 April 2014 20:50, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> > David, I find this quite compelling. The footsteps lead the pace, the
> > pulse. I keep wanting some of the "parentheticals" to be dropped plus a
> bit
> > of tightening. For instance, "Your stride/must bend and buckle,
> > ham-strings/strain like balked wood, eyes/transfixed,/ you lose sen of .
> .
> > ."
> > (I've put in the kind of shortening that I speak about):
> >
> > Because this is a very "heard" piece. It wants to be right there where
> the
> > path is (being made).
> >
> > Sheila
> >
> >
> > On Sat, Apr 26, 2014 at 11:30 PM, David Bircumshaw <
> > [log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > > *Crossing the Mud, the Day Finds *
> > >
> > > me walking on the line
> > > of a worn, smothered path
> > > through a brown muddy,
> > > mud-muddled, ridge and furrow
> > > field (‘rig’, I’m told, they say
> > > ‘rig’ in the county)
> > >
> > > trying to follow
> > > someone shorter
> > > else’s steps, footsteps,
> > > the glue pull of slippage
> > > either side. By *Smeeton*
> > > (the Smith’s *toun*)
> > >
> > > *Westerby* (the West farm).
> > > Appreciate how hard it is to follow
> > > in someone else’s steps. The as they say
> > > to follow. To literally.
> > > No other gait goes
> > >
> > > quite the same,
> > > on the ancient path. Your stride
> > > has to bend and buckle, your ham-strings
> > > strain like balked wood, your eyes
> > > become transfixed,
> > > you lose
> > >
> > > all sense of track
> > > and where (
> > > *in the field, the goo mud field*) of what
> > > is above, beside, behind you, of where
> > > you are heading
> > >
> > > other than those prints,
> > > the small moist prints like mist,
> > > on the human way,
> > >
> > > *writhen *
> > > the ever-writing map,
> > > across dumped ploughed centuries,
> > > the snake-track
> > > before you.
> > >
> > > --
> > > David Joseph Bircumshaw
> > > Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> > > http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
> > > The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> > > Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
> > > Tumblr: http://zantikus.tumblr.com/
> > > twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
> > > blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
> > > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com
> > >
> >
>
>
>
> --
> David Joseph Bircumshaw
> Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
> Tumblr: http://zantikus.tumblr.com/
> twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
> blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
> Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com
>
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