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Railways cento

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There were flags, and a few maps.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

A soldier and wife, with haggard look.

The convict, and boy with violin.

The river’s level drifting breadth began.

Things moved. I sat back, staring at my boots.

For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

Letters of thanks, letters from banks.

And for that minute a blackbird sang.

I thought of London, spread out in the sun.

Could do worse than be a spotter of metaphors.

There isn’t a porter – the platform is made of sleepers.

You say I come alive at such moments.

 

Sources: Patricia Beer, Edward Thomas, Thomas Hardy, Philip Larkin, WH Auden, Simon Armitage, John Betjeman, Greg Freeman

 

CentoWrite Out Loud November poetry exercise

◄ Pictures

The cat, the damselflies, and the deer ►

Comments

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Greg Freeman

Mon 19th Nov 2012 23:48

I wish, John ...! I do think there are some beautiful ones there.

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John Coopey

Mon 19th Nov 2012 21:17

(Yours was, by far and away, the best line, Greg)

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Greg Freeman

Mon 12th Nov 2012 22:55

Glad you both liked it, Margaret and John. I'm not as widely-read on railway poetry as you might imagine, John. All the poems I've used here - apart from my own one, of course - came from a little volume called Railway Rhymes, ed. Peter Ashley. The Pershore one you mention is in there, too.

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John Coopey

Mon 12th Nov 2012 12:16

Enjoyed this, Greg. But I ashamed to say that, for someone who enjoys railway poetry, I only recognised Auden's Night Mail.
My own favourite is Betjeman's Pershore Station.

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Margaret Holbrook

Mon 12th Nov 2012 11:41

I like it-lots.
And so much so I think I'll have a go at my own found poem, later. Thanks for the inspiration!

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Greg Freeman

Sun 11th Nov 2012 13:39

Thanks for commenting, Isobel, and my apologies for not explaining what I was up to.I was taking part in Win's excellent Write Out Loud workshop exercise, http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=32699, in which I grabbed lines from other people's poetry to fabricate something new. The words are from The Branch Line (Patricia Beer), Adlestrop (Edward Thomas), In A Waiting Room and At the Railway Station, Upway (Thomas Hardy), The Whitsun Weddings and I Remember, I Remember (Philip Larkin), Night Mail (WH Auden), The Metaphor Now Standing At Platform 8 (Simon Armitage), and Dilton Marsh Halt (John Betjeman). The last line was my own, from a poem called Bagni di Lucca. I found it interesting to shuffle the lines in such a way that there seemed to be some kind of music and narrative. Greg

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Isobel

Sun 11th Nov 2012 12:47

LOL - Have just realised why I found some of the poem a little disjointed - also why I found it odd to have a little boy with a violin in it...

http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=32699#page_comment_104067

I see it is a patchwork of different poetry lines.

You still manage to get across the mood I was suggesting. But I guess it may not be about remembrance as I first imagined.

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Isobel

Sun 11th Nov 2012 11:56

I like the mood you create with this poem Greg.

I'm struggling to understand the title. I thought it read ceno at one point and thought it was an abbreviation for cenotaph - or perhaps cento is the abbreviation for that - I don't recall ever seeing it abbreviated before. It's probably me being stupid.

That minute lasts an awful long time when you are in a crowd. I like the idea of train spotting mixed up with poetry and the remembrance of the dead - it's an unusual combination. Also liked the idea of the platform being made of sleepers - it's sad but gentle - the foundations of life as we know it.

Love the irony of the last line - the fact that we can become in touch with our own humanity by connecting to the dead.

It's something I can appreciate.

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