Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Milk N Cookies

Just in the door from the second Milk N Cookies event in Exchange Building in Temple Bar. Lovely idea; people gather, drink tea and coffee (or milk!), eat biccies and my home-made mince pies and get up and tell stories .

Stephen Smith, poet of this city, gave a fine 'talking' version of Waltzing Matilda, Stephen is the mastermind behind the regular Glor Sessions in the International.('scuse fadas) A young man (sorry folks, no good with names) got up and told a very funny story about his Dad getting stoned and how they tried to keep it from his Mam. There was a love story told by a man called Gerry who has one of the most mellifluous voices I've ever heard, someone on the radio should snap him up. An American gentleman told a Fionn McCool story, (why is it Americans tell our folk tales better than us?). A flame haired young lady called Sarah Griffin read a wonderful story that is endeavoring to be a play, it is a great story in whatever format in ends up in. Sarah appears to be both actress and writer and one of her plays is currently running in the Project - keep an eye on this girl, I think she will go far.
I read 'The 5.50 13A', not one of my better stories but suits the spoken word. It went down ok but I think but was overlong, I need to cut my stuff way down if I''m going to read again.
Jack Harte, the man who was instrumental in setting up both the Irish Writer's Centre and the Irish Writer's Union read from his new book of short stories. Every writer in the country owes a debt of gratitude to Jack for his sterling work on our behalf. I was glad to hear Jack is of my own opinion that the short story ( not the 'literary' short story) is fundamentally an oral art, stories that are meant to be told aloud and should be written accordingly.
Me brudder says I have to post a poem on me blog (even though I'm the first to admit I'm no poet) so I will and here it is.


Bloody Hell!
Why do
Assume that
Am obligated,
By my missing ‘Y’
To care for Life’s minutiae.
God Almighty!
What unnatural law dictates,
That irritating tasks require
Attention on those very dates
That I’m
Least capable.
Please explain
Why Cadbury’s Chocolate
And Tayto Cheese and Onion
together, yes, together
Provide the only comfort
That is acceptable.
Stupid Man!
He’d hear me if he listened.
But his head is full of sport
And silly things
like politics.
No room for me.
Just P.M.T.
An acrynomic diminution
For a hurricane of hormones,
Velocity immeasurable.
Batten down the hatches,
It’s gonna be a bumpy night.

That's meant to be centred and in bold but I cna't do it in this bleedin blog - just imagine it ok!

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