Robert is Frosted, William Carlos Williams Sees Red

Inspiration from Halt Near X

Daisy asked me once if I ever got bored. I sputtered in surprise. How should I know?

I can’t remember the last time I was bored. That was a shocking thought. It never occurred to me my blathering brain could be an asset, instead of its usual libelous self.

It goes on and on and ON: stoppable only by donuts (momentarily) ponies (a lot longer) and heavy medication (which I don’t take). Boredom is not in the cards.

I got through an MRI by musically taking apart the orchestral version of Tchaikosky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies”. By taking apart, I mean: first mentally separating out the violins and listening only to them, discarding those, going on to the violas, etc, but the real excitement was listening to the oboe section by itself: so eerily weird when singled out. Those poor oboe players had to practice that at home alone? Torture.

This is my brain on nothing.

It also paraphrases poems, or bits of poems, when it has nothing better to do.  I call this Jane-a-phrasing.

At times, my brain simply makes assumptions.   Did you know there was a Bob Marley song about the importance of standing up for civil rights via food?  It’s called: Stand Up For Your Rice.  How about The Rolling Stones song about the consumerism inherent in expensive running shoes?  I Can’t Get No Status Traction.

While making for much humor at completely inappropriate moments, (such as singing along with friends in the car) it’s  usually at my expense, so I resent the unbored brain.

(That was all disclaimer.  Yup.  That whole thing up there.)

My only explanation: mud season is upon us.


A Prayer in Winter

Oh, give us pleasure in the mud today;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain shedding-out ahead, keep us here

steadfastly stoic in the dripping of the year.

~

Oh, give us pleasure in the sucking muck,

Let us laugh at our tyres spinning stuck.

And make us happy in the happy scraping,

Dust clouds poof and bloom curling round the curry

~

And make us happy in the soggy vultures.

That suddenly above the squelch are heard:

Silver syncopated drops, off wingtip falling, Now and Now…

Before a ruffled fan of feathers shake and drench the cow.

~

For this is love and nothing else is love:

The slime-coated horse reserved by God above

To sanctify us for what ends He will

But one end at least, in joy (please?) we shall fulfill

~

~

The Brown Horse

so much depends

upon

a brown

horse

glazed with muddy

slop

beside the once white

Arabians.

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13 thoughts on “Robert is Frosted, William Carlos Williams Sees Red

  1. lizgoldsmith

    Last week I found myself humming the “procrastination” song to the tune of Carly Simon’s “anticipation.” Certainly it was the procrastinating that was making me wait.

    Reply
  2. grey horse matters

    I don’t usually get bored, there’s just too much to do. I spend most of my days running around in circles, looking for my keys, then put them down after I find them and go look for something else, then my keys are lost again…it’s a vicious circle I tell you.

    As for song lyrics, my kids were the funniest. Yeah, I know another funny kid story, spare me. Here’s a few of my favorite misconstrued lyrics:
    The Eagles- Take it to the lemon
    The Who – That deaf, dumb and black kid sure plays a mean pin ball
    They had a bunch of them.

    Reply
  3. Marissa

    What the heck?!?! I go away for a few days and I come back to find that TLH has been taken over by me, ten years ago, as a sleep-deprived, highly-caffeinated, overly-studious sardonic and sarcastic English major??!?!

    (Me, circa 2000, is laughing her head off at this post. WCW and Mr. Frost, probably not so much. But at least we’re all giggling.)

    Reply
  4. funder

    I love Mondegreens, but I am a plebian history major, so mine are all popular songs. Except one time, when I was 11. We were on a road trip and my parents took us to a Lesbian restaurant. I was on my best behavior, because I didn’t think there WERE any lesbians in Jackson, MS. I’d never seen a real lesbian! This was gonna be so cool. What did they eat that was so different they needed their own restaurant? I got fairly confused by all the male waiters, but I ate my food and kept my trap shut til we were back in the car – where I learned I’d just had LEBANESE food.

    It was extremely disappointing, and I still don’t believe there are any lesbians in Jackson. And I’d still like to try lesbian food. (I hear cake is popular?)

    Reply
    1. theliteraryhorse Post author

      I’ve never heard of Mondegreens, so appreciate the link! I had a story planned around another “mis-hearing” that is listed there as a #1 Mondegreen. Here I thought I was the only one.

      I laughed so hard at the “Lesbian restaurant”. That. Is. Classic!

      Ours does serve a lot of cake. Not to be disparaging of lesbians, there are some foods I consider to be stereotypical lesbian foods, having been to interminable potlucks in the 1970’s and 1980’s. I would look around and think: “So….opening the bag of chips and putting it on the table is the lesbian equivalent of breaking out the good china?” I have eaten more Baba Ganoush, lentil soup, Hummus, tofu pups, vegan carob chip “cookies” and sprouted wheat doorstops, I mean bread, than I care to recount.

      I didn’t exactly fit in with my love of um, steak, ribs, burgers and a good green salad. I got lectured frequently about the evils of makeup, high heels, and commercial deodorant. My friends held (true) a lipstick intervention. Lipstick, the source of all evil, who knew? That was more a particular era, things are different now (I hope), but now I want to open a Lesbian Restaurant!

      (And no, all you lesbians out there thinking about trying to join my restaurant, it is not going to be a workers cooperative! That is SO 1978.)

      Reply
  5. AareneX

    I decompose songs and poetry too. It’s a genetic thing, I got it from my Dad’s side of the family. He taught me “We Three Kings of Orient Are/Tried to Smoke a Rubber Cigar” when I was about three years old. My mother’s side considers the changing of music and poetry to be heresy. And yet, Mom and Dad have been married for 50+ years. There’s gotta be a lesson there somewhere, and if I had a slightly longer attention span, I might be able to learn it. Oh, look: a chicken!

    Reply
    1. theliteraryhorse Post author

      HA! My brothers taught me “We Three Queens of Orient Are/Supremely Easy to Spot From Afar/Our Silver Sequins/Shine Like Beacons….”

      Love it. We should all chime in and have a Re-work your least favorite or most fun poem/song!

      What? Huh? Weren’t we talking about goats? 😉

      Reply
  6. shadowlake2005

    The last time I was bored I was about 10 or so, and when I (no doubt) complained of it to my mother she gave me housework to do, thereby curing me FOREVER of boredom! There is no chore in the world I hate more than any type of housework (though I don’t mind washing dishes for some reason, maybe ’cause it’s water-related?) I love your blog & your adventures and I only check it once a week ’cause I know you’re busy sometimes with real life, but I don’t do disappointment well, either! (No, I haven’t found what it is that I DO well **grin**)

    Reply

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