from here
Should we close the door to keep the dusk out, asked child Helga. No, best let it in, grumbled her father. I like a bit of dusk in the hall.
Are there demons in the night sky, asked Child Helga. Several, said her father. You think you've left them in the office, then here they are.
Are we better people at night or during the day, asked Child Helga. It depends on whether you trust the moon or the sun, said her father.
Does mother live in the moon, asked Child Helga. She is the moon, said her father. That's her on the floor right now.
What is the moon's history, asked Child Helga. Never quite as silky as it looks, said her father.
Where does the night sleep when we're in bed, asked Child Helga. Under the bed of course, said her father. It just about fits there.
Are the shadows on the stairs safe to touch, asked Child Helga. You have to glide over them the way your mother does, said her father.
When I wake in the morning am I still me, asked Child Helga. Shall we wait and see? said her father.
How big will I grow, asked Child Helga. Big as a house, big as two houses, just a little bigger than you are, said her father.
Why do we have to have night, asked Child Helga. So we should have something to talk about in the morning, said her father.
What is a star, asked Child Helga. A piece of light that keeps shouting at you, said her father.
What is my head for, asked Child Helga. So your body should have something to hang by, said her father.
Where does the grass go at night, asked Child Helga. It runs into the fields and spreads all kind of gossip, said her father.
Why do my nails and hair keep growing, asked Helga. So you may have a house to live in if all else fails, said her father.
Why do I need to eat, asked Child Helga. One must have objects of amusement, said her father.
Are cats the same as dogs, asked Child Helga. In every possible way except for the exceptions, said her father.
Why do children play, asked Child Helga. To keep alive, said her father.
Who made the world, asked Child Helga. I did, said her father, but now you have to remake it all over again.
Do you dream, asked Child Helga. I think I am, said her father.
4 comments:
I do like this or these, depending on whether you think it is one whole, or a list-of-several. My favourites are a) the last one - Do you dream? - in both ways that it can be read and b)When I wake in the morning am I still me? - a question I still ask or - ask again - and again. I find the answer helpful...
I enjoy reading this kind of surreal poetry. I think it goes back to my early childhood and all those Rupert the Bear stanzas. I must have read thousands of the things.
Incidentally George maybe some good news for Hungary. Prohaska has tipped Turkey to win and he's nearly always wrong. Mind you he right about Austria beating Faroe Islands so he could be on a run. So I wouldn't put my savings on it.
Just had a good luck message from a Turkish friend, Gwilym. By a very bad piece of orgnisation I am to give a reading in London tonight so will miss any action going. I am not expecting Hungary to win.
I haven't touched on the subject of Blackburn Rovers recently, out of sheer sensitivity, but there is an air of slapstick comedy about the state of affairs.
Rovers training ground is in the grounds of a Victorian psychiatric hospital. That's all we need to know George!
Post a Comment