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Looking for people to have a go at reading this on Soundcloud..

I have posted this piece,which I'm working on - and requires work, I've read it, and recorded it myself here: https://soundcloud.com/user528181418/the-confession-of-joseph-barclay

I'm sure someone could do it more justice..

It's called:

"The confession of Joseph Barclay".

BEGIN:

"Da Rosa, nada digamos agora"

The last century, has come, has gone,
come with me now, I will sing
its song.

For we dream a dream of vested youth,
that personification, is personal proof.

Thrown a touch aloof, little by little,
perceive: the fog scale grows,
thin from gossamer thread in valleys,
to cream fat thick, in the land below.

I watched and wept, as it seeped slow
deep into the sinful secrets I'd buried there,
the earth let slip up by degrees, aired
them slow, grief by grief

State by state, by Philo, by love of
knowledge led, we have been drawn to here,
and by darkling Sophos led,
to ignore that audible voice, once
contained within such screams, humanity
lost, in the cracks of consciousness
allotted in between mannered decor

Were we bequeathed the sky,
that fell in full promised downpour?
In sheets of impeccable thick staccato,
the cats hide, and the dogs crane for,

howling the rain into being with a mad dog chant,
all creatures are drenched equally,
all windows are riddled with enjoining columns,
of pure, linguistic flow, that terminate up in the sky.

Or did we, voice by voice, join the throng
the congregation, slowly die.

Phillipe, I lost you long ago,
you talked in tongues at my window.

All is puddle ankle deep, puddle leak booted cold,
scurrying, clamouring, slamming of doors,
pulling of shutters, windows restrained,
and the drains, the drains, laugh deep loud implores,

for the last laugh is spilling on man.
The tanks thunder with bulging pipes,
an elemental organ bourbon, is playing through air,

and the the dreams and prayers of the people flow forth,
in sound released, down to the slaking earth.
They know that somehow far below,
the singing wells of deep await.

And I have waited , sunk in sink holes
deep of stink that pride cannot follow,
you would deplore my sunken thought
and urge me to that life you knew

How to lead, without the sallow grief,
that guilt impedes, golden mouthed
would have talked through all smog
brought about by the imperfect remedies
of man.

And when I buried you deep, in that
smokey loam of the debauched, you
would laugh at my deceit, and say
that imperfection was not mine;

not mine alone to own, but all mankind
must follow the only truth it can,
and concede to the simple damnation
that follows all we know of man.

Comments

i get kaptcha...so for all the wrong impossible
approaches to this Im out
you all almost heard my voice
after all the years...crikey

so....my idea is to just give up
and say....must to talk to Rhiannon
put up my poems..read em...
tis true....unless you put them in a
sandwich breifcase...then why
not let them rattle about out there
..
but maybe I pissed off too many
by now...
blighty....i was ready to have a go
at it with my voice....

anyway...

please don't go away... you would be dearly missed!

*hugs, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

and send you the logon..email? I know this is a little unorthodox..but we've been chewing the fat long enough mate, don't wanna see you go :/ - glad to help out if I can.

Like Joseph, mind fractures into a thousand shards of glass sometimes, get lost too, being ripped to ribbons by the simple wind, then being comes anew, after promises made, or broken, ah - life.

Talk soon,

Getting caught up..might send you a message about a mighty tree we did battle with, a back woodsman called "mumbles" - a crushed hand, a ruined chainsaw, ute tray back surfing though hills, and so much more.

Take care,

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

You made me delete all the SoundCloud recordings I had made of your work.

I could not hold a grudge against a brother I'm proud to acknowledge as a genius.
So, if you record stuff yourself, Audacity is great for that, I could help you in uploading it to Neopoet SoundCloud and Neopoet.com Facebook.

Or would be honoured to re-record any of your work.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet is a workshop. Poets take the time to read and think about your work and offer suggestions.
There is no obligation to make any changes however please acknowledge critique and comments.

will try again

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet is a workshop. Poets take the time to read and think about your work and offer suggestions.
There is no obligation to make any changes however please acknowledge critique and comments.

I would love to hear this read out loud, but I can't get it to work!

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:
http://eddystyx.mythramuse.com/

Jess' voice is the 'gold standard' Geoffrey Rush of NP:

https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/the-confession-of-joseph-barclay

Mine is a little bit different, more "midlands civil servant":

https://soundcloud.com/user528181418/the-confession-of-joseph-barclay

Interesting contrast - god don't you always cringe at the sound of your own voice..!

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Sorry it took a while.
Read for the words, without first deep reading the poem. I prefer to do it this way so that I don't force my own interpretation. It also gives me a great feel for people's work and I love this.
Reading your 'Last few words' was like recognition after doing the reading.
Bloody fine work mate.
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/the-confession-of-joseph-barclay
I've also posted it to our Neopoet.com Facebook page, hope you don't mind, I'll just delete it if you do.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1737302023208400/permalink/1921690621436...

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet is a workshop. Poets take the time to read and think about your work and offer suggestions.
There is no obligation to make any changes however please acknowledge critique and comments.

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