Monday, June 22, 2009
Everyday eclipses
posted by John Davies at 10:03 PM
In the Millennium year when the solar eclipse was due, Roger McGough realised that his travel schedule in a farwaway part of the world would preculde him from seeing the much anticipated heavenly event. So, reflecting on all the eclipses he had seen, and continues to, he wrote this poem.
The hamburger flipped across the face of the bun
The frisbee winning the race against its own shadow
The cricket ball dropping for six in front of the church clock
On a golden plate, a host of communion wafers
The brown contact lens sliding across the blue iris
The palming of small change
Everyday eclipses
Out of the frying pan, the tossed pancake orbits the Chinese lampshade
The water bucket echoing into the well, well, well
The lifebelt spinning past the open porthole
The black, snookering the cue ball against the green baize
The winning putt on the eighteenth
The tiddlywink twinking toward the tiddly cup
Everyday eclipses
Neck and neck in the hot air balloon race
Holding up her sign, the lollipop lady blots out the belisha beacons
The foaming tankard thumped on to the beer mat
The plug into the plughole
Two thin slices; first salami, then mortadella
In the fruit bowl, the orange rolls in front of the peach.
Everyday eclipses another day
Goodbye bald patch, hello yarmulke
A sombrero tossed into the bullring
Leading the parade, the big bass drum.
We hear cymbals but cannot see them
One eclipse eclipses another eclipse
To the cold, white face, the oxygen mask.
But too late
One death eclipses another death
The baby's head, the mother's breast
The open O of the mouth seeking the warm O of the nipple
One birth eclipses another birth
Everyday eclipses.
Genius. Here at The Hayes this evening, Roger McGough held a theatre-full of clergy rapt with the attention of laughter and tears, just as he had at the previous Liverpool Diocese conference in 2004. It's the first night of the four-day gathering. With Roger's excellent contribution it feels - in a good way - like we've peaked already.