h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Entry: The Bell (work in zero-progress) - A54297930
Author: cactuscafe thrice retired - U1320388

OK .. similiar to my other entry .. sorting out some loose ends here ..

I submitted this work here last July .. and some of the suggested edits are now in place ...

... these suggested edits were most helpful ...so thankyou AWW ....

.. the edits were mainly to do with the use of the word ... which I have attempted to replace ..

.. it is by no means complete of course ... now I think the rest of the poem sounds totally and completely peculiar .... the balance has gone bonkers ....

The punctuation is most definitely peculiar .. I think I have used dashes where semi colons are needed .... I need to brush up on my semi colons .. ... ..

what is a semi colon? hmm

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The fourth line in the fourth verse .. which reads ...



is most decidedly dodgy .. the line originally read



.. but I removed the .. now its worse ... especially as I don't think is something that one can be amidst .. can it? not even with poetic license ?

no! ...

if you have any suggestions for this line they would be appreciated ... else I might lose my license .. for poetic speeding ..

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grrrrr ....this is the trouble with re-writing .. I find ... ... the balance of the entire structure goes out ... rewrites drive me crazeeeeeeeeeeee

...its a bit like rearranging the skeleton .. you know .. something clicks out in .. say .. the neck .. so the doc clicks it back in .. then the kneebone goes askew ...because the skeleton has gone out of balance what? ... you know what I mean ... ...

hmm .. interestingly I am fond of this strange work ... despite its persistent structural skeletal flaws ..

....the theme fascinates me because it came to me ..as if in a dream .. and is somehow taking me on a journey .. I didn't plan it ...

can anyone relate to this? a visitation from a theme that is much more interesting that any planned theme?

However .... this too is an old work .. perhaps I will rework it totally one day ... leave out the rhyme ...out with the ghost bell .. in with the dancing askew ghostly skeleton writer-person! ..



for now .. 'tis as it is .. feel free to notify me if you see any glaring and obvious dislocations ... .. and I'll credit you with the work .. and the doctor's fees ...

although this re-submission was mainly for the thankyou and the acknowledgment of the AWW ..

so thankyou

cactuscafe

The story in this poem is great.

All that jungly stuff - well, it sounds like a parody. Maybe of Poe or some other 19th-century guy. Thomas Grey on an off day...

I think chucking the rhyme and getting something more irregular in there would totally change the voice and fix the problem.

Suggestion: Rewrite the poem without rhyme, and don't be omniscient. Put one person in that chapel, just like in a short story?

I think this works as a ballad, telling a story .

But maybe the story could be worked up further?

If you want it to be really spooky, you might try a free-verse version, with hints of ghosts, and the sound of bells through the crash of the waves.

I wouldn't worry about the dashes. Lots of poets used them - look at Emily Dickinson.

Good points all.

Good evening writers all ... good heavens! .. what a fine response! .. and thankyou for your time! ....

interesting .. you are both very intuitive! ... you have picked up on the fact that I'm not writing in this kind of rhyme format any more ... seems it was a curious mode of expression from another time .. another place .. like last July ... ....and when this ghostly oddity was written I was just coming to end of this particular rhyming phase and it was getting a bit tired .. ..

and so now I consider myself officially released into the uncertainty of mysterious prose poetry ....or free verse (is there a difference?) .... yes .. I think there is ... but I'm not sure what yet ...

..... which ... if I know me ... will still break out in rhyme ... like some strange affiction ... .. but in the middle of a sentence .. ...and has its own kind of ryhthm ......

now let me consider your suggestions ...........

...put one person in the chapel ... one person in the chapel .. put one person in the chapel??? ... ah yes! ... this is poetry and mystery indeed .... .... I shall now of course have to wait for a dream ... to see who that person is ... ... unless its you sir??

will you be in my chapel if I can be in yours? ...are you ringing bells that aren't there? .... I must call up the spirits ...

I don't know who is in the chapel .. who is in the chapel? ... this could get weird ... ...I love it ... the journey ...

Hints of ghosts ....the sound of bells through the crash of the waves ... good heavens MVP ....this is poetry! .. can I be in your poem? .. and you can be in mine .....

this is amazing ... always talk to writers .. that's what I say .....

of course! of course! Emily Dickinson loved to use a dash .. and I love Emily Dickinson .. I have a hardcover edition of her complete works ....

Thomas Grey on a off-day? what??? wink wink .... s'cuse me .. you guy in the chapel ... ..... hmm ......

have a cupcake ... ... ... that isn't really there ... because its a picture of a cupcake

I digress ....

hmm .. it would be great to write a short story in part-rhyming prose poetry ... I wish I wish .... maybe I can ... maybe I can ....

or a ballad ....

what's a ballad? must check ... ah ... all this learning ... ....

I really like all this feedback and things y'know .. I can't believe I used to be scared of it ...

and thankyou both so much for your time ...

cactuscafe aka Helen ....

PS I really need chocolate now ... that is really there .... .....

Hear the bells,
Chocolate bells,
What a messy carillon confectionary tells,
Sugar in the belfry,
Coca-cola in the wells,
And overhead the tinninabulation of the bells,
Of the chocolate and liquorice and candy-coated bells,
Of the bells bells bells bells bells bells bells...
Of the handy dandy candy of the bells.

Okay. I will stop now.

What would I be doing in the chapel but listening for the ghost of those bells?

What was that song? 'If I were a bell, I'd ding-dong-ding-dong-ding'?

love it love it love it ....

mad artist you ... ... good mad .. in fact not mad at all ... .... ...

please don't stop .. ever ever ever ....



last night I asked for a dream about who is in the chapel .. but then I got a bit spooked about it ... .. how daft is that? .. being spooked about one's own creation ... .....

so I didn't have a dream .... but I did have a half-dream .. y'know ... waking dream .... and .. in this dream ... a character named Rhymer entered the chapel .. looking all gothic in a long dark coat ..and acting all wild and hurt and crazy ... bit like Heathcliff .. mmmm .. very romantic ...

cue b/w film effects .... .. and Laurence Olivier .. ..

anyway Rhymer started ringing imaginary bells ... pulling ropes that weren't there ... and muttering in rhyme .... 'cos he thought I had abandoned him ... ... and I had to talk to him ...in rhythmic rhyme ... tell him to stop being so attention-seeking .... ....

hmm

and the other entity in the chapel is a spirit named Psychology ...

what??? Psychology? that's a bit psychological innit???? and the bell-sound is a psychological brain-frequency ... so everyone who goes into the chapel either goes crazy .. like Rhymer .. or .. erm .. doesn't ... ....

there's no hope ..... see previous posting (the MVP creative writing course thread) about the difference between being a word-painter and a writer ...

byeeeeee .. thanks again for being you ....

and you .. and you ....

and y'all

H ....

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir,
When star-dials they pointed October,
I joined my Psychology there.

Psychology, dearest soul-timer:
Said: 'This chapel of crystalline light,
Is the place where the madman called Rhymer
Tolls invisible bells in the night.'

I soothed my Psychology, kissed her,
I conquered her scruples with sweets,
She'd bats in her belfry, my sister,
Said I'd never go where hootoo meets

Down by the dank tarn of Auber
In the ghoul-haunted pubs of East End,
Though the month it is surely October
And poetry's nobody's friend.


Er, sorry. Apologies to Edgar Allan Poe. (He's going to haunt me, I just know it...)

I love it .... ...... you're keeping me in game here pal .. ..... how can I resist returning ?? ...

whooooshooshy shooshy ... Rhymer will haunt you ... .... no wait .. Rhymer will hire you .. .. to ghostwrite his latest work ... ..

...this daft thread is turning into my kind of writing course ... ... an organically unfolding journey of wonder ...suits my brain-type ... I enter thinking I'm writing a few scattered scratchy verses about a ghostbell in a chapel and maybe I'll depart realising that my true vocation is to write musical scores in a language I haven't yet invented for a theatre in a curious town with hologram parks full of even stranger birds singing in a music too peculiar for words ... that I also haven't yet invented ...or visited ...



there's a character in literature who hears birds singing in Greek .. now who is that .... wait wait

(sound of brain processing info ....) scrunch scrunch

ah yes .... think it might be Septimus .. from Virginia Woof's Mrs Dalloway ..which I haven't read .. but someone told me about Septimus ... I think he's mentally ill though ... I think its dark ... poor Septimus

now I'm upset about Septimus ... ..

anyway ... just came in to say ... in a roundabout way ... .. when I woke this morning I knew what the chapel was!!! yes yes I did ....

in my prose poem story ... that isn't really a story ...(till I hire the ghost writers .. ) .. the chapel is a theatre ... the building looks like a chapel .. must be an old chapel .. now converted into a theatre .... a very magic special theatre ....

the rocky coast location must be some kind of power spot or something ... (is it on Earth?? ) hmm ... because curious things happen to those who dare venture into this theatre .. sort of spontaneous things happen ...sometimes beautiful things .. sometimes a bit edgy .. but it all can be worked out ... theatrically ... so .. somehow get taken over with a creative flow and creations can be born ....

sort of thing like ... ...

be good to gather for a writing course in this chapel ... just imagine what would happen! ...not sure if Psychology can come .. can we ban Psychology from the writing course? and Rhymer? no! ... uh oh ... I hear a ghostbell ringing ...

and .. and ... and .... ... and I can sense other characters also ...in the chapel-theatre right now ... there's a character named Astrology who is engaged in a hilarious yet heated debate with a character named Astronomy .. (except I can't script the debate because I can't hear it .. grr ... have to fine tune my brain here ) ....

and ... and ..... and ...

....

etc

ah but now I must depart ... RL calls me away all to urgently .. for now ... but I will make notes from the chapel-theatre ...and .. erm ... let you know .. .... further down this strange bendy road ...

H

Much .

There is a theatre group in Philadelphia who perform in an old church - which is also used as a church, sometimes.

But the chapel there is special. They have a Tiffany window. It's worth a lot of money, but they can't move it, so they have to save the building.

They save it by using it for the community, even though the community has changed a lot from when rich people put Tiffany windows in their stuffy churches...

Elektra and I sat there and watched them act out 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.

For pics, etc, see A9513993.

PS ......

oh no oh no oh no ..... ... now I'm really rolling ...

got to get this down ... .. urgent ....... ....

Scene from The Chapel ... seems to be some kind of chaotic dress-rehearsal ... .. the script unfolds as it goes along .....destiny and direction of this production is .. uncertain .. .... but ... hey ... that's life The Chapel ... think I might go there .. oh wait .. I am there ... .....

********************************

Rogue Word Painter (a character) ... pacing the stage ....

And somewhere between lightshine and whiteline and traintime and redwine I saw the eye of an exquisite melody winking at me from that corner where memory lurks ....

And somewhere between the uncertain curtains and the unstable table which ludicrously clutter this curious room of my mind - I remember that room - that other room - where summer fragrances streamed in through the windows - yellow roses mixed with cutgrass through cutglass ....

And ...........

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Rhymer .........(a character) .. interrupts ....

S'cuse me .. you can't have unstable table and uncertain curtains ...

********************************

Rogue Word Painter .......says who?

Rhymer ...................says I through my all-seeing eye

*********************************

Question Mark (a character) .... enters stage left .. bows deeply and begins to recite ....

I wonder why we dance and sigh
I wonder why we bleed?
And who will ask the question why
And who will plant the seed?

And will we see that town again
Where first we found that park?
Where lit-up trees all jewelled with rain
Would sparkle in the dark?

And .......

*****************************

Rhymer ...........

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Radio-Ghost .....(A character .. with the fragrance of hyancinths)

And ..........

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oh ... gotta go ........

its good to have a laugh .. ..

tbc

PS .. now I really am not really here ... but ....



no kidding! your incredible posting about the theatre group in Philadelphia .. with attached link ....not yet read ... laters .. hah! ... slunk in here when I was rambling on with my other posting ... and it just appeared ...

how did that happen?



anyway ..so my previous reply was a reply to a previous reply and not to this posting ....

amazing .. how extraordinary! ... and thankyou ....



and 'tis a sign ...

that all things come round again ... and the circle is unbroken (fine song) and all is most wondrous well and that the kingdom is within ...and sometimes without ... and everything ...

thanks AWW for it all .. it started with a curl .. then turned into a swirl .. then became a whirl .. and now the memory is a pearl ...

onward ....

H

'To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.' - Solomon, and a bunch of ditsy folksingers