Thursday, April 16, 2009

Tambourine

Tambourine Laura Dockrill

She grew up in one of those places
Where the lifts stank of piss-
Sing down with rain outside,
She watched her old man ruin the face of the next door neighbour…
A bust lip,
A smashed nose
and left his ear hanging off-
Ten she would wonder,
why she was born into this world where her mother cooked a roast dinner from a packet and
nobody in her family even liked music-
Ally she was incredible,
She had ears like a hound
Her brain was like a satellite
Or a dictionary for sound.
She could recognise voices on the tel-e-phone and eventually learnt visitors’ door knocks.
And could tell by the sound of the crunch in the apple if it was Granny Smith, Pink Lady or Cox.
She knew the tap-tap-taps
of the pitter patter pops of her auntie’s 8 year old blue flip flops
And simply said, without a sound in her head
“I think you need some new shoes,”
She could tell by breath
When it was close to death so she kindly informed her grandfather,
She said, “I think it’s best if you have a long rest because you’re life is nearly well-over.”
But most of all in addition to scrapes of toast,
and brushes in paint
and the sounds of popping bubble wrap
Was not the strum of the guitar
or the bling of the harp,
but the percussion in her lap,
She loved the TAM TAM TAM of the tambourine
And the bang bang bang of the drum
If a song had no TAM of the Rine or BANG of the drum why it simply were not a song.
She loved the TAM TAM TAM of the RINE
It was the TAM TAM TAM of the RINE
And put together with bells and skin
It became her favourite thing.


It's even better when you hear her. Her poems are so quirky I just love them.


Sydney was great however I've decided the Uni isn't for me. It was inspiring though and my mate Caitlin and I decided, after meeting many bilingual people, the need for us to learn a foreign language. So we went to the book shop, put our pennies together, and purchased the French For Dummies Audio Set =) Just wait, I'll be fluent in no time. Here's some more Herbert Tobias snaps to keep with the theme...



Paris 1952

Salut

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