Sex on the Beach? well surely not
not here on Teignmouth Den
haha! the name for that cocktail drink
In Kavos way back when
Midori , Chambord, orange juice,
Amaretto and melon liqueur
Grenadine and vodka shots,
peach schnapps, maraschino and more
Perhaps it's just a brolly joke?
...Let's hold hands in the rain
...No need. I've got a brolly dear
Now don't be such a pain
...What goes up a chimney up
not down a chimney down?
...Not that tatty brolly dear.
Its bits are falling around
How is that a sculpture then…
a brolly in the ground?
No. It's a paper parasol
the sort that can be found
lined up on the bar in nitespots and clubs
on the edges of highball glass
to catch them as they stumble by;
the sad and drunken mass
who party on and party by
and party all night long.
Why shouldn't they enjoy themselves?
This sculpture says it's wrong
Two cocktail sticks for him and her
insist a carnal theme.
Amongst the kiddies' joyful art -
that's somehow out of tune
The pearl necklace is sinister;
it's meaning dark and rude.
If you don't know, your heart won't grieve
its message which is lewd
We've gone forth and multiplied far too much;
filled the earth with men and their poison.
We produce heavy metal and we burn carbon fuel.
Plastic mountains fill up the horizon.
Like Renoir's tangled mass of black
in his busy Paris street;
like the simple lines of a flock of them;
the vision of Magritte;
Susan Plover uses the same idea
to symbolise and present
that nothing lasts; to take more care.
Our planet is transient
a discord mid the harmony
so the wind will howl and roar
and tear this flimsy parasol
until it is no more
Sunday, 23 August 2015
Friday, 21 August 2015
The Empty Man by Virginia Griem
As I walked along the trail
I met a man that wasn’t there
I saw his hat - I saw his boots
half his trousers - bit of coat
The rucksack on his back was there
His belly wasn’t anywhere
His brain had fallen through his neck
His heart was in his boots I think
I looked around on the ground
His organs nowhere to be found
No doubt a seagull had come down
Snapped them up and flown around
Circling high above the Teign
Dropping bits of lung and spleen
Recycling is a worthy thing
With bits of plastic, bits of string
But when it comes to this poor man
Who’s really made of pots and pans
I have to wonder have to ask
What happened to the poor guy’s bottom
I met a man that wasn’t there
I saw his hat - I saw his boots
half his trousers - bit of coat
The rucksack on his back was there
His belly wasn’t anywhere
His brain had fallen through his neck
His heart was in his boots I think
I looked around on the ground
His organs nowhere to be found
No doubt a seagull had come down
Snapped them up and flown around
Circling high above the Teign
Dropping bits of lung and spleen
Recycling is a worthy thing
With bits of plastic, bits of string
But when it comes to this poor man
Who’s really made of pots and pans
I have to wonder have to ask
What happened to the poor guy’s bottom
Sea snake by Isabella Maxwell
Sea snake,
bright serpent,
creature of the deep,
representation of illumination
of pollution,
coiling like oil,
like a spill of paint,
through the water
choking the living of life.
Breathing fire,
somehow
in the ground,
but you are made of tires,
and probably some wires,
a bottle or two.
I’m glad you’re not real,
but what you are is a saint,
for if you weren’t made-
you might be dumped underground,
where the damage runs deep.
bright serpent,
creature of the deep,
representation of illumination
of pollution,
coiling like oil,
like a spill of paint,
through the water
choking the living of life.
Breathing fire,
somehow
in the ground,
but you are made of tires,
and probably some wires,
a bottle or two.
I’m glad you’re not real,
but what you are is a saint,
for if you weren’t made-
you might be dumped underground,
where the damage runs deep.
one of Melissa Muldoon's "Dragons" |
Nanny by Isabella Maxwell
You old nanny goat,
made of rope,
stood against the rain,
smiling in your age,
I took a photograph
and admit I found you a bit creepy,
but if you were real I’d sure you’d understand
and say the same for me!
made of rope,
stood against the rain,
smiling in your age,
I took a photograph
and admit I found you a bit creepy,
but if you were real I’d sure you’d understand
and say the same for me!
The Pump Potteries – Ropey Old Goat
Ropey Old Goat by The Pump Potteries |
Sunday, 16 August 2015
Cake by Isabella Maxwell
Whose cake are you?
and how old do you need to be
to take a slice of you?
I'd like a helping
if you weren't made of plastic,
Nine candles on the cake,
blue spots all around,
who does this cake belong to?
and how old do you need to be
to take a slice?
and how old do you need to be
to take a slice of you?
I'd like a helping
if you weren't made of plastic,
Nine candles on the cake,
blue spots all around,
who does this cake belong to?
and how old do you need to be
to take a slice?
Birthday Cake: celebrating the sculpture trail. by Karen Lockyear |
Saturday, 15 August 2015
Sea Dragon by Neil Howell
There be dragons,
so the myths say;
they’re there on the maps.
Does a sea-dragon roar,
out in the ocean,
its serpent’s domain
far from the shore?
so the myths say;
they’re there on the maps.
Does a sea-dragon roar,
out in the ocean,
its serpent’s domain
far from the shore?
There be dragons,
so sailors say
in their tales of the rum.
Does a sea-dragon soar
out of the ocean
crushing to tinder
ships in its maw?
so sailors say
in their tales of the rum.
Does a sea-dragon soar
out of the ocean
crushing to tinder
ships in its maw?
There were dragons once,
so poets say
in their songs of the sea.
Then Man took the floor,
polluting the ocean,
poisoning the air,
despoiling the land …..
Now dragons be no more.
so poets say
in their songs of the sea.
Then Man took the floor,
polluting the ocean,
poisoning the air,
despoiling the land …..
Now dragons be no more.
Thankyou Fiona Boss for this video of the Sea Dragon in action
Sea Dragon by Karen and Liz Lockyear
Torn dress by Isabella Maxwell
Dressed to impress,
mask covering sordid face,
stand to admire,
dress made of rubbish
made to look like golden fabric,
girl with sensitive fingers,
the dress entwines her legs,
flowing back out onto the floor around her,
true talent in visible form.
mask covering sordid face,
stand to admire,
dress made of rubbish
made to look like golden fabric,
girl with sensitive fingers,
the dress entwines her legs,
flowing back out onto the floor around her,
true talent in visible form.
Monday, 10 August 2015
The Snail by Neil Howell
Come listen to the tale
of a snail on the TRAIL,
a whale of a snail
like a billowing sail
in the face of a gale,
with a shell so pale
in milk-bottle mail
enchained from its head to its tail.
of a snail on the TRAIL,
a whale of a snail
like a billowing sail
in the face of a gale,
with a shell so pale
in milk-bottle mail
enchained from its head to its tail.
Don’t fail to say “hail”
to this frail plastic snail
as you pass in the day;
and don’t be afraid
or take flight at night
or rail at the sight
of a snail on parade
in the pale moonlight.
to this frail plastic snail
as you pass in the day;
and don’t be afraid
or take flight at night
or rail at the sight
of a snail on parade
in the pale moonlight.
Pray for the snail.
For remember one day,
one September day,
that snail will quail
as its tentacles flail,
knowing it’s come to the end of the TRAIL.
You may wail for the snail
but to no avail,
for the snail on display
has had its day.
It will be ….. descaled.
For remember one day,
one September day,
that snail will quail
as its tentacles flail,
knowing it’s come to the end of the TRAIL.
You may wail for the snail
but to no avail,
for the snail on display
has had its day.
It will be ….. descaled.
And that is the tale
of a snail on the TRAIL.
of a snail on the TRAIL.
TAAG – Snail
Friday, 24 July 2015
The Hole Man by Neil Howell
I once met a man,
a man with a hole,
a hole in the place where his stomach should be.
The whole man marched,
he marched with a pole,
a pole to embrace his entirety.
Does the man have a heart?
Does the heart have a soul?
Is the soul in the space through which you can see?
He is recycled art
and this art has a role,
a role to persuade you to think differently.
Man, hole,
hole, pole,
heart, soul,
art, role …..
all on the TRAIL at Teignmouth by sea.
Thursday, 23 July 2015
The Swan of the Exe by Vicky Jocher
Collaborations
Amalgamations
By notions of history and art
Very much from the heart
A wackin' burd
Made perhaps fantastically, absurdly bold
Sea monster or swan
Whichever the plan,
A folly of old
A folly of new
with plastic jetsam and flotsam, orange, white and blue
Amalgamations
By notions of history and art
Very much from the heart
A wackin' burd
Made perhaps fantastically, absurdly bold
Sea monster or swan
Whichever the plan,
A folly of old
A folly of new
with plastic jetsam and flotsam, orange, white and blue
Harp, aliens, carp and a... monster? by Monica Lang
Look! That harp plays all by itself
No-one’s there. ssss’ MAGIC Mum
ssss’MAGIC Dad
ssssssssssss
Look at the jellyfish
It’s not a jellyfish
It’s got aliens
inside
Ooh. Glittery fishes
Mirror carp
Colourbright dragons
Don’t forget the bags Mum and Dad
the next time we go to Sainsburys
You can Save the Planet too, Mum
and Dad
That’s what the sculptures are for…
out-with-the-kids but NOT SHOPPING
nor armchairSkytelly
content
They drag at their fags and their kiddie’s new clothes
Come away from those
women in hats!
from their scissors
lump hammers and mess
There’s Wetherspoons
only down there
Come away from the
sculptings and seagulls and sand
Come away from the
Grand Teignmouth Pier
old buckets and worn spades
faded jeans and a picnic basket
chattering smiling laughing stopping
to admire our oh-it’s-a-monster
no it’s a swan
actually.
their children make her more feathers
out of our plastic milkbottles
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