Frank McMullan's blog

My post-retirement blog adventures

Guest post: Tampere Thoughts

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These are the ponderings of Erich Keller, one of the Silver Stars cast members, on our recent appearance at Tampereen Teatterikesä in Finland and our visit to the exquisitely located Hangaslahden sauna where ‘go jump in a lake’ takes on a whole new meaning:

Here’s a few bits of whispy-thoughts that fell to the page over our time in Tampere. The first was the impression of Tampere – the blocks lightened by the inverted gaze of the locals… I found that intriguing. The next was resultant from meeting a ‘festivalite’ who was more interested in the poke and the condescension than of an honest conversation. I found it difficult not to tell her to ‘f-off!’ I managed not to. 🙂 And, lastly, a few old wounds surfaced following the inspirational beauty of cherished hours spent with you and the cast at the lake; wounds which felt alleviation of pain by proximity to goodness of the Silver Star kind.


stacked like boxes
not tapered not vault
flat lines flat sky
colours invert
but cobbles
chimney stacks red
for mute eyes dancing
the street is staid

How can I believe a word you say
When your intellect gets in the way
Throw references like sheep to a wolf
And sit smugly in the amber slaughter
You deny me the right to come from the heart
And tell you my story through this work of art
Your brow-beaten look and pious gaze are the
Mark of a woman too long adorned by
Masking self-praise and
Who are you anyway?

Defying death as deep as this lake
That flowed like tar and burned through my veins
I thought it soul but found it a curse
Rejected forgotten imprinted at birth
This water I wear as skin on my bones
Is cut by the lights which shine from the shore
I plunge through the darkness
Am trapped in my heart
More familiar with drowning then walking on land
Naked as sinew I choke on your air
The breath of the lake inside deeply dwells
Silver daggers exhume me
Caress cutting my throat and
I am born among men, standing tall I find voice


Written by Frank McMullan

26 August 2010 at 15:53

One Response

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  1. heavy bongos!

    i really like the last bit
    the lake and your inner lake
    more used to drowning than walking on dry land

    its kind of like the second wave of romantic poetry.sort of byronic.
    on the other hand,shelley did drown in a maybe thats whats reminiscent.


    sean millar

    27 August 2010 at 16:06

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