Friday, 29 February 2008

P-i-R's climate change poem

The weather is big news. This morning, for example, it was reported on P-i-R's breakfast radio that "hurricane strength winds are heading this way"!
As far as TV-News is concerned, aside from Oil Wars and Stock Markets, the weather is the biggest news around. An assortment of courageous and foolhardy persons can be relied upon to capture the world's dangerous weather scenes for the concerned viewer. Poet-in-Residence has composed a climate change poem - a tribute to the work of the world's weather and natural disaster reporters.

Not a Vivaldi summer

...opening shot - the swelling sea
and closing in - we see Vivaldi
windswept and wet and leaning-in
backed by ruthless waves
monsters rampaging from an unseen place
to somewhere well beyond the promenade
yet he stands firm and hard
at the end of his line of notes
now streaming away from his sodden clipboard
his mike held bravely to starboard, or maybe port,
almost horizontal as he screams the obvious news
coming from the white grey sea that's all jumbled up and twisted
we must imagine his notes
caught now
on the privet hedge of a caravan park of splintered wreckage
and upturned boats
all ragged wet and torn
and flapping themselves to soggy destruction
as he with his channel's icon bravely in his hands
bellows over the raving wind
over the flapping beat of his rain blasted oilskins
bawls forth the unheard to the unhearing
from the rampaging din at the end of the groaning pier
- did it move just now, Vivaldi? we almost want to cry
swiftly unzipping another beer on the sly
and rustling quickly in a packet of salted snacks
as we strain to hear the subtext
in the groaning of the encrusted bolts and barnacles
in the howl of the whirling winds
in the absence of seagulls
in the sea spray's relentless crash
in the fracturing of planks
in the rope squeals and chitterchatter of the stacked racks
of deckchairs - unstacking before our very eyes
canvas frayed and flailing
Vivaldi failing
suddenly sinking with a flickering fairy light exit
an end of the pier bandstand exit
a blurring exit
and just for a moment
almost coming back again
but now definitely gone
gone in a gregarious rush of white noise
an exploding crescendo of photons
a shower of music from the stars...

c) Gwilym Williams (2008)

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