Snails & Slugs (3)

Nudibranchia

The Florida Regal Sea Goddess
the Gold-Line Sea Goddess
the Gold-Crowned Sea Goddess
the Purple-Crowned Sea Goddess
the Purple-Spotted Sea Goddess
the Black-Spotted Sea Goddess
the Red-Line Blue Sea Goddess
the Red-Tipped Sea Goddess
the Harlequin Blue Sea Goddess
and the Brown Sea Goddess
are of the tribe of Nudibranchia.

What dare one say
of so many Goddesses
all going naked
and in one sea?

That this
has feather-like anal gills
and that
has tufts of carata?
That this
is covered with purple spots
and that
is found on Staghorn Coral?
That this
is numerous in Biscayne Bay
and that
hides under coral slabs?

That they all
eat sponge?

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gw2011

Snails & Slugs (2)

Elysia Picta

Painted Elysia
wavy banded sacoglossa
a slug to behold
a rare rainbow ruffler of colours

Her Y-shaped head
crowned like a princess
with blue
-tipped rhinophores

Is completely at home
on the sand
of the shallow patch reefs
or on the patch reefs' rubble

Where her long rhino
-phores are rarely at rest
as they hunt for the algae
she seeks
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gw2011

Snails & Slugs (1)

The Fingerprint Cyphoma

is a one inch snail
found in the seas
off the Florida Keys

but note this Mister Stevens
she gorges gorgonian
including sea rods and whips

and is yellow and cream
with black and gold prints
and is said to be relatively rare

unlike her cousin the West Indian
Simnia who changes her mantle
to match the gorgonian

and is common
but rarely
observed
____
gw2011
image csbrown.edu

Doomsday Scenario (2)

The most famous prophecy of doom must be that written by the writer of the last book in the Bible. The book known as Revelation. In the prologue to Revelation the author claims that God gave the prophecy to Jesus who in turn gave it to an angel (a messenger) who in his turn gave it to his servant John. This John testifies that it is the word of God and the testimony of Jesus.

The angel (or messenger) appeared on the island of Patmos. He had a loud voice described as being first like the sound of a trumpet and then like the sound of rushing waters. He had a golden sash round his chest. His hair and beard were white. His feet were bronze and he had a sunny countenance. The messenger introduced himself thus: I am the living one. I was dead and behold I am alive (...) I hold the keys for death and Hades. He then instructed John to write various letters to various churches.

The letters dutifully written there then came the 7 seals, the 4 horsemen, the bringers of evil, of war, of disease, of plagues and pestilence, and other horrors, a nuclear war and a new Jerusalem scenario and so on. All told by various voices and other devices.

But is it true? Do we say to each other in our angst: it's written in the Bible so it must be true? Or do we examine the facts?

We need only to look at one of the letters to prove the falseness of the messenger and confirmation of the mendacious content of the writer John's outpourings.

In the letter to the Church in Thyatira it is written:

"You tolerate that woman Jezebel who calls herself a prophetess. By her teaching she misleads my servants (...) I will cast her on a bed of suffering (...) I will strike her children dead."

Plainly this message cannot be, as claimed, from Jesus. Jesus as we all know is the one who preaches suffer little children to come unto me.

One of the anomalies of human existence is that persons in positions of power, and scribes and prophets were in those days, are often guilty of the same sins of which they like to accuse their enemies. That this John accuses Jezebel of being a misleading prophetess is a case in point. Examining the letter purporting to come from Jesus we find that John is guilty of the offence of false prophecy. The same crime of which he has accused Jezebel.

The author of Revelation is but another in a long line of prophets of doom hell bent on inciting fear and unrest. It's so easy to prove:

QED

A Christ

Would not murder

A child

_____

gw2011

Doomsday Scenario (1)

There are today more doomsday scenarios than ever. We should make a mental note of them but we should not believe in them.

Astrologer skilled in Mayan techniques offers free reading! states one Google advert. We shall here and now see if that is a good idea!

The dangerous thing is that many of the world's most vociferous madmen actually believe in these superstitions, predictions and so-called revelations and so construct their many and various scenarios and try to work towards them.

One example. The world, or the age, will not end on 21st December 2012 as predicted by the Mayan Calendar. The facts, and history, show that the contrary is true.

A new era of enlightenment, courtesy of the Hubble Telescope, NASA, the Internet, DNA, the Large Hadron Collider, CERN, ISS, etc., etc. is already underway. Millions are taking giant steps away from old superstitions and dogma which have haunted their existences and cursed their lives since the days before they were born.

Away from the prophets of doom another future beckons; one with a smile on her face.

In the following couplets the reader should notice where the full stop is placed and see the significance of that.

The Mayan World°
Has long since ended.

The Calendar
Went on too long
_____
gw2011

°note: Any modern descendants of the ancient Mayans who are using the Long Count Calendar will simply begin all over again on 22nd December 2012. The calendar has nothing to do with doomsday or any other unlikely scenario. It is merely a sequence.

The racks of hammers

Twin racks of hammers racked in blackened wood

above the ingrained rough hewn timbers of the bench

sentries on a grubby limewashed wall

in a splintered place now cold

that smells of coke and chains

of beaten steel and iron wheels

where tortured kings have stalked the wide grey

boards amongst the hooks

the tackled blocks the bolts and cutters

the wire-brushes pliers and chains

the mallets files and blackened rags

long-handled instruments

for stoking fires and handling coals

and glowing blades

now poke from wooden boxes

in this cavern

where the grey man sits in a spotlight's glare

to read his words

to a gathered few

- they leap and point like swords aflame

the water glass

remains untouched

the hammers hang their heads with shame

_____

gw2011

Tree in spacetime

*

AS

FAR

AS I SEE

IN A DREAM

I AM NOW HERE

IN THE NOW AND THE HERE

AS HERE IN THE HERE AND THE NOW

FOR I NOW SEE HOW I SEAMLESSLY AS IT NOW SEEMS

ALWAYS MOVE WITH THE TIME THROUGH THE HERE AND THE NOW

OR

THE NOW AND THE HERE

gw2011

Bahrain

Please enter 'Bahrain' in the blog search box for the poem

Hundred White Horses.

The Bridge

for G E who crossed over it many times

I was there

As a boy

And followed its progress

Observed the erection

Rivet by rivet

Girder by girder

Section

By section

With fingers inched out

Widnes to Runcorn

Runcorn to Widnes

To meet in the middle

Over wide Mersey waters

The arch great and graceful

Has always been green

And strong as clenched hands

An icon

A landmark

Named simply The Bridge

Which men now maintain

By removal of rust

Addition of paint

And widening of space

_____

gw2011

Unsuccessful attempts have been made to name and rename The Bridge (which replaced The Transporter Bridge) as Jubilee Bridge, Silver Jubilee Bridge, Runcorn-Widnes Bridge, Widnes-Runcorn Bridge, or even Halton Bridge. But The Bridge has always stood valiantly steadfast and firm. It refuses to kowtow to bureaucratic officialdom. The proud sign on Runcorn Expressway states boldly and loudly, lest there be any misunderstanding - THE BRIDGE.
Local people will not have it any other way! I was one of those there, a child dutifully waving his flag on a stick in return for half a day off school on the day when royalty came and The Bridge was officially opened. And like most in the crowd lining the route for the one who came late I knew even then that the Bridge would always be and always remain The Bridge.

image: courtesy of BBC.

BARD ON THE RUN

A joy that's shared is a joy made double.
- English proverb.


The 'Bard on the Run' blog has been reinstated.

I disabled Bard on the Run's comments facility several times in the last year or so due to persistent nuisance. They are again available. I hope the spam posters will leave it in peace.

1 1 0 2 2 0 1 1

The eleventh day

Of the second month

Of the two thousandth and eleventh year

My Life in Verse

The jacket of My Life in Verse shows a rocky coast with the sea quietly breaking on the dark and backlit cliffs. I prefer to think of poetry as a peering into the mist. The book, published by Penguin Classics in 2009, accompanies the BBC series.

So what does it all mean? It means that Robert Webb selects the poetry chapter to do with Modern Life, Cerys Matthews tackles Britain in Poetry, Malorie Blackman gives us Searching for a Voice, and Love and Loss is left in the hands of Sheila Hancock. And the four of them have 250 pages to do it all in.

Do they succeed? Let's take a look. Webb, covering Modern Life, gives T S Eliot pride of place. Now, T S Eliot as we all know was born in 1888. We are now living in 2009, or at least we were when My Life in Verse was published. Notwithstanding, the 19th century Eliot graces the 21st century publication with 6 poems. But perhaps we can admit that Eliot actually lived until 1965 and therefore he is allowed by default to be modern.

Maybe modern, for the wo/man in the bankomat queue, began with the invention of the Internet, or when Neil Armstrong sang his poem from the Moon? I won't even wonder what the likes of Rupert Brooke have to do with modern. Brooke, born even before Eliot, left his mortal coil as long ago as 1915. Allen Ginsberg, he is in anybody's book an observer of modern life, was allowed only 2 pages from Howl.

My Life in Verse is already beginning to remind us of The Nations Favourite Poems, that Griff Rhys Jones offering from 1996 which curiously featured the favourite poem by proxy, for the simple reason that the Nation voted Kipling, Tennyson and De La Mare onto the podium. But then, when all is dusted and done, the BBC is simply being the BBC when it comes to defining our taste in poetry.

Cerys Matthews had an easier task. Britain in Poetry is not a difficult category to fill. W B Yeats with 9 poems, Dylan Thomas with 7 poems, and Robert Burns with 5 were the standard bearers. A poem from Seamus Heaney, another from Patrick Kavanagh, a couple from Ted Hughes and so on. No risks. No pack drill. Louis MacNeice got in with Snow.

Malorie Blackman filling the void known as Searching for a Voice journeys from William Blake to Hilaire Belloc via Emily Dickinson (4 poems), Langston Hughes (7 poems) and Ogden Nash (5 poems). A curious mixture of styles and topics. A search for a voice it is...

Finally when it comes to Love and Loss Sheila Hancock turns in large measure to the usual suspects; think Shelley, Keats, Tennyson, Dickinson, Wordsworth, Rossetti, Shakespeare's Sonnets (29, 30 and 73). Elizabeth Barrett Browning, of whom Virginia Woolf said "her only place in the mansion of literature [...] is downstairs in the servants' quarters" is with 5 poems the Hancock star.

My Life in Verse is a journey through poetry along a main road. The signs for the less-known attractions are in the main ignored. It was an opportunity lost.
_____
gw2011
My Life in Verse
Penguin Classics hardback
ISBN 978-1-846-14187-4
18.99 GBP

One night

in the trees
the wind was
a train crossing fields

and somehow
they heard the call
of an owl

_______
gw2011

Taxi

on the corner
of the cobbled street
at night

reflections
angles
tricks of light

approaching clicks
of quick
stiletto heels...

________
gw2011

This meditation was inspired by yesterday's photo of a street corner in Norwich (at George Szirtes' blog).

The Spree

Hunched over the rod an angler drew on a cigarette
and we gave three blasts of our horn
and growled backward into the river
to turn and point our nose at the Allianz Tower
the weeping willow soon brushed past
had lined the Spree but then to Janowitz Bridge
through derelict brick and colourful paint
to find there enveloped in clouds
of perfumed smoke
now and then dispersed by erratic breezes
the elderly man, the bus passenger from Sauerland
chain smoking furiously
using his brassy foldaway ashtray
removed from the depths of his raincoat pocket
as and when needed
the cruiser's decks were spotlessly clean
and the sloganed brick cried out for us to
PULL THE PLUG and
SAVE THE ICE FACTORY or
BOMB THE PLANET
before we entered West Berlin

_______
gw2011