I'm a manky little monkey
With mischief on my mind,
I want to switch the machines off
And leave their works behind.
Send their operators off to tend
The land that they once raped,
And sit among the floral fields
That nature, not us, shaped.
I have no patience left to wait
For 'them' to make this change,
When so many still say "ooh, no"
And hide inside their cage.
And so I walk on, wrench in hand
And sing towards the sky,
Taking action as it comes,
An (anti)social butterfly.
Monday, 17 December 2012
Friday, 30 November 2012
The true names of sparrows
Bold Investigator turns up first,
When we garden or put out washing,
Watching us just out of reach,
Wary, yes, but not afeared.
Seed-queen's next, the coast is clear,
She's perched close by, the bold one's mate,
Well rounded, sleek of feather,
Precious eggs to make and young to raise.
Meanwhile, Garden Scout's away,
Checking out new places, eyes darting,
For new-found food to tell,
Avoiding cat below and hawk above.
Wily old Four-winters sees,
As many times before,
Where danger lurks in bush and shrub,
Approaches slowly, grey of wing.
Swift young Crumb-prince dashes by,
Unheedful of the feline foe,
But today it's curled asleep indoors,
Morsels safely taken in the beak.
Others follow, a village-flock arrives,
In hopping waves from fence to post and tree -
Peck-your-head who fights and bickers,
Dust-keen bathes and flutters in the dry,
Twig-maiden seeks a nest to fill,
One-foot and half-tail, still alive,
At last the fledglings, as yet un-named,
Taught how to bathe and where to feed.
When we garden or put out washing,
Watching us just out of reach,
Wary, yes, but not afeared.
Seed-queen's next, the coast is clear,
She's perched close by, the bold one's mate,
Well rounded, sleek of feather,
Precious eggs to make and young to raise.
Meanwhile, Garden Scout's away,
Checking out new places, eyes darting,
For new-found food to tell,
Avoiding cat below and hawk above.
Wily old Four-winters sees,
As many times before,
Where danger lurks in bush and shrub,
Approaches slowly, grey of wing.
Swift young Crumb-prince dashes by,
Unheedful of the feline foe,
But today it's curled asleep indoors,
Morsels safely taken in the beak.
Others follow, a village-flock arrives,
In hopping waves from fence to post and tree -
Peck-your-head who fights and bickers,
Dust-keen bathes and flutters in the dry,
Twig-maiden seeks a nest to fill,
One-foot and half-tail, still alive,
At last the fledglings, as yet un-named,
Taught how to bathe and where to feed.
Thursday, 29 November 2012
On Slapton Ley
Long shingle strand, wave-washed bar,
Holds the line and rippled bird-lagoon,
Swans galleon, billowing and blowzy,
Strutting feathered water-knights,
Coots follow, smaller sails black against white,
While close to shore,
A fishing boat arcs past, gull-shrouded,
Nets hauled by men in yellow,
We sit and sift gems polished by the tide.
Holds the line and rippled bird-lagoon,
Swans galleon, billowing and blowzy,
Strutting feathered water-knights,
Coots follow, smaller sails black against white,
While close to shore,
A fishing boat arcs past, gull-shrouded,
Nets hauled by men in yellow,
We sit and sift gems polished by the tide.
Monday, 26 November 2012
The beach-cairn
Beach stones glisten,
Small sea-smoothed quartz and sandstone,
Gravel tide-wet, sunlit,
Some larger, flat and packed in shingle,
Fit one atop the other,
A stepped mastaba,
Braching turrets placed by a steady hand,
Though the smallest slip and fall,
Repeatedly,
Until balance is achived.
The tide returns.
Small sea-smoothed quartz and sandstone,
Gravel tide-wet, sunlit,
Some larger, flat and packed in shingle,
Fit one atop the other,
A stepped mastaba,
Braching turrets placed by a steady hand,
Though the smallest slip and fall,
Repeatedly,
Until balance is achived.
The tide returns.
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
Ode to a water rail
Splay-footed, struts near-silent,
Leaving reeds untroubled,
Elusive but for its piglet squeal,
Broadcast through the evening marsh,
Over coot and goose
And squabbling gulls,
The dabchick ducking, diving,
The moorhen picking, darting,
As starlings chatter into roosts,
But the rail-cry cuts across them all.
Leaving reeds untroubled,
Elusive but for its piglet squeal,
Broadcast through the evening marsh,
Over coot and goose
And squabbling gulls,
The dabchick ducking, diving,
The moorhen picking, darting,
As starlings chatter into roosts,
But the rail-cry cuts across them all.
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
The Joy of Broken Clocks
Battered wooden cases,
Faces scratched and chipped,
Hands bent, or sometimes amputated,
Prone, awaiting operation,
By tools that probe within.
Opening the back to peer inside,
Brass and steel packed tight,
Organs of chronology,
Screw-heads peeking out,
Waiting for release.
First one, then more,
Often stuck and so the driver slips,
Knuckles scrape on metal fittings,
Off comes a backplate,
Mainspring housing freed,
Tempered band spills out like entrails,
Oiled and glistening,
Cogs and spindles tumble, roll and spin.
Armatures hang loose
On disconnected pivots,
Ball-peen tapping pops
Shafts from fine-toothed wheels,
Each item stored
With others of its kind,
Until each time-piece is dissected,
Catalogued and warehoused,
Components sitting dormant 'til re-use
In new creations, decorations,
Bejewelled pendants or contraptions,
Though dismantling is a therapy in itself.
Faces scratched and chipped,
Hands bent, or sometimes amputated,
Prone, awaiting operation,
By tools that probe within.
Opening the back to peer inside,
Brass and steel packed tight,
Organs of chronology,
Screw-heads peeking out,
Waiting for release.
First one, then more,
Often stuck and so the driver slips,
Knuckles scrape on metal fittings,
Off comes a backplate,
Mainspring housing freed,
Tempered band spills out like entrails,
Oiled and glistening,
Cogs and spindles tumble, roll and spin.
Armatures hang loose
On disconnected pivots,
Ball-peen tapping pops
Shafts from fine-toothed wheels,
Each item stored
With others of its kind,
Until each time-piece is dissected,
Catalogued and warehoused,
Components sitting dormant 'til re-use
In new creations, decorations,
Bejewelled pendants or contraptions,
Though dismantling is a therapy in itself.
Peanut Pirate
Mischievous jackdaw,
Black claws grip tight,
Pecks at peanuts,
But wants them all,
Tugging at the feeder,
Winter-hungry,
Beak pulls on wire mesh,
Fragments fall.
Black claws grip tight,
Pecks at peanuts,
But wants them all,
Tugging at the feeder,
Winter-hungry,
Beak pulls on wire mesh,
Fragments fall.
Tuesday, 9 October 2012
Three nerd haiku
Voyager
Mankind's first object
To leave the solar system,
I hope you are found.
Maglev
Bismuth, you can cause
Things to hover by being
Diamagnetic.
Tagish Lake
Nano-diamonds
In space-grit found here on Earth
Pre-date the solar system.
Mankind's first object
To leave the solar system,
I hope you are found.
Maglev
Bismuth, you can cause
Things to hover by being
Diamagnetic.
Tagish Lake
Nano-diamonds
In space-grit found here on Earth
Pre-date the solar system.
Monday, 8 October 2012
First Fog of Autumn
Early one October morning,
Before my usual waking time,
Though diffuse through hard-closed drapery
The daylight differs – I look and see;
Rows of rooftops grey and hazy,
Behind them treetops almost vanished,
Islands in a misty sea,
And so the thought that there might be
One more late day of hidden summer,
Evaporates as does the fog,
Beneath autumnal rays of sunshine,
Boiled away in a few short minutes,
While I sit and muse and drink my tea.
Thursday, 4 October 2012
National Poetry Day 2012
OK, it's October 4th, it's National Poetry Day and the theme is 'stars' - it's also the first NPD since I started The Ellipsiad, and the first time I've tried to write verse to a deadline on a given topic, so here goes...
Orion’s Belt
Alnitak, far triple star,
Supergiant shining blue,
Upon the great Flame Nebula,
Ultraviolet bathing hue.
Alnilam, the middle pearl,
With stellar winds contends,
A constant, bright-white anchor-point
The navigators’ friend.
Mintaka, multiple, eclipsing,
Named Arabic for ‘belt’,
A portent of good fortune,
Our predecessors felt.
Together, ‘Three Stars Mansion’,
In Chinese myths once told,
Or Weighing Beam, or Golden Grains,
Freyja’s Distaff in the cold.
Mule Deer, Pronghorn, Bighorn Sheep,
Say the Seri, Mexico,
Three Marys in Iberia,
Three Kings, Puerto Rico
Yardstick, ellwand, Peter’s Staff,
Three wise-men, each a magus,
An asterism known to all,
On the celestial equator.
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
A husband ill
Dressed in sweat and layered shirts,
My nose it runs, my throat it hurts,
Fuzzy-headed, steel-band brows,
Gravel-eyes, gritpaper sore,
Philtrum red, nose redder still,
Hanky-stuffed, I sneeze and cough.
Can’t stay awake, can’t lie and sleep,
Bring soup and tea – more soup and tea!
Hot stove, hot bath, then off to bed –
I have man-flu.
Monday, 1 October 2012
Three more modern hailku
Gadget
Why do you often prefer
Watching the background?
Internet myth
Justin Bieber born – that’s the
Day the music died.
Connection
Broadband down again,
Company blames rain or snow,
Time to check realbook.
Ode to a deep-sea anglerfish
Doctor Who was fine for me,
I sat upon the sofa-cushions, not hid behind,
Those sea-devils never real,
But ‘Life on Earth’ was where I found
A childhood fear I knew existed,
Black with evil, glaring eyes,
Mouth of fangs downturned and bearing
Glowing lure before its gape.
Watching through my half-spead fingers,
Intrigued but still I did not dare
Until I saw how small they were,
Demon golf-balls in a case.
Phobia turned to fascination,
Books, exhibits, films, the Web,
Etsy selling plush and stained-glass
Melanocetus johnsonii.
Monday, 17 September 2012
King and queen
Inspired by a day in the New Forest...
King and Queen
Moss-boled, fissure-barked,
Veteran of the pollen wars,
Ancient oak stands squat and spreading,
Limb-scars rain-filled
Pools give life,
To facet-eyes in scurry-dark,
Glint - with flick of legs they're gone.
Branches part, mons lignis beckons,
Dryadic welcome, woodland womb,
Born of acorn, cup-borne, potent,
Leaf-crown worn in green on high,
Forest-monarch, sunlight-hungry,
Seedling servants, deep in shade,
Courtiers crawl, and fly, and scuttle
Diverse of leg, of wing, parade.
King and Queen
Moss-boled, fissure-barked,
Veteran of the pollen wars,
Ancient oak stands squat and spreading,
Limb-scars rain-filled
Pools give life,
To facet-eyes in scurry-dark,
Glint - with flick of legs they're gone.
Branches part, mons lignis beckons,
Dryadic welcome, woodland womb,
Born of acorn, cup-borne, potent,
Leaf-crown worn in green on high,
Forest-monarch, sunlight-hungry,
Seedling servants, deep in shade,
Courtiers crawl, and fly, and scuttle
Diverse of leg, of wing, parade.
Thursday, 13 September 2012
To forge a pendant
A little verse about the things I make here and here.
Sunburst hammer-flash, steel sparks fly,
Yellow-hot to cherry-red,
Silver blackens, copper flows -
Mirror smooth the anvil awaits the blow,
Bluing iron from live-wire glow,
Polished face imparts the sheen,
Beaten metal gripped and drawn,
Twisted on a frame,
Racked and pulled and burned once more,
From tongs to hand and back again,
Quenched and cooled,
A jewel is born.
Sunburst hammer-flash, steel sparks fly,
Yellow-hot to cherry-red,
Silver blackens, copper flows -
Mirror smooth the anvil awaits the blow,
Bluing iron from live-wire glow,
Polished face imparts the sheen,
Beaten metal gripped and drawn,
Twisted on a frame,
Racked and pulled and burned once more,
From tongs to hand and back again,
Quenched and cooled,
A jewel is born.
Friday, 7 September 2012
Ben da Man
A little homage to Benjamin Zephaniah...
Ben da Man
Zeph. Odd. Beetlebox,
Wanna go, see da show, innit.
Up. Fire. Mind's eye,
Pinning a time to sign me lie,
Rabbit-rousin' double-taker,
Find, me wire me, hero-chaser.
Lucky wah-wah, play it loud,
Down, clown, man o' wonder,
Loud the sound, phantom ground.
Ragged. Bluff. Entire,
Skankin' skunkin' queen o' jeepers,
Look-I sunward, green-grey sky;
Blow me hair-horn, cloudy spires,
Babble-jar comes scion after,
Highly sorted, finely lost,
Plantin'-can, d'ya make a garden?
McCotton's legacy, a 'wee dram' tossed.
Ben da Man
Zeph. Odd. Beetlebox,
Wanna go, see da show, innit.
Up. Fire. Mind's eye,
Pinning a time to sign me lie,
Rabbit-rousin' double-taker,
Find, me wire me, hero-chaser.
Lucky wah-wah, play it loud,
Down, clown, man o' wonder,
Loud the sound, phantom ground.
Ragged. Bluff. Entire,
Skankin' skunkin' queen o' jeepers,
Look-I sunward, green-grey sky;
Blow me hair-horn, cloudy spires,
Babble-jar comes scion after,
Highly sorted, finely lost,
Plantin'-can, d'ya make a garden?
McCotton's legacy, a 'wee dram' tossed.
Thursday, 6 September 2012
A day off sick
In the garden,
Rug in the sun,
Socks bundled in shoes,
Lemon squash,
Watching the pond,
Reading a book,
And doodling.
Rug in the sun,
Socks bundled in shoes,
Lemon squash,
Watching the pond,
Reading a book,
And doodling.
Wednesday, 22 August 2012
On becoming a jeweller
Hot grit sweat,
Burning metal,
Waft of singed hair, puff of gas,
Blackened fingertips, emery-worn,
Charcoal smudges,
Making sparkles, shining charms,
Becoming a jeweller.
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Three everyday teatime haiku
Inspired by today's visit to the ever-splendid Art House gallery/cafe...
Skiving work today,
Sitting in the ArtHouse caff,
Sipping at my tea.
Morning summer rain
Nearly made me stay at home,
Now there is sunshine.
Inverted lion,
Butterflies, donation tube -
Things in the ArtHouse.
Skiving work today,
Sitting in the ArtHouse caff,
Sipping at my tea.
Morning summer rain
Nearly made me stay at home,
Now there is sunshine.
Butterflies, donation tube -
Things in the ArtHouse.
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
By arch and bower
The Wildlife Gardener
By arch and bower I sculpt my plot,
Tying, twisting, bending,
Watching the growth,
Welcoming colonists,
Under bridges, over water,
A naiads's son, a dryad's daughter,
I plant and trim and sit and watch,
Mostly leaving things to be,
Taking note,
Making progress,
Though it never is completed.
By arch and bower I sculpt my plot,
Tying, twisting, bending,
Watching the growth,
Welcoming colonists,
Under bridges, over water,
A naiads's son, a dryad's daughter,
I plant and trim and sit and watch,
Mostly leaving things to be,
Taking note,
Making progress,
Though it never is completed.
Wednesday, 8 August 2012
On the Wall
Short and abstract, inspired by graffiti new and old...
On the wall
Desire, come test me,
Some of the best things in life come in pairs.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
Forward ever backward never,
Resistance is my gift to the oppressor.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
Bamboo panda, man moth query,
Sorry about your wall.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
An innocent bystander with a knife
Gets killed by a random fool.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
On the wall
Desire, come test me,
Some of the best things in life come in pairs.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
Forward ever backward never,
Resistance is my gift to the oppressor.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
Bamboo panda, man moth query,
Sorry about your wall.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
An innocent bystander with a knife
Gets killed by a random fool.
Rob Bob Jim Roll-up 4 Killa.
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Brain boxes
Brain boxes
If you don’t think,
We’ll be rioting in the street,
Not writhing in the heat;
Just think to the kick of a different drink,
Dance to a drum with an orphan beat,
Draw your own line in the dirt
Then cross it –
Backwards, blindfolded,
Sleeping but seeing,
Laughing, high as a kite if you like,
Knowing,
You’re going
To drink the wine of it,
And grow your mind
On freedom’s vine,
This time.
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Bilingualism
Swahili & English - so far the only time I've tried a bilingual poem...
Utafiti Research
Watoto Children
Na nguo kabichi ya skuli In green school uniforms
Wanafaraha Are Happy
Na wanasema wengi, And talk much,
Wanataka mimi kupiga picha Wanting me to take a photo
- Nakweya gari yangu - I climb onto my car
Kuona wote. To see them all.
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