Tag Archives: birds

Day 17 — reading genes + reading droughts

April 17 is my grandmother’s birthday; she would’ve been 101 today. So I wanted to honour her again by a poem that explores my reading ancestry.

The Poetic Factoid was going to be about the correlation between reading & various genetic traits, until I came across a word in my research & I knew the poem had to be about that.

*****

the genetics of reading

looking back through time
     there’s a definite lineage
          a genetic heritage of literature

my mother’s always been deep
     into crime to which I was a late comer
          her greatest gift to me was green Anne
               the Poldarks surprised me by being 
                    much more than mere bodice 
                         ripping regency romances

— teen me returned the favour by hooking her on fabulous fantasy

mum was clearly given gifts from her mother as both
     delighted in the murders & mysteries of Dame Agatha
          Georgette Heyer & Dorothy L Sayers ; gran even
               read James Bond, Alistair McLean & similar thrillers
                    when younger before migrating to Danielle Steele &
                         almost anything Large Print by the end of her eyes

— wish I could’ve got her opinion on Julia Quinn

grandad was much more factual
     a biographical non-fiction kinda guy
          books on birds & the natural world
               histories  the English language 
                    the bulk of which I inherited 
                         including     naturally  fittingly

— his impressive leather bound editions of poetry 

          it gives me great pleasure sharing 
     these generational reading genes (even if 
my pants are a bit bigger than theirs)

******

Day 17 Factoid — to read or not

A Presbyopian Inspired Drought

the one time in my life 
i’ve read very little 
was for a year or so 
a decade ago when 
every book bored me
when i could not
sit still long enough
to complete a chapter
even a couple of pages
it was aberrant behaviour 
for a life long wyrm 

finally i realised 
the print was blurring
eight to ten inches 
from my eyes — but 
within a month
the magic of specially 
tailored super glass
scientifically ordained
specifically adapted
for my ageing eyes
brought the magic back

Day 05 – fierce creatures — in fiction & feathers

Today’s poem follows on from Lawrence’s maxim from a couple of days ago that it’s better to reread one book six times than six books once. Part of this month’s plan is I’d like to try & get a set of (at least 6) seminal books that’ve played an influential part in my reading journey. This is the first I’ve written (this month at least; drafts of others have been begun previously).

The legacy of this book is I love reading (now) mostly non-fiction/memoir style books of the natural world. A year in the fens, the life cycle of a wood, birdwatchingwatching, etc etc. Those type of books. Note: I’ve played with the layout so you’ll need to click on the image to enlarge the get the full effect.

Today’s poetic factoid was learnt when typing in the term “Australia’s fiercest animal”

Day 5 Factoid – fierce Australian animals

Swooper-dooper

when asked : our fiercest creature
most Aussies would say : it’s neither
crocodile nor shark : koala nor cassowary 

rather the common magpie who transforms :
from harmless hippie collective : singing hymns
round your house : to rabid riots of rage

to be fair : during spring’s
hormonal madness : male magpie’s
testicles enlarge up to 300%

so perhaps we should cut them some slack 

Day 26 — deflecting the wind + the real threat to birds 

Ironically (cynically?) the more savvy climate deniers are changing their modus operandi moving from outright denial to more subtle tactics including — downplaying — deflecting — dividing — delaying — & despair-mongering. I’m working on a poem which attempts to address this, but it’s a challenging (& vast) topic so the poem may yet fragment into more manageable pieces.

That said, today’s poem explores an aspect of one popular type of deflection.

*****

birds of a feather deflect together 

Prominent deniers & numerous tear-jerking memes
express concern for the catastrophic killing fields
beneath the insidious weapons that are wind turbines.

Almost a billion birds are killed annually by these 
concrete & glass monsters/ I’m sorry I read that wrong
those numbers refer to buildings. Let me check the data: 

Ahhh here it is 175 million// Dammit that’s power lines. 
72 million// nope those are poisoned by misapplied pesticides. 
6.6 million perish by// hitting communications towers; 

Hang on, I’m surrounded by too many bits of paper.
The correct one is here somewhere — ahhh, almost 1 million birds 
die in// ah no, bugger, oil & gas industry fluid waste pits.

I’m sure I read it somewhere, just hang on please. Here it is.
Land-based wind turbines kill between 214,000 & 573,000 birds annually.
Not insignificant, but a small fraction compared with the estimated 

 1.4 billion to 3.7 billion bird deaths caused by pet cats
— & I don’t hear shrill claims to close the feline industry

*These numbers are taken from US statistics

*****

Day 26 — TI Reiterate the obvious

the true bird-killer

of course : the inconvenient reality is : climate change : global warming : is the absolute biggest threat : for hundreds of migratory bird species : devastating birds : from every habitat : many of which : are already stressed : by habitat loss : invasive species : & other environmental threats — this is already happening : & will only : continue : to exacerbate : as temps : rise

Day 15 —  FOGhead + radar 

The Festival of Grief feels somewhat lessened this time around. Perhaps partly because I. of the publication of my poetry books last year. And II. Because only one date falls into Na/GloPoWriMo timeframe. And just for today I’m ignoring the Poetic Factoid component to write a second free form poetical sketch.

*****

FOGhead

My foggy head has ached all morning
& I cannot understand why
Grateful outside is a slow still day
The only anniversary this year
As Easter Sunday was the last 
Mad day of a manic March

I sit underneath the sunshine
& hear the multiplicity of birds 
Who share my trees carry on
Countless continuous conversations
Always moving through air urgent
To be some where they are not

Whereas it is my everlasting wish
To be wherever you are when you went

*****

Day 15 – TI Ignored the Poetic Factoid assignment 

interdimensional radar

as much as i want 
to take pain relief
to less the graine

i also don’t in case
it’s caused by you 
trying to get through

Day 1 – slow time in a fast forward age + solitary maw

April is here again & so thus Na/GloPoWriMo 2024. I’m moderately motivated by the month ahead though I always enjoy it, as things kick into gear. 

As late as mid-afternoon, I wasn’t sure what to focus on this year. My themes-based approach to Na/GloPoWriMo which has worked so well over previous seasons will continue — but I wasn’t sure which direction (or project) most appealed. Then it happened. The collection of poems I read today (I always try & read one volume a day during this hectic month) was bought for two reasons: because it had herons on the cover & because the poet is an acclaimed activist/political poet.

So that’s what my focus will be each day — an activist poem (a poem about one of the many issues I feel I should be doing something about, but aren’t). Hence, writing poetry — because we know all how that a few lines of well-crafted verse can change the world.

However, as with last year, I have a project in mind which may depend on the poems not being made public prior to their appearance. So I won’t be posting the entirety of each poem on my blog, but a [hopefully] tantalising snippet (many journals/etc refuse to accept poems even if they’ve just been on personal Facebook pages or blogs with only 100 subscribers). 

As a wonderful compensation for skimpy serious verse, I’ll be repeating my daily Poetic Factoid poem assignment from last year — which I thoroughly loved & from which I got some absolute cracking poems.

*****

bad timing

this crisis is so slow moving — and intimately place-based
a flower blooms early — an insect’s life cycle alters by weeks 
& suddenly birds have nothing — to feed their chicks

*****

Day 1 – TIL more about cool Japanese words

solitary maw

i.
i’ve long suspected the Japanese do words 
better than us — ever since learning electron 
means electricity child — today’s discovery is
Kuchi zamishi which describes the act of eating 
when you’re not really all that hungry 
but because your mouth is lonely
Koo-chi-sa-bi-shē is how it appears phonetically
— & honestly it could be on my family crest

ii.
it’s kind of “peckish” : but not
— less brazen than “stress eating”
— technically you’re not starving : 
but you keep checking the cupboard 
every 7 mins or so to see if something 
new & delicious has somehow
miraculously appeared in abstentia
— only my eyes want it : but 
i’ll eat it anyway : & so food 
silences mouth

iii.
sure we could cultivate awareness 
become mindful when we devour
overcome our unconscious consumption
through gratefully savouring each bite 
as Zen Buddhists do — but honestly
where’s 
    — the bleedin’ fun 
                 — in that 

Day 16 — the honeymoon is almost over

Northing much needs to be said about today’s poem.

the distance between us 

when you fly over it : really is extreme : but we’re talking : more : than mere geography : more than : dry flood plains : & barren dirt : for despite the multitude : of commonalities : we gleefully discovered : initially : it seems : different :: lifestyles : environments : modes of communication : (one of us : is loquacious : overshares ; one only gives : information : when crowbarred out) : risk-taking : bravery quotients : willingness to dream : desires for happiness : even : love levels itself

: mean :

since this morning : our souls tread softly : on the shells of grey : shrike-thrush eggs : crushing all song

Day 12 – poem about home

birdie_01_by_lonegamer7

An hour ago, I sat down & looked at the ideas I’d been playing with & groaned. 

Why at this time of night, do I suffer NaPoWriMophobia: the fear that nothing I’ve worked on all day is worth sharing?

At the end of a regular day, if nothing’s good enough to share, um, well I don’t. (To be honest, it’s a fine line, because sometimes I write something I think is good/has potential, but I don’t want to share it because it might have a life at a competition or in a journal somewhere; & many such avenues frown on public broadcasting even on such a humble thing as a poorly subscribed poet’s blog.)

But then, I typed up half a dozen lines scrawled in my notebook after waking this morning, which grew into this moody piece. Not what I was originally intending to do with it (I don’t think) but something I am more than satisfied, even pleased, with.

nest

woven layers : accumulation : levels of detritus : leaves like slugs : webs pull the corners : closer : a comfortable chaos : treesurrounded : birdnoisewrapped : step over twigs : all wound through : with string : & stolen hair : windrunnels : wingflutter : cavesafe : eggless : empty : arrive : unlock with relief : discard shell : flop onto : feathersoft couch : to rest : regenerate : recubate

Day 12 – The Art of the Tale

I have been reading a few  fairy tales most recently Scandinavian ones from East of the Sun and West of the Moon: Old Tales from the North (1914). This edition is gloriously illustrated by Kay Nielsen.

Today’s poem is breaking more than one of my self-imposed ‘rules’ – 1) it is not a cover image & 2) more than one illustration has inspired it. But given the rules are mine, I figure I can change em as I see fit.

fairy tale

she is the girl who understands
what the birds say when they sing
& if she has bad dreams, pretty birds
snatch them from her & fly away

she is the girl who can move
the moon with her eyes alone
& if her soul feels empty
stars come in close to comfort

she is the girl who dances with fairies
under leaves of endless autumn
& if her true love ever breaks her heart
they will torment him till his grave

she is the girl i loved & lost
once upon a time, long long ago

mooneyes

NOTE: image is a detail of she could not help setting the door a little ajar, just to peep in, when — Pop! out flew the Moon (pg 67) from East of the Sun and West of the Moon illustrated by Kay Nielsen (1914)

(Hour 02) 11.30pm-12.30am — #39 “Those famous steps”

#39

wooden stairs
go down to the beach
& little girls who’ve
just learnt to count
go up & down them
gleefully announcing
how many there are

i am sick with ulcers
& cannot make
the journey myself
so every day
must
descend & ascend
on the backs
of my daughters

welts on my wrists
from the long days
of being handcuffed
to my age

so i watch the birds
from my rear window
avoiding vertigo
yet when the wind
is southerly
i know a hawk
from a heron, sure

OldBingoCard