Tag Archives: owl

Day 14 — one kinda torch + anudder torch

I’m reading books about reading this month (OMG so meta, so fun) & an element repeatedly brought up is not wanting to turn the light out on a book that’s thrilling you & sneak reading under covers. It affects readers across the spectrum. So I thought I’d attempt a poem exploring my experience of it — in a short lined conversational style similar to the YA verse novel I’m reading (Inside Out & Back Again by Vietnamese American poet Thanhha Lai). 

This then very quickly lead to an interesting Factoid about the other kind of torch you probably think of when you think torches & stories of the 76 Montreal Games Olympic flame going out & needing to be relit with a cigarette lighter of all things (haha). When I sought verification of this story from other sources, I came across a home grown torch story I’d never heard of. One that was even better.

*****

light’s (sorta) out

being an owlish teenager 
in a cock-a-doodle-do household
meant getting creative
to ensure the reading got done

i secretly saved pocket 
money for several weeks 
pretending i’d always spent 
slightly more than i had

so on one after-school shopping
spree i was able to procure
a small hand held torch
without mum observing 

unfortunately my maths
illiterate mind hadn’t 
factored batteries 
into the equation

but a fortnight or so
later i had the power
to continue the story
even after the official edict

light’s out always came too soon
however now i could resume 
adventures after a discreet
interval  either under covers or above

soon realised batteries don’t last 
long when used often  & so 
a rechargeable system was 
acquired in similar fashion

& sure — there were 
occasional altercations
between parent & progeny
shouting matches & such

about sleep  v  school yet  
the system was extremely 
efficient   & the illicit joy 
it delivered   immeasurable 

~

there are many fine things
to being an adult (& several 
that totally suck) — but leaving
lights on as long as i like.  wow.

LEDs will last forever   & so 
i drift asleep  book in hand, 
finger in page, glasses still on
dream for as long as needed

then   wake up   & resume 
from wherever i’d wafted off 
my teenage self & my flabbier
celled successor  both agree 

— this is living

*****

Day 14 Factoid – torches of all kinds

true Olympic spirit

in 56 : a future vet
presented a fake torch
— made of a chair leg 
painted silver : still wet 
a plum pudding can : 
& a pair of : burning 
jocks : soaked in kero —
to the mayor of Sydney
who proceeded : to speechify
while the protesting
prankster : slipped 
silkily : into the crowd
& away
             the following day
just before : taking an exam
his peers rose to their : feet 
applauding : their approval

the results of that test
are : less triumphant

Day 06 — collecting books + obsessions

Collecting is a strange thing. It’s sometimes hard to explain why one does it. For example, I like things to do with chickens. So I have prints, statues, sculptures, plates, even a pair of bookends featuring chooks.

So too with books. I have many diverse interests (more specific than just big genre-size categories: fantasy, science-fiction, historical, crime, or non-fiction like science [itself having many subcategories I collect: physics, the universe/astronomy, nature/biology, the elements, etc], history [WW1&2, British/Australian, Palestine/Israel, etc], politics, travel writing, & so on) or the work of specific favourite writers that I must own everything of theirs they write.

Sometimes I acquire small collections about topics I think I might one day write about. Thus I have numerous books about Gold, Winemaking, Christmas, Lighthouses, Chocolate, & so on.

But then there’s sets of books I’m simply compelled to buy. No matter how awful they might be. Even if I’ll never read them. Simply because they fall into one of my Pet Loves categories. They make up the matter for this poem.

The first quote that I saw upon googling for my Poetic Factoid broke me. I knew I couldn’t improve on it. Thus what you get today is pretty brief … but I hope I’ve been a little creative with its form.

*****

collectabilia: pet loves

Foxes, Wolves, Owls, Crows, Ravens
any book with these words
in the title must become mine 
   (several, several times)

Cornwall
sirensong, family ancestry, Famous Fivery
long ago looking at Land’s End in an atlas 
& wanting to watch the sun set over the sea there

Venice
love affair with a magical city
began long before i ever travelled there
spent more time in fictional Venice than La Serenissima herself

Heron
less common to come across these 
but treasure every quirky title concerning
my gangly soul spirit animal

Hare
love their wild solo madness 
many of these titles are delightfully illustrated
children’s books — which is okay by me

Booker winners
an ever growing bookcase 
chronologically filled with annual shortlistees
& winners — I’ve even read some of them

still there’s many more: Dogs, Dandelions, Bees, 
books on Eden Valley (not the one I live in
but the English one I’d like to live in)

to be honest — the list probably never ends 
just diverges into smaller 
& smaller subsets

of one

*****

Day 06 Factoid — Is book collecting is an obsession?

Jeanette Winterson wrote “Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it.” Discuss. 

Ummm, 

what
               Jeannette
                                         said!

Day 02 – twilight (& touristas)

02 twilight

No longwinded introduction needed tonight.

*****

twilight: autumn roll call driving home

in the 25 dusky kilometres
between work’s end
& my welcoming door
i choose the slower route
the winding back way
through hills

by so doing, i glimpse three
glitteringly furred foxes;
half a dozen twitchy roos;
two scraps of darkness
reveal themselves as bats;
a crossing echidna forces brakes;
& a stealth owl i can’t identify
skims the windscreen
in an unwise game of chicken 

& although these are all
common enough creatures
for my part of the earth
every one ticks the box
inside my greengrass heart
labelled TINY THRILL

 

 

BONUS POEM: April 2, 2018

Wandering round Rome’s big Roman attractions (the Flavian Amphitheatre, Circus Maximus, Palatine Hill, the Forum) has been somewhat surreal. I loved classics since a kid; read countless histories & fictions set there, that to experience them firsthand was bliss (despite the blisters, boom, you’re welcome).

But this is the subject of a separate poem. What you get today is somewhat lighter & more whimsical 😬.

*****

Selfie Schtick 

something about me
clearly implies trust
(or an ability to fake it
photographically)

for today, on top
of Palatine Hill,
i’ve been requested
to supplant
the selfie stick
almost a dozen times

i quickly developed
my own schtick
by the second request
— a trio of American
boys who laughed
at the result

which of course
meant the joke
grew with exposure
till its inevitable
demise with a Russian
(perhaps) family 

who failed to see
the humour in having
one photo of my face
& two blurry ones
of their own four
(so poorly framed
owing to gross self
congratulation with
my cheekiness)
i neglected to include
the Vatican
in the background

02b-view-from-palatine-hill.jpg