Serenity bustles by businesslike
Water music accompanies the crowd
Discordant chords sooth the sky
Which turns from colour to silver
To match the glistening notes
All around us
Waves of people; waves of river
In unconscious unnoticing synchronicity
Shafts of light rising and sinking
In time, out of time, eternal histories
Whispered and felt and insistent
All around us
A blog to explore the interests of an original renaissance woman; arts, sciences, poetry, librarianship and everything in between.
Saturday, 4 August 2012
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Titian Poem
Static against the shifting;
Rippled reflections more real
Than reality. Materiality of
changes seen in glass, pearls,
Eyes belying senses choice.
All ideas, bodies, minds in flux
And this for the Twitter version
Static against shifting/Rippled reflections more real/Than reality. Materiality of/Changes seen belying senses/All ideas in flux #titianpoem
Rippled reflections more real
Than reality. Materiality of
changes seen in glass, pearls,
Eyes belying senses choice.
All ideas, bodies, minds in flux
And this for the Twitter version
Static against shifting/Rippled reflections more real/Than reality. Materiality of/Changes seen belying senses/All ideas in flux #titianpoem
Monday, 23 July 2012
Virgin Nature
You can dress it up how you like
That statute of the Virgin under
That symbolic Cross of Roman torture
They look out across the dividing strait
Overlooking the slanted rocks
Formed millennia ago long before us
That's no young Christian god for me
It's ancient, spirits of ages long since Here; as sea beds rose, so did they.
Look, listen, eyes closed, body prone
In the deafening peace of the solitude.
Feel their pulse in the waves, light, sound.
Yes the Virgin stands with flowers there
See her, admire her for her pagan past
She is timeless nature, sublime and true.
That statute of the Virgin under
That symbolic Cross of Roman torture
They look out across the dividing strait
Overlooking the slanted rocks
Formed millennia ago long before us
That's no young Christian god for me
It's ancient, spirits of ages long since Here; as sea beds rose, so did they.
Look, listen, eyes closed, body prone
In the deafening peace of the solitude.
Feel their pulse in the waves, light, sound.
Yes the Virgin stands with flowers there
See her, admire her for her pagan past
She is timeless nature, sublime and true.
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Epic Poets
Oh, you bards of old with your tales
Of changes, voyages and wars!
How easy it is to imagine you
Looking around and listening and taking
Dictation from gods direct.
The sea invites the intrepid,
Rocky inlets to shelter the brave
To moor safely and trees to shade.
Lighting fires for home hearths and gather
Telling eternal stories of might.
The hills encourage the hardy;
Neither shelter nor cave is seen
The loneliness of black speck soars.
Still, the grey scrub offers scented breeze
A perfect stage for those ancient giants
As the sky darkens and storms roll by
Violet flashes illuminate the bay
Where are you now, oh bards of old?
Spin us your threads, carve us your heros
A night like this speaks your thunder.
Of changes, voyages and wars!
How easy it is to imagine you
Looking around and listening and taking
Dictation from gods direct.
The sea invites the intrepid,
Rocky inlets to shelter the brave
To moor safely and trees to shade.
Lighting fires for home hearths and gather
Telling eternal stories of might.
The hills encourage the hardy;
Neither shelter nor cave is seen
The loneliness of black speck soars.
Still, the grey scrub offers scented breeze
A perfect stage for those ancient giants
As the sky darkens and storms roll by
Violet flashes illuminate the bay
Where are you now, oh bards of old?
Spin us your threads, carve us your heros
A night like this speaks your thunder.
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