The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
Thursday, 28 February 2013
An Infant Non-Sequitur
It was my finest castle ever,
commanding views all round,
the moat left dry by order of
my infant client with the secret plans.
But that was then.
As I recuperate from my exertions
in the hot sun (of late October)
he is busy knocking down
and building up
and changing bits. The drawbridge
and the ramparts, for example, have become
a new kind of Spaghetti Junction --
just one part of his vast
expanding grid of motorways
that threatens the whole beach.
On the highest stretch of the spaghetti now,
a hole. Roadworks! he calls -- and from
his bag takes several toy cars. Eight in all.
With them he forms a queue before the hole.
They stretch back over the long span -- at least,
some seven of them do. The eighth one will not fit.
He tries to push it on behind the seventh car.
The first rolls off,
falls into the hole.
He replaces them, each one with care,
each to its former home
and tries again, but this time from the road works end.
The last car in the queue rolls off.
Again they are replaced.
Not to be defeated, now he moves them from
the centre of the queue, creates a space in which another car will fit. But both end cars have fallen off.
He looks at me,
The bridge is far too small! he calls
It's only big enough for seven cars...
his voice tails off.
What will you do then? I inquire.
Make it longer, dad, that's what...
He looks imploringly, but I'm asleep.
I see him measuring the bridge extension now.
He's making sure it's one car length. No less.
No more. But now, before he tries again
he takes a ninth car from his bag - and still
the queue can not be fitted to the bridge!
Dear reader, you may now return
to the first line. For your second reading, please
up any number that you meet, by one!
Written for the prompt at Poetry Jam in which Peggy invites us to think in terms of a logical non sequitur.
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haha...well it was a nice castle til the next gen got ahold of it....now its a freeway, getting ever wider to keep us going somewhere, but where? we have knocked down all the castles....repeat...repeat.....repeat....cool end man....
DAD, DAD .. wake up!! It's only a dream .. wake up!!
I like the way the ending reflects a child's never-ending play... it could go on and on.
Love those times in fantasy land.
Ah, the never ending story. Enjoyed that.
Lets try with proper spelling this time:
And like a lot of logic, non-sequitured or not--it's a castle made of sand, ever adapting, never quite fitting its purposes, bound to be washed away but here, fun while it lasts. Delightful, David.
Excellent, start and carry on, i love this idea. well done
Ah,yes this could go on for quite a while. I enjoyed this, Dave.
A child reflecting on reality? :-) This is exactly how we traumatise our children. :-) I'm sure that queue materialised in real life when you left the beach that day.
Great poem. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Greetings from London.
hehe sand adventures are great =)
A father's work is never done. And here, I grieved a little for that work - I much prefer castles to motorways...
ha..it always adds up...very cleverly done dave
A metaphor there, perhaps: the next gen. knocking it down for more motorways? Wasn't in my mind to begin with. Thanks for the thought.
A day dream, my dear, a DAY dream!
It did go on and on for quite a while!
Ah, yes! If only...
Thanks. Good to know.
Yup, that about sums it up!
Thank you very much. Appreciated.
Agreed. Yes. Quite a while!
A Cuban in London
Well, actually, no. It was October, the temperature soared, but apart from us the beach remained deserted. We had it to ourselves. Ditto the car park and the road home. We never were able to repeat the experience!
So is sleep when the day is warm! Thanks for.
The Elephant's Child
Me too! I think he still prefers motorways, though!
This is actually Dani's prompt and I already feel bad for making changes in her prepared draft. Anyway I love the illogic of a child you have portrayed here! The bridge will always be too short indeed! And Dad sleeps on!
So sweet: takes me back to the early lego years, when I watched in fascination the superfast en/distanglement of red, bue and yellow structures.
Spagetti junction - would it translate into Beltway Tangle or do they have a word for it across the Pond?
Very clever Dave! Reminded me of days of playing in the sand with my kids. Rinse, rebuild, repeat :-)
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