this Saturday - it clears its debt
for the first World War.
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Thursday, 30 September 2010
Night Woods - and Haiku #275
this Saturday - it clears its debt
for the first World War.
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
Monday, 27 September 2010
Sunday, 26 September 2010
The Wolf on Red Riding Hood - and Her Gran : Plus Haiku #271 (As overheard on the Poetry Bus)
Ably driven this week by Rachel Fox to whom much thanks.
It definitely was the red,
I know what did it. Girls in red?
I've no defence, I'm finished. Done.
(My mum would tell me to "watch out
for girls dressed all in red - they're out
for only one thing, them." Thanks mum,
I'd think, I'll sure remember that!)
And then there were her kinky boots...
(Not mum's, of course. Red Riding Hood's.)
They're guaranteed to work me up,
no sweat. So all in all, she looked
the sort who'd heat up for a bloke
who'd put the frighteners on her.
(Just a touch, that is. Nothing too --
what shall I say? - extreme. Know what
I mean?) So there's me faking it,
like reality's gone out of
fashion while our backs were turned,
not telling her, not letting on --
first this, then that, about her gran.
Warming her up nicely, thanks, and
wondering if I should tell her --
if that would be to shoot one line
too many -- what a goer her
old Gran turned out to be, and how...
when in roars this mad hatchet man
like, well, he's just cleared out Hell's crypt...
So then, I'm out of there, and tout
de suit an' all! And very sweet
it could have been. Still, must stay a
touch positive. Some new chat-
lines came from it: like those big eyes,
big ears and stuff. They should all prove
more grist to my voracious mill.
Roll on the next dame dressed in red!
They're on the war path.
Spanish Grandparents might strike --
and bring Spain to a stop.
It definitely was the red,
I know what did it. Girls in red?
I've no defence, I'm finished. Done.
(My mum would tell me to "watch out
for girls dressed all in red - they're out
for only one thing, them." Thanks mum,
I'd think, I'll sure remember that!)
And then there were her kinky boots...
(Not mum's, of course. Red Riding Hood's.)
They're guaranteed to work me up,
no sweat. So all in all, she looked
the sort who'd heat up for a bloke
who'd put the frighteners on her.
(Just a touch, that is. Nothing too --
what shall I say? - extreme. Know what
I mean?) So there's me faking it,
like reality's gone out of
fashion while our backs were turned,
not telling her, not letting on --
first this, then that, about her gran.
Warming her up nicely, thanks, and
wondering if I should tell her --
if that would be to shoot one line
too many -- what a goer her
old Gran turned out to be, and how...
when in roars this mad hatchet man
like, well, he's just cleared out Hell's crypt...
So then, I'm out of there, and tout
de suit an' all! And very sweet
it could have been. Still, must stay a
touch positive. Some new chat-
lines came from it: like those big eyes,
big ears and stuff. They should all prove
more grist to my voracious mill.
Roll on the next dame dressed in red!
Spanish Grandparents might strike --
and bring Spain to a stop.
Saturday, 25 September 2010
Friday, 24 September 2010
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
The Beauty of the Old Technologies - and Haiku #268
In my recent whimsical post on our five day break to Clevedon (here) I included a threat to return to the subject in more serious vein. Ah, you thought you'd escaped? Not so, this is it.
I had not visited that part of the country -- the English side of the Severn above Weston-super-Mare -- before, and knew practically nothing about it. I am not a great fan of piers, but my first reaction on seeing the pier at Clevedon was one of admiration for its elegance. (My title is not intended to take anything from the new technologies, incidentally.) Later, much later, I would discover that I was in good company, for Sir John Betjeman had said of it that in his opinion it was the most beautiful pier in England. I, however, am sticking to my accolade of elegant. That seems to be to be the most fitting adjective. I was also told that it is the oldest, but have not been able to confirm that. However, all the piers (there are still over 70 in England) were built within a very short space of time and so none are appreciably older or younger than any other. It is, though, England's only fully intact Grade 1 listed pier.
Naturally, Bill -- one of the two friends accompanying us -- and I decided to explore the pier. We paid our dues at the toll house/gift shop and walked out onto the boards. These, we immediately noticed were inset with small brass plaques at regular intervals bearing names and detail. Obviously sponsors of some sort. To one side were information boards, one of which gave details of the pier's construction, and, it seemed to me, partly explained its elegance. (I say partly, because much credit must also be given to the designer for the proportions of the spans.) They
and much of the supporting structure were constructed from second hand railway lines purchased from Isambard Kingdom Brunel. For the spans, the rails, which were U-shaped, were used in pairs and welded together on their open sides as shown in my sketch. Where they were used for fixing they were welded at the base of the U. There are eight of these spans making the pier is nearly 750 feet long.
I didn't discover the full story behind the brass plaques until after we had returned home. In October 1970 the insurance company insisted that the spans be subjected to stress testing, during which spans 7 and 8 collapsed and the pier fell into disuse. The local authority decided that they wanted to demolish it, but a vigorous campaign was launched to save it, supported by Sir John Betjemen and culminating in the sponsored planks referred to above. There are 10,000 of these.
There is very little on the pier. No entertainments. Just a cafe at the far end and one level up. Seats down either side - the backs of which form the only barrier, and so there are notices to adults in charge of children that it would be dangerous to allow them to climb on the seats - as if that is not obvious! It is popular with anglers (of course) and from the very end it is possible to see the new and new old Severn Bridges. On the day we were there the newest (and nearest) showed up dark against the background whilst the further - and older - bridge was catching the sun and appeared through the suspension in somewhat ghostly fashion.
It might have happened
that crossing of The Red Sea
the computers say
I had not visited that part of the country -- the English side of the Severn above Weston-super-Mare -- before, and knew practically nothing about it. I am not a great fan of piers, but my first reaction on seeing the pier at Clevedon was one of admiration for its elegance. (My title is not intended to take anything from the new technologies, incidentally.) Later, much later, I would discover that I was in good company, for Sir John Betjeman had said of it that in his opinion it was the most beautiful pier in England. I, however, am sticking to my accolade of elegant. That seems to be to be the most fitting adjective. I was also told that it is the oldest, but have not been able to confirm that. However, all the piers (there are still over 70 in England) were built within a very short space of time and so none are appreciably older or younger than any other. It is, though, England's only fully intact Grade 1 listed pier.
Naturally, Bill -- one of the two friends accompanying us -- and I decided to explore the pier. We paid our dues at the toll house/gift shop and walked out onto the boards. These, we immediately noticed were inset with small brass plaques at regular intervals bearing names and detail. Obviously sponsors of some sort. To one side were information boards, one of which gave details of the pier's construction, and, it seemed to me, partly explained its elegance. (I say partly, because much credit must also be given to the designer for the proportions of the spans.) They
and much of the supporting structure were constructed from second hand railway lines purchased from Isambard Kingdom Brunel. For the spans, the rails, which were U-shaped, were used in pairs and welded together on their open sides as shown in my sketch. Where they were used for fixing they were welded at the base of the U. There are eight of these spans making the pier is nearly 750 feet long.
There is very little on the pier. No entertainments. Just a cafe at the far end and one level up. Seats down either side - the backs of which form the only barrier, and so there are notices to adults in charge of children that it would be dangerous to allow them to climb on the seats - as if that is not obvious! It is popular with anglers (of course) and from the very end it is possible to see the new and new old Severn Bridges. On the day we were there the newest (and nearest) showed up dark against the background whilst the further - and older - bridge was catching the sun and appeared through the suspension in somewhat ghostly fashion.
that crossing of The Red Sea
the computers say
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
Tanka Time Again
he'll baptize any alien.
Beings all have souls,
says the Pope's astronomer-
But first they must request it.
Monday, 20 September 2010
Tanka Time
hearts and names carved on your tree
are thought too passe now.
Instead, fix padlocks to your bridge
then throw away the key.
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Last Orders on The Poetry Bus - as was!
Totalfeckineejit emergency relief driver for this week, has asked us along for a ride through the last of the summer's wine. Glad to join the merry throng. At least, that is what I thought I'd read on his blog, but nw I'm reading something v ery different on Delusions of Adequacy. Seems there's been another change of driver. Too late, friends, the die be cast. Here, for better or for worst, my contribution.
Last Orders
Summer's called Last Orders
and lined them up for us:
three of her finest rose-
heads blown off by the wind.
She laid them on the earth
we carried them indoors
to drinking tables, there
to set them in a bowl,
floating on clear water -
our tributes to a life
that's passed or passing on.
They're on the house we hear,
and to remember me.
The bushes still have buds
and flowers still bright red -
more bottles on the shelf.
Maybe tomorrow we...
For now we'll drink ours down
for soon she's calling Time!
Friday, 17 September 2010
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Watercolour : Wisley Gardens
A bit of an experiment, this one. A view of the Royal Horticultural Society Gardens at Wisley. Watercolour.
Haiku #264
Out of action again folks - cataract operation. Best I can do for now!
They affect your brain
as if you were watching porn --
money-off offers.
as if you were watching porn --
money-off offers.
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
Monday, 13 September 2010
Sunday, 12 September 2010
The Poetry Bus -- and Haiku #260
(Not sure about this - only just gotten around to it. Dragonfly asked for a poem on a colour.)
Yellow
Most likely colour to disappoint
when decorating a room
but get it right, it will lift your heart --
the colour of sun and moon.
Most likely colour to disappear
in some of its manifestations.
Some hues will fade as flowers in spring
but amber outlasts our adorations.
A colour to savour, a colour that smiles,
a pigment to mix with the brightest and best --
as autumn does, as oranges do.
A beauty of nature, made manifest.
There are yellows more luscious than purples on popes
when adorning the female form
and blessed is the soul that wakes to its light
when it bathes the whole world at the dawn.
There are flowers like the jonquil --
a powerhouse, you'll find --
so blushingly bright...
even seen by the blind.
Frenchmen admitting
themselves a shade below par --
that's in the bedroom
Yellow
Most likely colour to disappoint
when decorating a room
but get it right, it will lift your heart --
the colour of sun and moon.
Most likely colour to disappear
in some of its manifestations.
Some hues will fade as flowers in spring
but amber outlasts our adorations.
A colour to savour, a colour that smiles,
a pigment to mix with the brightest and best --
as autumn does, as oranges do.
A beauty of nature, made manifest.
There are yellows more luscious than purples on popes
when adorning the female form
and blessed is the soul that wakes to its light
when it bathes the whole world at the dawn.
There are flowers like the jonquil --
a powerhouse, you'll find --
so blushingly bright...
even seen by the blind.
themselves a shade below par --
that's in the bedroom
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