|
::the accidental elephant::
::Members::
::Recent Entries::
::archives::
::sign our guest book::
|
Tuesday, November 29, 2005 Geoff thinks & thinks Geoff the mosquito Big Bang Questions  Why did the Big Bang bang so big? And what on earth did it bang from? What was it blew up and flew far apart? And what caused that cosmic firestorm? Where did it come from, that whatever that banged? And how did it fit into so little room? Where did it go when erupting about? And what was there before it went BOOM? . Suliman  Suliman dug. He broke the ground with slow batter thuds of his spade with no sweat no effort quite effortlessly and made progress through the day. And Suliman never looked away but always added an extra push to his shovel whenever some noise, some bird song or squeal, was heard far off or near to his digging. But Suliman, once, almost turned away to look and stare, quite curious of the fall of new picks digging cascading, an arpeggio of thuds like his but gone astray putting Suliman off his rhythm; their syncopated descent into the earth disturbed him but still, with extra force, he dug and broke that ground of his while others broke their own. Sad Suliman. Disturbed, he rattles his spade at end of day in the back of his van and thinks echoes of the rhythm not his but others and different to his. . Fuzzy Poem  Not a sound nor touchbut feel and hear and list and lost on contours sanded to an unending upwards round and down continual; hear, feel and take the shadow down to wash your face: buzz haze graze whizz onomatopoeia cause lies gaze sighs a shoulder left to take her a handful left to shake her a music fuzzed to wander over ears. .  Hot air balloon, hot air balloonflying as the sun goes down little people hanging tight and waving to the ground. Hot air balloon, hot air balloon staring in my garden clicking photographs and looking without a please or pardon. Hot air balloon, hot air balloon burning in the sky drifting up above my house you are a floating spy! Hot air balloon, hot air balloon will you ever go away and stop spying on my business. Go on, get on your way! (image courtesy of http://www.kidsdomain.com/) Green Tree Frog  Sticky pads stuckWhere does all the money go? This is where the money goes: first to the hand that hands you your shopping next to the till that holds it tight next down the wire to the factory that holds the money overnight. This is where the money goes: in the factory it’s placed in boxes then the boxes are stacked in the back of a van which takes them all to the harbour to get shipped overseas on a catamaran. This is where the money goes: from catamaran to the eye of a storm that sinks the boat and drops each box down into the depths of the deepest ocean crashing on deep ocean rocks. That’s where all the money goes. .  Three cows stood behind a wall and stretched their necks to eat. One pushed and shoved and caught her neck trying hard to beat the other two to a taste of grass while the wire hurt her neck. But the others stopped for a photograph and didn’t take a peck of the grass cuttings piled there at the wall but stood there for the photographer and tried to look their best while the other hoovered-up the cuttings from the lawnmower. And which is best? What one to choose when faced with food or fame? Do you eat the grass or risk that the camera will ask your name? .  Autumn is when the leaves go red and fill themselves with holes and drip out all their greenness into mucky forest puddles. Autumn is when the leaves fly off and leave the trees standing bare and Summer sends a postcard from its holiday in warmer air. Autumn is when the leaves just wait and stay on trees alone and the forest goes black and white behind because Winter’s coming home. Autumn is when the leaves get blown by winds and coated in frost. And isn’t Autumn a bit like Spring? (Although their paths have never crossed…) . Munna watches the spider  Munna, why do you sit there? Ma, I am watching the spider. Munna, what is it doing? Ma, a web it is spinning. Come in now, it is cold outside. A mo’ Ma, the web’s got so wide. Come in now, don’t make me angry. Wait, Ma, lemme see why ’tis hungry. What?! Why, that’s such a dumb question! But, Ma, why so much aggression? Boy, everybody has to eat. Ma, the fly is so wrapped and beat. Munna, do you want your own supper? Ma, the web’s caught a grasshopper! A mosquito named Geoff  Monkey lost his long birthday tail. He wanted good sense to prevail. He asked Munni to pin it up. He wanted a red fairy cup. Tail-tale? Beyond this poem’s scale! ********************* Deemikay found a little pebble. He hoped it would grow or be trebled. But it remained tiny. It remained smooth, shiny. He gave up; went off on an amble.  There was a James Bee from Delhi. Smiling, stirring, stinging J. Bee He posed as a shy spy. He left us high and dry. Got into a brawl buzzin' melee! What present to buy for Christmas? Give ‘em a book! A book’s the thing! It saves the thought of wondering if another gift is right for them. Will bath oils do? This novelty game? A luxury dinner for two in March? A new blue scarf that’s awkward to touch? An empty box or this dull curiosity? A four foot wide ethnic monstrosity? No, these can’t do. The thought’s absurd! And if that’s what counts you count too hard. So, just give ‘em a book. A books the thing. It remains the thought of wandering a bookshop for you.  Wormlike snakingthrough a grid of squares found winding into boxes of almost black and blue. Snakelike sliding lighting up the dark in quiet, rushing faster than a snake bite. Wobbles buzz invisible silent ‘cept when there’s a crackle thunder spark and light and flash.  I am a rainbow monster. I change my skin with a twist of the arm and a shift of light. Look at me one way: I’m blue, red and green. Look another I am grey with pewter stripes on the left and a duck-egg tinge on the right. I am multicoloured. Give me three days and I’ll show every colour there is from the longest red to the shortest purple you know. My body shows electricity sparking from colour to colour from deep blush to violet from jade to another avocado shade from indigo to midnight blue from apricot to an orange made by mixing tangerine and slate. My toenails pearl for half and hour, they change to amber with the light of the sun that shines on golden elbows that switch to pink at night. I am a rainbow monster. I have been told I’m glorious to see approaching. But I have never seen myself when crouching by a mirror in my glory, in my colour. I have a problem you can’t see: the problem is that I can’t see what you see inside your mind. My chocolate arms, my peacock face are invisible to me because I’m colour blind. . Milton's Dinner Milton left the grove of clover A Munni Limerick  There was a munni from dilli. She loved her sweet, silly billi. She made him her model. He became a doodle. Poor, frilly billi from dilli. ___________________ Munni's Friendship Quest  Munni wanted a friend, a friend with whom to play. Friends were just a new trend. She wanted one; no delay. She talked to the parrot. “Will give you a chilli. Will you play with me?” Parrot wanted a carrot. “Let me out of this cage,” He said, “Will play with you. Will stick to you like glue.” Munni gave him a chilli (she was wise for her age) and opened the cage door. The parrot up did soar and said, “Bye bye, Munni.” She talked to the cat. “Will give you some nice milk Will you play with me?” Cat was slightly batty. Knew one could sink in milk. She wanted a fat rat, but her Ma had taught her: Always accept free offers. And said she, “Yes, I will.” Munni gave her a bowl, fresh and white and wholesome milk. Munni sucked her thumb as kitty licked-lapped. Yum! It was good for her soul, this nice milk and bread crumbs. “Will you play?” Asked Munni. “I have to catch a rat.” Said kitty, “Excuse me, I’m sorry.” Munni now was saddened. Her friendship-wish deadened. She climbed the mango tree, saw a spider and hurt her knee. Pulled up her skirt, dangled from a small branch, made up her words: crunch- munch-tinsy-mincy-scrunch friend-mend-bend-punch-blench-clunch. ____________________ The cycle of the water the moment he spit on the ground water in the bottle! stream was only a dream Lake became fuller Raindrop was thinking Clouds know no rules (shui is the Chinese word for water)  Fish that eat fish all eat fish made of fish. Each part of each fish is made up of more fish. And each part of each part is made up of more parts that look just like fish made up of more fish. How many fish is a fish made of parts of? How many fish in each part act like fish when apart? And take apart each fish and how many fish remain? A billion raindrops of fish all raining. . Blake & Milton were friends a little Introducing: Munni, The Word-maker Munni is a word-maker. Faker, maker, word-shaker. She says: A word is jadoo. Pooh and mew and flew and shoe. She says: I can make them up. Zup, zoy, zow, rubbadubdub! ____________________ Munna is so curious. Makes his mother furious. She says, "It’s injurious, Unhealthy and spurious. Can make you ambidextrous Also acrimonious. Stay away, Munna. Remain Uncurious.” Munna remains curious, Ambidextrous, ambiguous Says he, “May die in the process But I remain curious.” _____________________ When Levitas met Gravitas  Here’s a photo of a dark room two windows and one door I’ve never been, I’d like to go and look around some more then flick the lights on, take a look then switch them off again then hide myself in corners then count slowly up to ten and jump out and scare the taker of the photograph ‘cause he’s got better things to photograph like giraffes and chimpanzees. And if you look quite closely at the photograph you will see that I’m hiding by the windows. Look for me.  Here’s a photo of some pebbles, a man collected them one day and put them in a pile then vanished them away I don’t think the pile exists nor the pebbles anymore because if they still existed I’d go knocking on the door of the man who took the photo and ask to see them all. And I know he couldn’t show me even if he went and trawled the river by his house where he’d say he threw the pebbles. But the pebbles don’t exist like three-year old flower petals.  Here’s a photo of some clouds. I like to look and make up shapes of people that I used to know in trouble and their escapes from prisons made by bits of cloud and dungeons made of foam and paths that lead from mountains to the safety of their homes. Some people say I’m stupid to look up at the clouds that I would do much better if I wandered about in crowds and spoke to them and mingled and talked about their lives But I know that I’m much happier watching penguins throwing knives. . I went to the river to fetch some water Munni and Munna: I It was an iffy butty day They were told to play and to pray Such a grey ha-hey today Munni ko Munna did betray ___________________ itch and snitch and scratch and stew and hutch and batch and battery rich and dutch and what to do with itching, snitching watery bat and ball and back and fall with one-two, up-to funnily march across the park because you two-step, can’t go runnily cloud and sky and proud and high and flying upwards happilly take a look at peeks and try to count out people quick-i-ly itch and snitch and scratch and stew and hutch and batch and battery catch a cloud and ball and queue of wet folk dripping watery .
“The Turtle was quite pretty,” They said. She was a right enough pretty maid, they said. She painted her nice nails and blew her lips and wore ribbons on her shoe. The Elephant panted after her. She showed scant regard and patted her fur. She purred, “I am not like that, Monsieur.” The Owl meanwhile sipped his wild, wild tea. Scratched his nails and thought about the sea. Ms Turtle fluttered around his knee. The Owl, started, turned around, said, “Gee, who’s she?” __________________________ John said: "One and two and three and five…" "No," said the Teacher standing closer to the hive. "One and two and three and four Four angry bees . Ouch, their stings are sore…"
.  William worries his head is too big William worries his hands are too small William worries one day he’ll wear a wig William worries he’ll shrink or grow tall William worries that his eyes will pop out William worries his fingernails will drop William worries he’ll turn into a trout (William worries about that one a lot) William worries about his home and his bed William worries about his mum and his dad William worries about what’s inside his head William worries about the worries he’s had His worries are the worries to worry about he thinks as he walks down the street. And, worringly, he is in no doubt of the worries he is destined to meet. . Oh, we do rhymes for free No, we don’t ask for a fee Shadowy, funny fingertree There was an owl, wee was he Black as a pea was he Sometimes he drank wild tea Sometimes he went off to sea He bothered his mommy Till mommy had to flee Tu-whit-tu-whoo-tu-wheeeee ________________ the accidental elephant an accidental elephant [So there's a poem. What of an illustration? (perhaps I'll do one later)]
 "African Elephant trying to reach leaves, in Kenya." Photograph taken by Sandra Fenley while on safari. It needs a little stretch Oops! it's not a pine tree, and those aren't needles! Can you imagine it as a pine or fir (or some such conifer)? I had done so, when writing the above poem. A fir (it should be said)  One example of fir is this.It's Rocky Mountain Douglas-fir. The Rocky Mountains are mountains that are high in Colorado. For short, they're called the Rockies. Fir trees are also found in China. It seems likely that elephants do not fancy the needles of pine or fir. Thus in writing my poem I followed a visual impression and reached an erroneous conclusion. Now you've heard my confession.  In 1992, the People's Republic of China issued a series of four postage stamps celebrating the fir tree. I've been looking online for an image of the sort of pine or fir that -- in old Chinese painting -- had (I'd say) elicited my misreading of the elephant's tree. Haven't located a good example. Seeing such trees both in my native California (hence since childhood), and later in olden Chinese paintings (studied especially in college), evidently conditioned my response to the photo (overriding the rational consideration that such trees are perhaps not found in Kenya!; and obviating the photo caption that refers to "leaves" (not needles). All blotted out by images from art & my own life.) Then the sound-play between "It needs" (1st line) and "neeldes "(2nd line in the poem) carried me away. The significance of an "accidental elephant" has not been defined. But here now is one possible meaning. It's an accidental meaning -- arising through mischance (or happy chance) of the sort just stumbled on (or over) in the above. Like a malapropism -- but not a mistake in speaking. A "mistake" in observation that then gives rise to an artistic interpretation. That's one possible meaning for such an elephantine accident. There might be droves of others. An accident of meaning So, even a blog title can take on an accidental meaning (an accidental elephant) somewhat after the fact, but still in the flow. What do you think of that, River? Here, by the way, is a fuller view of the Kenya elephant.
Ladies and Gentlemen and (cough) Children We present For your delight and delectation (drum roll, confetti etc) THE ACCIDENTAL ELEPHANT _______________________
|
::Links::
::Credits::
|
