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Humanity’s Mark

Been reading this book,

It’s pretty informative.

And it inspired the following poem…

Along with this little guy…

            Humanity’s Mark

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My youngest child, holding his newest toy,

Up overhead, like a talisman: a soft doll

Sewn in the shape of a turbaned genie, 

Pronounced his wishes would the words

Only carry the power of the fable. 

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“I would have Geniousious – its given name –

Kill Putin, and make it not be able

To have any animal in danger of extinction.”

A sad assertion for a six-year-old.

Which sunk my soul deeper into my bowels.

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From reading an outline of human history

From the fall of the Roman Empire to 

The fall of the Third Reich, I could 

Summarise the centuries of papal succession

Crusaders and invaders swaying

To and fro, back and forth over the soil,

Staining with flesh and blood the Earth,

Sweeping millions to their massacres,

In thrusting, thirsting, for supremacy, 

In short sentences: shit happened 

That never should have, had we only

Stayed on the savannah with mere spears.

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The bastard causing my son such sadness

And the statement bringing me to tears

Is just the latest in a long list, I insist:

He is not alone. Regardless of their tone

The rest of the pantheon are playing

As if the planet is actually replaceable 

Or simply a stepping-stone to the next

Star system they can subjugate.

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Too late to save those of the second wish

From their fate: the genie would have to

Hold the secret of time, to travel back

To the time of tribes seeking new lands,

Stop seafaring, sledding, steel science…

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The systems we created to control

Have slipped from our own, and seem

Destined to deliver us back our destiny:

We shall stumble, back to our beginnings

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As just another species on a rock

Awash with water and organic molecules

Transforming from one shape to another

As all are eaten, even the ones with weapons,

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Until our form of life dies out, along with lots

Of other sorts, and some others evolve, I surmise, 

We shall suffer, I am grieved to say, son, for

We are already, sliding, and, Jesus wept,

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Seem inept at dodging, not just bullets aimed at us,

But oncoming steam engines of our own devising,

From far off with a blinding light beckoning at us.

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We sleepwalked into a new disease creation,

Let it clutch enough of us so it shall cling on

Like a long list of poxes yet to appear, but near.

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The heat waves and fires washing over white houses

Have had no effect on our behaviour any more

Than the waves of refugees fleeing from its results:

Even now the crisis erroneously seen as rideable 

Rather than a rising tide set to swamp. 

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The swimmers so far stamped upon by standers, yet, 

Littering the sand, shall pile up like plastic:

Become numbers on an ever longer set of statistics,

Of deaths, in the desert resulting from our

Immoral immigration legislation, letting

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Famine fell far more than the virus, multiples

Of anything we’ve seen over the millennia

Of Mongols and Huns and Hitler’s gas and guns.

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The lessons of History seem serving only to

Prepare some for the suffering to come:

Send us into the trees yet green to gather up

The tiny glories all around us while we can;

Create a wealth of memories with one another which

Might help us weather better our dour destiny,

Hoping we’re able to die a natural death

From mere bad health before it all dissolves.

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And if there’s a third wish left upon the table,

Let it be this: that my children stay off such lists,

And choose to spread ideas instead of seed:

Leave poems, not progeny, for words 

Do not suffer such as sentient beings shall.

July 2022.

I haven’t even finished reading the book…

This is the page I am on now – coincidentally in a chapter on the Spanish Civil War….

I read this headline today in my local newspaper. It translates to “the Navarra shop owners are against Sanchez’s measures to save energy. Some foresee insecurity if the shop windows have no lights after ten pm.”

The photo caption reads “Complaints about the heat in the market.”

This photo here is some storm clouds gathering over the dry dry (and, as you know, quite extensively burnt) landscape I stare out over every evening as I sit and write.

I’ve posted this photo because there is a fucking storm brewing. The actual storms come stronger than ever, and they do little to help the thirsty land compared to the rain we used to have in Spain.

But also, it’s very beautiful.

And soon enough we might only see beauty up above the landscape, because the landscape will cease to be beautiful by itself.

That newspaper headline tells us how quickly that might happen…

We can not even turn down the AC. We can’t even agree to turn off the lights, the ones that aren’t even being used… (I wrote a poem about that, actually, which I must post some time.)

And that’s to just lower energy use by 15% so we can help the rest of Europe, which will have a colder winter than we will in Spain.

In a war.

How can we hope to avoid the worst of Climate Change in light of this kind of stupidity?

I, as you can see from the poem, fail to have much hope at all.

Universal Connections

 

 

Universal Connections

 

I sit upon a hotel terrace,

Gazing out at grebes

Diving between white and yellow

Water lilies, trying to grasp our universe.

 

This Dark Matter they say

Gives gravity to our galaxy

Must mingle with us here on Earth,

Else why do I feel such linking

With other species, the lake life teeming?

 

I am entwined with these trees

More than merely exchanging molecules.

 

Reincarnation is reality. A part of me

Exists outside myself, with which I can commune;

 

Fragments of my former lives abound in this pond,

Fine portions of prior bodies populate the forest.

There’s a strand of me in that serene swan

Stately sliding, signets drawn behind like magnets.

These geese gliding in on the twilight and I

Share atoms. The stones under our feet,

Still throb with the vitality of ancient seas;

Our electrons once spun in the same shells

And yet retain the memory of those orbits.

 

Since the energy of starbursts vibrates on in ourselves,

These connections are impossible to erase,

We are one: our earth, the stars and empty reaches,

Really only fractals of an elementary existence.

 

 

I wrote that a couple of months ago while staying in this hotel, having breakfast on this terrace. Just to show there are positive poems going round my head too!

IMG-20180528-WA0003

It was in the Netherlands, and the lake was man-made, created when dredging to make higher land elsewhere in town. The motorway went past behind those trees, but it was still wonderfully quiet and peaceful, and the waterfowl didn’t care how their home was made. It shows that nature can come back strong when given a chance, even in the midst of our habitations.

Here’s another in the same vein, one of a few I was inspired to write that week…

As you can see from the photo at the bottom, it’s hard not to be inspired in that light.

 

Twinned with an Egret

 

They say every electron has a twin;

In space and time, while even atoms

Exist in two separate places at once.

Well, that would explain this affinity

For egrets and owls and willow trees.

Motes might not have the energy to

Escape gravity, but bits of bodies split:

My twins vibrate in other entities.

 

IMG-20180528-WA0017

 

On Your Bike, Jeremy Clarkson

 

I am delighted to read that Top Gear have dropped Jeremy Clarkson.

I know that Jeremy, deep down, as Russell Brand says of such people,  is a beautiful soul, but is just misguided, yet I don’t think I could spend much time in the same room as the guy. Apart from his obviously reprehensible behaviour of late (and of not so late, as I talked about before)

, his program (and I say his because that’s the way most people consider it) is just not my cup of tea.

Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Jeremy.

But of course, it’s a revolving door. He’ll be back, grinning, on some other channel soon enough.

But it’s still a great day. An important day.

Why?

I’ll tell you.

But first, full disclosure: I am not a top gear fan.

I am also very happy that “fellow presenter James May has hinted that Clarkson, Richard Hammond and he “came as a package”.” I truly hope that it is indeed, the “end of an era.”

A better, brighter, more just less bigoted era might just replace it. One with fewer fucking cars, too, wouldn’t be half bad.

Aside from the fact that glorifying cars is not necessarily the best way to change society the way it needs to be changed, I just don’t see the draw/ appeal of a program talking about cars.

Cars are boring.

I mean, I have a car.

I need the car.

Not every day.

my bike

For most of my commuting, I have the lovely bike you see in the photo. It is proudly sporting the new 2015 membership sticker of WWF, my favourite charity helping keep some species from falling over the bring of the Sixth Extinction that climate change among other things (caused by cars among other things) is causing.

It’s a nice car. A Honda Civic.

But one of the things that galls me about Top Gear is the way they take the piss out of small cars with more fuel-efficient engines…

My daughter laughed the other day when she saw a Smart Car. “Look at the little car, Daddy. It’s funny.” she said. But she’s three. She knows nothing of energy conservation and traffic congestion. Grown men should know better.

Of course, grown men should also know not to be racist. Whether they are on the television before millions worldwide or not.

But getting back to cars being boring…

What most car enthusiasts don’t seem to understand is that cars are not cool.

Not even fast ones.

Only to other car geeks.

Yes, car enthusiasts are just another kind of geek.

And I can tell you, I know about geeks.

I write poetry, for god’s sake.

I have always loved reading and writing.

I used to keep budgies (that’s parakeets to you yanks.)

I used to show said birds in competitions.

Train spotting is no different to car spotting, really. The guys who think rockets are cool, and spacecraft, and astronomy, and comics, and science fiction movies, are more or less of the same ilk as those who bore me talking about how fast a car goes, how many cylinders it has, what the difference between horsepower and torque is…

I’d rather watch a gardening show. That’s my kind of geek.

 

Nevertheless, there are millions of car geeks. Who watch this programme.

So here’s why this is important news….

Over the last few weeks a lot of people said it would not happen.

But it fucking did…

And that’s important because the reason those people would have bet money on Clarkson getting away with it yet again is because the franchise was worth so much. Too much money involved. Can’t afford to lose the cash cow that is Top Gear and its syndication throughout the globe.

But the BBC, or whoever it is there who’s important enough to make these decisions decided that the money wasn’t as important as the moral right. Clarkson might make the BBC a load of dough, but sometimes money can’t justify things that we know are wrong – even though we see examples everyday.

So… if we can potentially lose money by doing the right thing in this instance, why not do the right thing in other instances?

The US could make lots of money from the Keystone Pipeline. But they don’t need it so bad they want to deal with the potential disaster of a leak, or the global climate change it will help intensify.

Fracking is a big source of revenue for states and towns, and the big powerful fossil fuel companies that do it, but having water we can drink without dying is more important.

Exxon Mobil and other such companies make billions in profits and hand over some of that to the politicians that grease the wheels. But reducing climate change is going to affect negatively millions more people than the few fat cats who will use their money to buy up real estate in Greenland while we all boil (or freeze in Europe, when the gulf stream stops).

 

There is no good reason we can’t do the right thing in these cases.

In some cases they already are. Because people clamoured for it.

We just need to keep clamouring.