Sunlight by Seamus Heany read on the rooftops of Paris
“Here I am” with my love thinks a nameless figure.
Horrible’s only worry now is global warming! This will melt the snow under which he is hiding!
Witches were burnt at the stake in the 1600s. If they died this proved they were in fact witches! “Horrible” fled so he could live to fight against judgements and -isms for another day plus he didn’t believe in an after life.” You get what you get !” thought Horrible to himself under the snow.
Nothing like a shared pot of tea with real cups and saucers to make you feel special.
Joy was leaving for England and Fanny was going away to fight injustice. They planned to meet up on their return but life doesn’t always work out as planned and they seem lost to each other.
Mayibuye is zulu for ” bring back what was lost”. Mayibuyi was so named to hold her family together.
Sometimes we are given too heavier burden in our families and we can only run to the other side of the Earth to hide. Fifi has gone looking for her school friend Mayibuye.Her family stop and wonder where she is and wish she would drop a line if only to say “I am alive”.
The poem by Elizabeth Bishop One Art.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many thing seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is a disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! My last, or
next to last of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities. Lovely ones And, vaster,
somerealmsI owned, two rivers, a continent
I miss then but itwasn’t a disaster.
_Even losing you( the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like ( Write it) like a disaster.
Mayibuye heard her father died. She was holding a poem by Dylan Thomas and wept.
And death shall have no dominion
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When the bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the winding of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap into,
And the unicorns evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more shall gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the sea shores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lifts its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
……..Mayibuye still wept for the only father she had and had. Then she thanked Dylan Thomas for writing a poem which spoke to her.
Oh dear me. Mad Cat had a melt down! Don’t we all some days? But the Magpies just kept on warbling.
Nad felt traumatised by his twin who always had the words to blame others for his mistakes. Nad was often the one who seemed to get the punishments! His twin would always come out looking like the saint. His spin on everything led him to be honoured. It seems only Nad could see his true failings and his strong need to be powerful at all costs. So Nad is hiding and hoping he can get free and live his small and ultimately insignificant life.
SO has left the Blues family behind to travel to Leongatha, Gippsland. Little did he know he was heading to Amergedon! However in true optimistic style he carried his poem by Derek Mahon Everything is Going to be All Right He arrived and felt hopeful and then Mother Nature began her storm. All power in the town was lost, near by towns were flooded, trees were falling. SO still felt hopeful that at least he was free from Powerful people’s rules and preferred to await his fate with Mother Nature.
Flow entered herself in the Toorak Village Sculpture Exhibition as it was the only Art Exhibition open in Lockdown town. See;
http://www.toorakvillage.com.au
She carried her poem Who is to go? by M Pizer as a reminder to go out and be in it now. Not wait for tomorrow as tomorrow may never come for her.
“How do we know who is to go,
Who is to leave this world
Suddenly, unexpected or in long pain?
There is no saying who will be with us tomorrow
Or who will be bowed in sorrow.
O, while you are here,
Grasp life with both hands
And pour your passion into living,
For who knows when you or yours
May be snatched away,
Out of the toil and the moil,
Out of our present existence. “
zsnail Play Martin Moore 
Echidna by Moz Moresi 
Edgar by Chris Ingham
40 years on Helmut returns to the site his friend and he cycled to in their youth. Friends still, he clutches the poem Friends, by Anne Orams. He wonders where his friend is now. Is this his swag? Is he also homeless? Helmut will wait and hope that his friend will once again pedal pass and they’ll share another laugh together.
Graffitti Granny 