APRIL

“A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.” -  e. e. cummings

Poets and Storytellers this week has as its theme “October”. That is all very well in the Northern Hemisphere, where it is Autumn, but here in the Southern Hemisphere October is a Spring month and our equivalent autumnal month is April. Hence, with poetic licence, here is my autumnal April poem.

April

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend…

Come, April, my old friend, again
Let’s talk, let us exchange pleasantries.
You bring me gifts - more white hairs,
More experience, my wrinkling face the evidence,
And yet I am none the wiser...

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight...

You watch me, smile and speak not;
April, you always were a good listener,
Hearing out my softly whispered confessions,
The patter of your rain, your grey skies our cover,
Our camouflage, your smile my absolution.

Year after year, my friend you come
Bringing chrysanthemums, rain-clouds
Crisp, frosty nights, woollen days, capricious sunlight.
As Autumn ripens, you herald Winter’s arrival,
And I with each of your visits understand your silences more…

Come friend, let’s drink, and in our cups
Let’s reminisce of days gone by,
Of nights long past, when autumn moons
Shone bright and clear, and we,
We used to walk beneath the frosty starlight…

Ahhh, April,
Welcome, friend,
Ahhh, April!

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

VALE, JANE GOODALL

“We have enslaved the rest of the animal creation, and have treated our distant cousins in fur and feathers so badly that beyond doubt, if they were able to formulate a religion, they would depict the Devil in human form.” - William Inge

This week, the New What’s Up blog commemorates the life and death of Jane Goodall, a primatologist and anthropologist who dedicated her life to studying primates and advocating conservation and climate action. Here is my offering.

Talk to the Animals

To treat each living thing
As if your life depends on it
Is a hard task, and few of us
Try to live by such a rule
And hope to succeed.

Living, respecting nature,
Trying to leave this world
A better place than what you found,
Is a life-long commitment
And one peppered with failures.

To live your life in harmony
With what’s around you:
Trees, animals, lakes, streams,
Sea, fish, air and earth,
Is a momentous undertaking.

Yet, so many amongst us
Venture forth and dedicate
Their life to doing good,
Saving the bounty given us
With utmost care and stewardship.

Thank those angels on earth,
Who came and tried to save us:
Jane, David, Jacques, Ralph,
Chief Seattle, Theodore, Wangari,
Rachel, Chico, Margaret…

Talk to the animals and learn,
To do what comes naturally,
No waste, no undue harm,
No ravaging of earth’s resources,
A web of life, perpetuating life...

TRAVEL TUESDAY 518 - MOOLOOLABA, AUSTRALIA

“All we need, really, is a change from a near frigid to a tropical attitude of mind.” - Marjory Stoneman Douglas

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and then share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Mooloolaba is a coastal suburb of Maroochydore in the Sunshine Coast Region, Queensland, Australia. It is part of the Maroochydore urban centre. In the 2021 census, Mooloolaba had a population of 8,202 people. Mooloolaba is bounded on the east by the Coral Sea, on the south by the Mooloolah River, on the north by Alexandra Headland and to the west by Buderim.

Mooloolaba derives from the Aboriginal word mulu, meaning snapper fish, or mulla meaning Red-bellied Black Snake. Originally known as Mooloolah Heads, the name was changed to Mooloolaba by Thomas O'Connor in 1919 when he subdivided land for sale there.

Mooloolaba Harbour (near the mouth of the Mooloolah River) is the home of a large fleet of fishing vessels, as well as being the northern base for the pilot vessels that control shipping through Moreton Bay and the Port of Brisbane. Due to its sheltered location in the lee of Point Cartwright, it is an all-weather harbour favoured by recreational sailors.

The esplanade facing Mooloolaba beach is a centre for tourist activity, containing the Sea Life marine park, as well as many souvenir and clothing shops, bookshops, galleries and restaurants. Behind the apartments facing the Mooloolaba Beach are camping grounds, backpacker hostels and canal villas. It is also a tourism destination, with cruise ships regularly anchoring outside the port.

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OUR FAVOURITE TOYS

“Child labor and poverty are inevitably bound together and if you continue to use the labor of children as the treatment for the social disease of poverty, you will have both poverty and child labor to the end of time.” - Grace Abbott

Poets and Storytellers this week has given us the theme of “Brothers and Sisters” to write about. I’m always struck by the huge size of families in countries where poverty is the rule. And yet it seems that those big families of many children are happy in their misfortune, and it is touching to see how the siblings look after one another with love and affection.

Our Favourite Toys

A hard life our lot, where every day is a struggle,
Where putting bread on the table is hard labour,
Where drinking water is never taken for granted:
A life that cheats death every day.

A hard existence, where everyone works
To eke out a living, and children grow up early,
To till the barren soil, trying to raise a meagre crop:
A life that gives pleasures rarely.

A poor man’s lot, where bitter food is eaten greedily,
Where hunger never goes away completely, and disease kills,
Where most children never get a chance to grow up:
A life of want gratefully stopped short.

Our favourite toys:
A ball of rags kicked stealthily, in between chores;
Worn plastic containers, no good for reuse,
Grabbed avidly, to make toy houses, cars and drums to beat:
In secret, while we steal a few moments to play.

Sticks, pebbles, twigs – and if you’re lucky –
An old bicycle wheel, to make of them whatever
Your boundless imagination desires,
Rubbish transformed into wondrous things;
And most precious of all:
Your kid sister a living doll to care for…

BLESSED ARE THEY...

“Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent.” - Jonathan Swift

The New What’s Going On Blog has set as its theme the topic of “weariness”. A feeling familiar to all of us who have trouble dealing with modern days and the worldwide status quo… All of us who feel desperate, despondent, frustrated, downhearted, miserable, and yes downright exhausted and weary. Fatigued in spite of all of our attempts to right the wrongs, and make the crooked straight. My poem gives perhaps a little rest, respite and blessings to all of the dog-tired humanity who still try to make the injured world a better place, despite all odds…

Blessed Are They…

Who in adversity find hope,
And who in hardship cope
With endless woe and ill –
Who out of blackness, light distill.

Who even in injury forgive,
Finding courage to live and let live.
In meekness, their strength’s untold
They stand tall, resolute and bold.

Who have the energy to love
Even all those unworthy of
A sentiment so noble, tender;
Their own heart ready to surrender.

Who trust and still believe
All those who seek reprieve;
Who credit all of base humanity
With virtues that preserve sanity.

Who strive for peace and calm
And who on injuries pour balm;
Giving repose to all who are tired,
The sweetest respite they’ve desired.

Who make the crooked run straight
And the trivial things be great;
Who have humility, patience, charity
Giving their all with grace and verity.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 517 - VIRUNGA MTS, RWANDA

“When the missionaries came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said 'Let us pray.' We closed our eyes. When we opened them we had the Bible and they had the land.” -  Desmond Tutu

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only. Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Rwanda, officially the Republic of Rwanda, is a landlocked country in East Africa. Known as the "Land of a Thousand Hills" (French: Pays des mille collines) for its high elevation and rolling terrain, its geography is dominated by mountains in the west and savanna in the southeast. The largest and most notable lakes are mainly in the western and northern regions of the country, and several volcanoes that form part of the Virunga volcanic chain are primarily in the northwest. The climate is considered tropical highland, with two rainy seasons and two dry seasons each year.

Its capital and largest city is Kigali, located at the centre of the country, at 1,567 metres above sea level. Rwanda lies a few degrees south of the Equator in the Great Rift Valley of East Africa, where the African Great Lakes region and Southeast Africa converge. Going clockwise Rwanda is bordered by Uganda to the north, Tanzania to the east, Burundi to the south, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo to the west. It is the most densely populated mainland African country; among countries larger than 10,000 km2, it is the third-most densely populated country in the world.

Rwanda is a de facto one-party state ruled by the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) and its leader Paul Kagame continuously since the end of the civil war in 1994. Although Rwanda is nominally democratic, elections are manipulated in various ways, which include banning opposition parties, arresting or assassinating critics, and electoral fraud. The RPF is a Tutsi-dominated party but receives support from other communities as well.

Tourism is one of Rwanda’s fastest-growing economic sectors and remains the country’s leading foreign exchange earner. In 2023, Rwanda recorded over 1.4 million international visitors, generating about US$620 million in revenue, according to the Rwanda Development Board. The World Travel & Tourism Council reported that in 2024, the sector supported nearly 386,000 jobs in Rwanda and contributed over 10% of GDP.

A major draw for visitors is mountain gorilla tracking in Volcanoes National Park, one of only three places worldwide where mountain gorillas can be seen in the wild. Other attractions include Nyungwe Forest National Park, known for its chimpanzees and canopy walkway, the resorts of Lake Kivu, and Akagera National Park, a savanna reserve in the east home to elephants, lions, and giraffes. The Virunga Mountains in the photo are a great scenic location.

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THE AUTUMN FULL MOON

“No man can taste the fruits of Autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of Spring.” - Samuel Johnson

Poets and storytellers this week is titled “Hello, Fall”. Within that theme, I should mention that in Australia, our Autumn is during the  months of March, April, May, quite the opposite of the Northern Hemisphere. The majority of our population here is of a Northern Hemisphere heritage and all the seasonal holidays we observe are topsy-turvy! More so, if one is a recent arrival here, when these back-the-front seasons are quite startling. My poem takes that into account…

The Autumn Full Moon

Gazing at the clear sky on this Spring night
And looking at the full moon of September,
A distant northern Autumn I remember
When you were near, and your eyes were bright.

The stars are sparkling and the garden fragrant
The night is cool and air crisp as a crystal bell.
Spring flowers bright, in moonlight flagrant
But memory’s fallen leaves sad tales will tell.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

We shared a moon cake under full moon’s light
And laughed as Autumn winds blew candles out;
Now I can find no trace of you about –
I loved, you left, the moon’s the mistress of the night.

The Autumn full moon in Spring is mocking
My thoughts, remembrances, feelings frozen;
My life so empty, and your absence shocking
This lonely path we tread as we have chosen.

Tell me pale Moon, does she too gaze on you tonight?
Could she perhaps be thinking of me, in your silver light?

The poem is set to music, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 516 - THE ARAL SEA, ASIA

“Sustainable development is the pathway to the future we want for all. It offers a framework to generate economic growth, achieve social justice, exercise environmental stewardship and strengthen governance.” - Ban Ki-moon

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.
Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

The Aral Sea is a salt lake in Central Asia, located between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, which was once the world's fourth-largest lake but has since shrunk dramatically. This environmental catastrophe began in the 1960s due to the Soviet Union's diversion of its inflowing rivers, the Amu Darya and Syr Darya, for unsustainable cotton cultivation. The shrinking sea left behind toxic desert plains, but some recovery efforts have led to a revival of the smaller Northern Aral Sea.

By 2007, the Aral Sea had declined to 10% of its original size, splitting into four lakes: the North Aral Sea, the eastern and western basins of the once far larger South Aral Sea, and the smaller intermediate Barsakelmes Lake. By 2009, the southeastern lake had disappeared and the southwestern lake had retreated to a thin strip at the western edge of the former southern sea. In subsequent years occasional water flows have led to the southeastern lake sometimes being replenished to a small degree. Satellite images by NASA in August 2014 revealed that for the first time in modern history the eastern basin of the Aral Sea had completely dried up. The eastern basin is now called the Aralkum Desert.

After the visit to Muynak in 2011, United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki-moon called the shrinking of the Aral Sea “one of the planet’s worst environmental disasters.” The region's once-prosperous fishing industry has been devastated, bringing unemployment and economic hardship. The water from the diverted Syr Darya river is used to irrigate about two million hectares of farmland in the Ferghana Valley. The Aral Sea region is heavily polluted, with consequent serious public health problems.

In a Kazakhstani effort to save and replenish the North Aral Sea, the Dike Kokaral dam was completed in 2005. By 2008, the water level had risen 12 m above that of 2003, to 42 m. As of 2013, salinity dropped, and fish were again present in sufficient numbers for some fishing to be viable.

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THE WORDS I WRITE

“To learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.” - Victor Hugo

Poets and storytellers this week is all about revisiting “Old Favourites”, and within that context I have chosen “Beloved Books”. I have about 20,000 books, which I have been collecting since I began to read — precociously, as I was taught to read by my mother before I went to school. Some of these books are in several rooms in my house, some in my mother’s house, a few in storage (as there is no more space, but I cannot part with them…). Yes, I am Nick and I am a bibliophile… And it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to ever kick that addiction!

When you read a book, and begin to gobble up those written words, hearing their sounds, forming mental images, experiencing emotions, devouring the plot, learning new things, taking pleasure in that simple act of reading, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be illiterate? When I was about 20 years old I travelled to Egypt, alone. I went up the Nile and ended up in Aswan. At that time, it was not very touristic and there were very few people speaking English, a few that spoke a little French (and with whom I was able to communicate more or less). But as far as the written word was concerned, I had trouble finding anything written in English or French, for that matter. All was Arabic! That lovely flowing, calligraphic, drawn out, wonderfully squiggly script that looked fantastic, but made no sense whatsoever to me! I then realised what it would be like to be illiterate!

Here’s a poem about the joys of literacy. And if you can read thank your teacher, thank your lucky stars for even now in the 21st century, it is estimated that approximately 750 million adults globally lack basic reading and writing skills, with two-thirds of them being women, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa and Southern Asia…

The Words I Write

The words I write are full of gratitude,

Each rounded letter a thank you,

Each line a heartfelt appreciation

Of my teachers’ tireless persistence.

The pages I read are full of knowledge,

Each word a bird in flight,

Each phrase a new friend, a new acquaintance

Met in distant places, wandering through fabled cities.

The books I read are full of pleasure,

Each page full of new-felt emotion and senses;

Each sentence a laugh, some tears,

Some gentleness, some fiery argument.

The verse I write is full of thought and heart,

Of pain and joy, of brain and soul, love, friendship.

I write and read, and with unconscious ease effortlessly

Take for granted this precious gift of literacy.

I thank my luck for this privilege, this gift of providence,

That I was amongst the chosen to experience

This mystery of written word, of imprisoned sound,

Of captured language and word-pictures.

The present of literature, the happiness of calligraphy

The indulgence of a memoir, the work of words,

The magic of communication,

This richness of script.

No song this week. Just read the poem!

THE LONG RIBBON OF THE ROAD

It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. E. L. Doctorow

This week, the New What’s Going On blog has given the theme of “Through the Windshield” - something to do with cars, obviously! Here is my offering:

The Long Ribbon of the Road

I count the minutes as they pass
The road stretches ahead,
An endless ribbon unfurling.
I count the seconds as they linger on
The dark, long road heartless,
The miles to you unending.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The long ribbon of the road
Unwinds and mocks my speed,
As I attempt to catch the ribbon’s end.
The endless road stretches forever,
And like its dark ribbon up ahead,
My love for you is inexhaustible,

My beating heart, for you will falter
Although the love it hides won’t alter.
My raspy breath, my fevered brow,
The shaking trees, the branches sough. 
Your touch remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

Time drags as the road forever runs
And in the night I speed faster and faster;
I weather storms, battle with windmills,
Cheat hours, lie to myself, lose my reason;
Swallow my pride, pretend I’m in control,
Just to be in your embrace for a single stolen night.

My burning love for you fuels my drive
Although it seems I’ll never arrive…
My teary eyes, mirror the rain falling,
Its sound it seems my name is calling.
Your face remembered, pulls me to you,
Even if I sink and drown in your black bayou.

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 515 - GALAXEIDI, GREECE

“On a summer night, I have sat on the balcony drinking Ouzo, watching the ghosts of Greek Heroes sailing past, listening to the rustle of their sail cloths and the gentle lapping of their oars.” – Phil Simpkin

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.

Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Galaxidi or Galaxeidi (Greek: Γαλαξίδι/Γαλαξείδι), is a town and a former municipality in the southern part of Phocis, Greece. Since the 2011 local government reform it is part of the municipality Delphi, of which it is a municipal unit. The municipal unit has an area of 126.088 km2. Galaxidi has a small harbour on the north coast of the Gulf of Corinth. It is 7 km southwest of Itea, 15 km southwest of Delphi, 17 km south of Amfissa and 48 km east of Naupactus. The Greek National Road 48 connects Galaxidi with Naupactus, Itea and Delphi. Galaxidi is a 2.5 to 3 hour drive from the capital Athens and a relatively popular weekend retreat.

Modern Galaxidi is built on the site of ancient Haleion, a city of western Locris. Traces of habitation are discernible since prehistoric times with a peak in the Early Helladic Period (Anemokambi, Pelekaris, Kefalari, islet of Apsifia). A significant Mycenaean settlement has been located at Villa; the hill of St. Athanasios also revealed a fortified Geometric settlement (ca. 700 BC). In the Archaic and Classical periods (7th-4th centuries BC) was developed the administrative and religious centre at the modern site of Agios Vlasis. It seems that in ca. 300 BC the present site was settled and surrounded by a fortification wall; it is the period of the expansion of power of the Aetolian League. Haleion flourished throughout the Hellenistic and Roman periods until the 2nd century AD.

Galaxidi is a small port situated on a natural double harbour surrounded by mountains. The deeper main harbour provides docking facilities for yachts and small fishing boats and is lined with restaurants, bars, and stores. The smaller harbour is Chirolaka. On the rocky shoreline by the side of the larger harbour, is a pine forest planted by school children in the early twentieth century. There is a road behind the town that leads up the mountain to the Monastery of the Metamorphosis (actually a convent that was inhabited by one nun as of 2010). This provides a splendid view of the town and its surroundings. No traces remain of the town's medieval castle. The Church of Saint John of Jerusalem, built by the Hospitallers in 1404, survived until after World War I, when it was replaced by a modern church dedicated to Saint Nicholas

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PARTING'S SWEET SORROW

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” - Laozi

This week, the Poets and Storytellers  has given the theme of 14 Words for Love. I have used the 14 words from Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”: “Parting is such sweet sorrow, so I shall say goodnight till it be morrow…” as the springboard for my poem.

Parting’s Sweet Sorrow

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

The moon alarmed has hid behind a cloud,
The wind is whistling and the rain will fall.
And in my room my restless breath heard loud;
My solitude a gnawing pain, a soft grey pall,
A deadening fog, an empty echoing hall.

You write to me as you roam and sail the seas,
The words of love a hollow echo of your voice.
And in my empty room my heartbeats freeze
As your insistent absence will not let me rejoice;
I have to cope, there is no other choice.

The yellow autumn leaves swirl in the blowing wind
The rain now falls in sheets, the street deserted, void.
Sleep will not come to me, my mind to you is pinned,
Thoughts of your face, your touch, your voice I can’t avoid;
I wish that your departure I could rescind.

Time flows unctuously through the sleepless night
The curtain pulled back allows the street light entry.
The rain, the hidden moon, the sickly yellow light:
My only companions, my loneliness the faithful sentry.
When you are absent all my nights are white.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.”

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 514 - SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

“To you who eat a lot of rice because you’re lonely,To you who sleep a lot because you’re bored,To you who cry a lot because you are sad, I write this down. Chew on your feelings that are cornered, like you would chew on rice. Life is something that you need to digest.”― Cheon Yanghui

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.
There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us.Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.
Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Seoul (서울; Korean) - officially the Seoul Special Metropolitan City – is the capital and largest metropolis of the Republic of Korea (commonly known as South Korea). Seoul forms the heart of the Seoul Capital Area, and includes the surrounding Incheon metropolis and Gyeonggi province, altogether home to roughly half of the country's population.

Strategically situated on the Han River, Seoul's history stretches back over two thousand years, when it was founded in 18 BC by the people of Baekje, one of the Three Kingdoms of Korea. The city was later designated the capital of Korea under the Joseon dynasty. Seoul is surrounded by a mountainous and hilly landscape, with Bukhan Mountain located on the northern edge of the city. As with its long history, the Seoul Capital Area contains five UNESCO World Heritage Sites: Changdeok Palace, Hwaseong Fortress, Jongmyo Shrine, Namhansanseong and the Royal Tombs of the Joseon Dynasty.

More recently, Seoul has been a major site of modern architectural construction–major modern landmarks include the N Seoul Tower, the 63 Building, the Lotte World Tower, the Dongdaemun Design Plaza, Lotte World, Moonlight Rainbow Fountain, COEX, and the Parc1 Tower. Seoul was named the 2010 World Design Capital. Also the birthplace of K-pop and the Korean Wave, Seoul received over 10 million international visitors in 2014, making it the world's 9th most visited city and 4th largest earner in tourism.

Today, Seoul is considered a leading and rising global city, resulting from an economic boom called the Miracle on the Han River, which transformed it to the world's 4th largest metropolitan economy with a GDP of US$845.9 billion in 2014 after Tokyo, New York City and Los Angeles. In 2015, it was rated Asia's most livable city with the second highest quality of life globally by Arcadis.

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AN ACADEMIC DISCOURSE

“Common sense and a sense of humour are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humour is just common sense, dancing.” - Clive James

This week, Poets and Storytellers United asked us to write “Something Good”, something uplifting, something hopeful or amusing. I have put my tongue firmly in my cheek and I am giving you a little humorous poem — some nonsense verse that takes a little swipe at my fellow academics, who sometimes are too serious for their own good!

An Academic Discourse

Two rabbits, some hares,
Were splitting their hairs:
Their intent to argue creation,
Rain, and such condensation.
Plink plonk!

A rat, a gnat and two moles
Were digging four holes,
Deep in which to inter:
Bread, butter, liqueur.
Oh, yes! 

A frog from a bog and a hen
Constructed a large pen
To herd mewling cats,
All wearing elegant hats.
Meeeeeow….

A badger, a toad, carrying a load
Conversed in Morse code,
While giving great pain
To everyone’s brain.
Oh no!

And there were you, you and I,
And a blue-bottle fly,
Singing in tune under full moon,
Sometime in late June,
While pigs flew overhead
And our theories misled.
Mmmmm, Miss Lead!

Five bandits , two bears,
Were riding on mares.
Wanting to argue cognation
And establish their relation…
Cousins, I think!

A dog in a box, a robin, a fox
Looked at their clocks,
As teatime drew nigh
The tea in short supply!
How beastly!

A stoat and a goat, quick to emote,
Cried long in their boat,
Their tears enough, no surprise,
To make it capsize.
Blur gurgle!

And there were you, you and I,
And a blue-bottle fly,
Singing in tune under full moon,
Sometime in late June,
Eating butter and bread
Content and brain-dead!
Quite so!

The poem is set to music again, and you can find all my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel or listen to it on YouTube,  Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that the song has been submitted to music sharing sites, but there is a variable period of delay until the song is publicly released. YouTube is generally the most prompt.

SMOKE AND MIRRORS

“I believe in low lights and trick mirrors.” - Andy Warhol

This week, the New What’s Going On blog  has given the theme of “Mirrors” as its inspiration for our literary offerings. A mirror was an early invention of civilisation, and right from the start, its purpose was manifold: From the stark truth of the objective reflection, and the subjective self-reflection for wisdom, to the perils of vanity and deception. It can also symbolise an alternate reality, the subconscious mind, and spiritual insight, or serve as a tool for divination and communication with other realms. A fractured mirror symbolises a broken identity, while a broken reality. Here is my offering!

Smoke and Mirrors

I drink, alone,
And smoke endless cigarettes;
A chain of smoke binding me
To your image,
On the mirror of my memory.

I smoke, solitary,
And drink hard liquor,
Swimming to you
As you recede, fast sinking
To the bottom of my glass.

And as the butts accumulate,

In the ashtray of your remembrance,
I resolve to leave you be;
Forget your face,
Burn your impression…

And the bottle empties,
As I try to drown your recollection
In my glass; but as quickly as I fill it
I empty it, encountering you
Ever present, at its bottom.

I formed you out of smoke,
A virtual image of perfection
In the depths of a magic mirror,

Manufactured by my need to love;
And all I’ve ever had was an illusion

Made of smoke and tricks of light, reflected…

This poem is set to music, and you can find all references to my music in my “Otidorchestre” channel, or listen to it on YouTube, Spotify,  Amazon, Deezer, Flo, Pandora, and other music sharing sites.

Please note that the song has been submitted to music sharing sites, but there is a variable period of delay until the song is publicly released. YouTube is generally the most prompt.

TRAVEL TUESDAY 513 - SHADAGH MOUNTAIN, AZERBAIJAN

“Hospitality, as with all the mountain tribes, was - and is still - a most sacred duty; and the man who would slay a chance-met traveller without pity or remorse for the sake of trifling gain, would lay down his life for the very same individual were he to cross his threshold as even an unbidden guest.” ― John F. Baddeley

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Mount Shahdagh (Azerbaijani: Şahdağ; Lezgian: Кас сув) is a mountain peak of the Greater Caucasus range, located in the Qusar District of Azerbaijan, close to the border with Russia. The elevation of the peak is 4,243 metres above sea level. Among the earth rocks found in Shahdagh are magnesian lime, chalkstone and marble. Winter temperatures at Shahdagh average -20°C.

Shahdagh National Park (Azerbaijani: Şahdağ Milli Parkı) — is a national park in Azerbaijan. It was established initially over 115,900 hectares (1,159 km2) in the Quba Rayon, Qusar Rayon, İsmayıllı Rayon, Qəbələ Rayon, Oğuz Rayon and Şamaxı Rayon administrative districts on December 8, 2006. It was enlarged by presidential decree on July 8, 2010 from 115,900 hectares (1,159 km2) to 130,508.1 hectares (1,305.081 km2).

Azerbaijan has a very rich flora, more than 4,500 species of higher plants have been registered in the country. Due to the unique climate in Azerbaijan, the flora is much richer in the number of species than the flora of the other republics of the South Caucasus. About 66% of the species growing in the whole Caucasus can be found in Azerbaijan.

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