Candlemas Bells White Purification Snow Piercers
Naked Maidens Good Christians Ice Lilies
February Fairmaids White tears Death Flowers
Shrove Tuesday Fools
Flowers of Hope
Snow Bells Eve’s Tears Mary’s Tears
c Photo and poem by Candia Dixon-Stuart
Photo- and preserve!- by Candia Dixon-Stuart
So excited to find these at Kelmscott and then to allow them to blett, before making
jelly. Supposed to be good with game, or cheese.
These are culs-de-chien, ‘open-arses’ and other scatologically named fruits from the rose
family. Shakespeare and contemporaries loved exploiting double-entendre possibilities
in their lexical field- see ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and references to poppering pears etc
I added a lemon and an apple to the simmering mixture and then raised some sugar to
a rolling boil- and voila!
My grandmother used to say, Never cast a cloot till May is oot.
This, being translated, is tantamount to advising that one should
not strip off, or put one’s winter wardrobe away until… until
- The May blossom is in evidence
2) the month of May is past
Which is it? In Scotland it is probably never a good idea to dispense with a
layer, whatever the time of year, or whatever plant is making its presence
Above is a photo of the May blossom in my garden yesterday. I compromised by
wearing a coat dress – ha! Today I would have needed a Drize-a Bone Aussie
head-to-toe proofed swagman garment.
It’s a wonder there’s any blossom left on the trees after this morning’s deluge!
Females also guilty – should be ‘Mankindsplaining!’ (New generic?)
Hot air forked tongues terminal inexactitudes
tranparent smokescreens inexcusable excuses unmitigated untruths
iniquitous insinuations criminal understatements overblown rhetoric
Father of Lies
Master of Deceit
Hath God said?
hollow rhetoric smooth tongues transparent excuses
anarchy, Andromeda, Animal Farm, Burne-Jones, Cassiopeia, casuistry, censorship, Diaz, Dr Atl, etymology, free expression, guerilla warfare, hacendados, Heaven, Hell, Liberty, liberty/licence, Pre-Raphaelites, Prometheus, revolution, volcanoes
Another poem inspired by Prometheus Unbound
by P B Shelley:
Andromeda by Burne-Jones: Wikipedia
A wheel will come full circle, you will find.
The outcome’s in the etymology
of ‘revolution.’ Think ‘Animal Farm.’
‘You seize the flower; the bloom is shed,’ Rab said.
Heaven and Hell are one’s inner landscapes.
Give a man an inch; he’ll take a mile.
Liberty/ licence – where to draw the line?
Free expression/ censorship : who can judge?
Anarchy is based on casuistry.
Prometheus played with fire and was burnt.
Imagination versus tyranny.
He who is king over himself is free.
Cassiopeia took the liberty
of a frank assessment of others’ looks.
Say nowt if you can’t say anything nice.
Why did the Pre-Raphaelites feel free
to create soft porn from mythology?
Liberty bodices off; shackles on.
‘When tigers are unleashed, who controls them?’
said Diaz, while Dr Atl opposed
slaves’ exploitation by hacendados,
exploding guerilla warfare into print,
like lava from his beloved volcanoes –
but he still became a neo-Nazi.
So, I’m suspicious of all these Titans,
larger than life, whose words stream in the wind.
They’re the self-acknowledged legislators,
crying, ‘Liberty, equality… (Blah!)
prior to being overthrown – not by a coup –
yet everywhere men are free, but in chains.
spices up the varnished truth.
Once Chinese Whispers
are conveyed to print, they last.
Never trust accounts
from impressionable folk.
is an insult to the truth,
but scepticism can be
mis-placed, if expressed,
especially if someone is
talking about faith.
Though doubt can be cast on much,
facetiousness is unkind.
A frank discussion
would be so enjoyable,
but, let us face it,
there are few hearts in accord.
can’t be brooked by many folk.
You end up alone,
or as good as such. You’ll see.
If one could just trust
not to take offence, umbrage,
at a slight demur,
it would be stimulating
and both parties might profit.
Long ago, people
showed great appreciation
for all poetry.
If an Emperor was to
hand you an inkstone and say:
Write down a poem!
you’d be obliged to comply.
The Naniwazu would do,
as would Kokin Shu.
You couldn’t excuse yourself,
or your memory.
Calligraphy could be poor,
but you had to show your taste.