09 Monday Oct 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Writing
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(Metropolitan Museum of Art; Chapter 49: Tale of Genji)
She who was known as
The Wistaria lady
had just one daughter.
Would she succeed where she’d failed?
She would not find out;
all too soon, she passed away.
The motherless girl
had no strong support at court:
the frost-fringed chrysanthemums
a chilly comment
on her sad predicament.
Kaoru was chosen.
The Emperor summoned him
and asked him to pluck a bloom.
05 Thursday Oct 2017
(Photo: View of An Sgurr, 2008 by Mike Garratt. Creative Commons)
He came from Erin: leaned on his bachail
and celebrated Holy Mysteries,
overlooking Poll nam Partan. His monks,
his muinntir, chanted psalms on Easter’s eve,
baa-ing with sheep, yet he had no shepherd –
no Anam Cara when the slaughter came.
The Queen of Moidart was not of his fold.
She roasted him in his refectory,
unwilling to respect the Lamb of God.
She took the lives of fifty brothers too,
to re-assert her power and grazing rights.
Strange lights flickered over the monks’ corpses
and lured her Pictish women up the slopes
to Sgurr of Eigg. At Loch nam Ban Mora,
luminescence lingered, tantalising
her warriors, who waded out and drowned.
Columba, you did not want to be-friend
one destined for red martyrdom and yet
The Northern Lights received him to glory;
his abbatial staff hooked in the lost
of many a future generation.
15 Friday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
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(Scroll image:Museum Fine Arts, Boston_ Wm Sturgis Bigelow Collection)
Back in the city,
the salt burners’ pungent whiff
lingered on his clothes.
Before any discordance,
he hoped to return.
Would the koto stay in tune?
He wept to leave her,
as he’d wept on arrival.
When Murasaki was told,
about the lady,
she shrugged porcelain shoulders.
He took the reproof,
so gently given, yet wrote
two further love messages.
09 Saturday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
(Honolulu Museum of Art. Fireflies by
Eishosai Choki, c 1793)
She had to pretend
she was unaware of things:
to evade the one;
she admitted another.
The prince brought jars of fireflies
and released them round her face.
She raised a coy fan
and her profile was charming.
A brief glimpse of radiance
was mesmerising,
re-kindling his heart’s bright flame.
He showed great restraint.
On The Day of the Iris,
he knew love was taking root.
08 Friday Sep 2017
Tags
choral societies, epidemiology, Handel, Haydn, Horus, Israel in Egypt, Jenkins' Ear, Mad Cow Disease, Miriam, oratorio, Orchestra of Enlightenment, Pharaonic House, Proms 2017, Psalms, re-cycling, refugees, salvation, tsunami
Re-cycling, refugees, extreme weather,
epidemiology, pollution,
infant mortality and slavery,
with a soupcon of subtle parody
and tuneful Italian arias –
small wonder that Haydn, sobbing, remarked
that Handel was the Master of them all,
leaving his rivals in Stygian dark.
Everyone wants to view the mighty fall;
to see the baddies’ chariot wheels spark,
then sink in dense quicksand, or tsunami.
To hear chants, fugues, a rollicking chorus,
denouncing the worshippers of Horus…!
Even Jenkins, who had no ear (that year)
could not have failed to pick up on the vibe.
Flies, frogs, flux, Mad Cow Disease and a plague
on the Pharaonic House – who said that ‘nice
and stately’ was the way to go? The dirge
was cut; he reduced the lamentation.
This new work would focus on salvation.
The Psalms were fine, but throw out the hymnal:
focus on Miriam and her timbrel!
Massed choral societies could just let rip.
Oh, Orchestra of Enlightenment, play
your instruments, as in the score’s heyday.
06 Wednesday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, Music, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Somehow the music
seemed uncannily sublime,
owing to context
and the monk’s skilful technique.
Maybe ambition
for his daughter inspired him.
As desired and planned,
Kenji wrote a note,
to which the father replied
on Michinoku paper.
Dignified response
whetted the prince’s desire.
The chill sea winds blew.
Would his lonely bed be warmed
by The Akashi Lady?
04 Monday Sep 2017
Tags
choka, Kiri-Tsubo, koto, Murasaki Shikibu, Music, Otaki, Tale of Genji
Shadow of herself,
Kiri- Tsubo was wilting.
A hand-drawn carriage
took her from the Emperor.
Her ceremonies at
Otaki were conducted
with solemnity.
Inordinate love killed her.
On damp, chilly nights,
the music of the koto
plucked at his heart’s strings
and he could not bear to think
of their son, removed from court.
03 Sunday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Writing
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A choka:
The coast at Suma,
suitable for retirement
and to contemplate
the outcome of one’s choices.
Violet’s mirror
no longer reflects my face.
Incognito, I
take the works of a poet;
sail to self-imposed exile.
Wood smoke is rising,
but the continuous rain
dampens detachment
and my thoughts revert to court.
Meanwhile I pluck my koto.
03 Sunday Sep 2017
Posted in Animals, art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
Third Princess, your pet
climbed onto the balcony.
Oh, Kashiwagi,
why should you desire it when
you are not a cat lover?
03 Sunday Sep 2017
Posted in art, Arts, Literature, mythology, Nostalgia, Poetry, Relationships, Romance, Writing
So unassuming,
you were a Falling Flower.
A cuckoo beckons;
I smell the orange blossoms
and fond memories flood back.
