Not a Whit of Difference
26 Sunday Feb 2023
Posted Environment, Humour, Literature, Nature, Personal, Photography, Poetry, Psychology, Satire, Travel
in26 Sunday Feb 2023
Posted Environment, Humour, Literature, Nature, Personal, Photography, Poetry, Psychology, Satire, Travel
in07 Wednesday Dec 2022
07 Friday Oct 2022
Posted Literature, Photography, Poetry, Religion, Supernatural
in13 Tuesday Sep 2022
Posted Education, History, Literature, Philosophy, Photography, Poetry
in29 Monday Aug 2022
Posted Crime, Environment, Nature, News, Poetry, Relationships, Social Comment, Writing
inTags
agribusinesses, Amazon, habitat loss, illegal loggers, Man of the Hole, North Rondonia, pistoleros, sarampion, sestina, yams
The harbingers of the highway, strange men –
pistoleros? – murdered his tribe. Alone,
he raises maize and yams. He is the last
to roam 4,000 hectares; to survive
sarampion, flu, smallpox and the loss
of relationships, family and friends.
The agribusinesses have been no friends
to Amazonian rainforests. Men
decimate the land; their gain is loss.
This man has lived for twenty years alone.
With four, or five, some other tribes survive,
but human diversity will not last.
When the illegal loggers have, at last,
razed every tree to the forest floor, friends
of the indigenous will not survive.
Stripping rare plants that might have healed men
will leave us with dilemmas, all alone,
to face health crises; scientific loss.
In today’s world we experience loss –
loss of our souls; our languages. The last
man to roam North Rondonia alone
at least felt what it was once to have friends.
He knew the co-operation of men
was vital for tribe members to survive.
Without his wisdom, how can we survive?
No man is an island. All sense the loss.
Our planet is affected – even men
who murdered his kin. The effects will last,
impacting their families and their friends.
Doubtless their guilt should not be borne alone.
Corporations do not erode alone.
Immunity itself will not survive.
Time’s arrow can pierce foes and even friends.
The Man of the Hole, who suffered great loss,
knows his breath will be surrendered at last,
but he holds that in common with all men.
Friends of our earth, how shall we survive loss
of habitats and species? Fellow men,
look at this last man. He’s not alone.
A post of the poem I already published in February 2021.
‘The Man in the Hole’ was found outside his straw hut, dead in a hammock
and covered with Macaw feathers. He was aged about 60 and no foul play
is suspected at this time.
08 Monday Aug 2022
Posted Humour, Literature, Photography, Poetry
in03 Thursday Feb 2022
Posted Celebrities, Humour, News, Poetry, Politics, Satire, Social Comment, Writing
inTags
Angela Rayner, Boris Johnson, clerihew, House of Commons, Keir Starmer, Lynne Truss, Pm's Question Time, Rishi Sunak, Satire
Lynne Truss,
What an embarrassing fuss!
She confused the Baltic and Black Sea.
Does she have Geography GCSE?
Boris Johnson, PM,
from whom the Tory Party and the country’s troubles stem,
knows all about ‘tragic miscalculation[s]’
and is woefully inept at international relations.
Angela Rayner,
lover of the biker boot and trainer,
called the Conservatives ‘scum.’
Maybe, some think, she wasn’t quite so dumb?
Keir Starmer,
we’d be misled if we called him a charmer-
inadvertently, or not, the Scots crofter was hot.
His principled stand eclipsed the whole lot.*
(in some people’s opinion)
Jacob Rees-Mogg,
Princeling of Pettifog?
Is that a silver spoon in the pocket of your pantaloon,
or are you pleased to see us, that you may bestow a boon?
Rishi Sunak.
is giving us £200 back.
‘Now, don’t bite the hand that feeds you,’ he may say.
No, we’ll leave that till the Election Day.
14 Thursday Oct 2021
Posted Personal, Poetry, Psychology, Relationships, Writing
inTags
empathy, Goya, jealousy, Los Caprichos, quennet, rejection, The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters
Goya: The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters from Los Caprichos
black mood patient endurance anguished thoughts
dashed hope
groundless expectation tunnel light silver lining?
suppressed frustration
wry smile forced laughter gnawing jealousy
daily grind
scarce empathy
gritted teeth
voluntary solitude
brittle persona
crushed spirit
low ebb
arrested development
black tunnel anguished grind daily endurance
groundless jealousy?
18 Saturday Sep 2021
Posted Autumn, gardens, Horticulture, Literature, Nature, Nostalgia, Personal, Photography, Poetry
in17 Tuesday Aug 2021
Posted Photography, Poetry, Social Comment, Summer
in