Sunday, 27 July 2025

A Kelling Memory

 



Autumn and winter days at our cottage in Kelling were marked occasionally by the arrival of guests of the Kelling estate. These guests - paying guests - came for the entertainment offered by the regular pheasant shoots. Here is a reflection, written as the spent pellets rained upon our cottage conservatory. It was completed in Oxfordshire sunshine a few days ago.

The Reluctant Sportsman

The guns speak a fate. Keep 
Brave as the birds break cover.
Squeeze the trigger. The flock in disarray
Hovers then darts loose over the fields.
Shame hinges on a miss. This
Is what we expected. The land over stiles
Marks an escape. I am reptile.

The guns settle. Held, not fired.
Brave as the birds break cover.
Finger stays curled. The flock in disarray
Hovers then darts loose over the fields.
No one sees the stillness. This
Is not what was expected. The land over stiles
Marks a passage. I stay human.

The grass parts. A rustle speaks.
Brave as the sky calls danger.
Muscle recalls the flint of air
As bodies scatter, low and rising.
A crack behind. Not struck. This
Time, still breathing. The land over stiles
Means a distance. I am creature.

Kelling October 2015/Oxon July 2025

  • Stanzas 2 and 3 developed with assistance of Co-Pilot AI

Treescape in Watercolour 2022



Saturday, 19 July 2025

Tracks: A Revision after a Decade

 


The tracks hold signs of wisdom planted
Full deep in the way. Here a flame
Burns and flickers, flickers, burns
And lights rocks against rock,
Another shadow, a different shade,
A shiver of memory thrust to mind.

At the broken stile, a figure stood.
Not stranger, not guide.
He said:
What you carry was not gathered,
But given—before the path began.

To survive in this wild place
In this wilderness scaffold, simply face
The shades as they speak of times made strange
By current tread.

The dead speak in fire,
Not in voice or name.
Hold fast to that light. It shines
Miraculous, though too often maligned.

 

-          -    Kelling July 2015/Oxon July 2025

  • Stanza 2 developed with  assistance of Co-Pilot AI, with reference to Eliot's "Compound ghost" in "Little Gidding"





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Thursday, 29 May 2025

A Poem in the Manner of EP

 

The ages fade daily from memory,
but an instant calls to mind,
times thought lost through dull decay.
-- Tours: Nov 1971

Palimpsest

An ink-smudge on papyrus—
ghost-hand of Charax in the margin,
"νος νθρώπου—" and the reed bends.

Clamour of looms in Nineveh,
threads humming patterns
no eye remains to read.

Rust eats the bronze mirror
at the base of the Acropolis;
I see my face in it,
fractured—
half Helen, half the boy from Tyre
whose sandals wore a path to the salt market.

A gull cries.
Concrete breaks its own silence.

Words come in fragments:
"– et in Arcadia…"
"—ye towers of Ilium…"
They lie like bone shards
in the posthole of a vanished hut.

No elegy is whole.

Yet, in a metro tunnel,
fluorescent and wet with transit hum,
I glimpse her—
an eyelash curve,
a gesture from an older grammar.

Time uncoils.
Memory is not kind,
but sudden.

- Oxon: May 2025

Footnotes

1. νοῦς ἀνθρώπου (nous anthrōpou) — Greek for "the mind of man." This phrase reflects classical philosophical thought, especially in Plato and Aristotle, where nous denotes the highest faculty of intellect or reason. The attribution to “Charax” may allude to Charax of Pergamon, a semi-legendary chronicler, here imagined as a marginal commentator in an ancient manuscript. The smudged ink emphasizes textual decay and the ghostliness of ancient knowledge.


2. Nineveh — The capital of the Neo-Assyrian Empire, famed for its architecture, gardens, and textile production. The "clamour of looms" references the lost industry and domestic life of ancient cities, preserved now only through archaeology and legend.


3. Bronze mirror / Acropolis — Mirrors in classical antiquity were often made from polished bronze. The Acropolis, Athens’s ancient citadel, becomes a stage for cultural erosion, the bronze mirror symbolizing faded self-knowledge and the inevitable corrosion of civilization's reflective capacities.


4. Helen / boy from Tyre — Helen of Troy embodies mythic beauty and destructive desire. The "boy from Tyre" may allude to mythological figures such as Cadmus or Europa's brother, or symbolically to young Phoenician traders, invoking early Mediterranean commerce and cultural diaspora. The juxtaposition suggests fragmented identity across time and myth.


5. Concrete breaks its own silence — A motif where inanimate materials gain agency. Concrete, emblem of modern civilization, is personified as it fractures—both literally and metaphorically—under the weight of history and memory.


6. "Et in Arcadia…" — Latin: "Even in Arcadia, there am I," traditionally interpreted as death’s reminder of its presence even in idealized realms. Associated with Poussin’s paintings and Baroque vanitas themes.


7. "Ye towers of Ilium…" — A line echoing Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, referencing the mythical city of Troy (Ilium). Symbolizes fallen civilizations, often used in literature as shorthand for the tragic arc of empire.


8. Bone shards / posthole of a vanished hut — An archaeological metaphor: postholes are traces left by decayed wooden structures; bone shards suggest fragmentary remains of life and culture. This image mirrors a preoccupation with cultural excavation and lost origins.


9. Metro tunnel / gesture from an older grammar — An allusion to Ezra Pound’s "In a Station of the Metro" ("The apparition of these faces in the crowd..."). The “older grammar” evokes pre-verbal or ancient systems of expression—bodily, symbolic, or mythic—still surfacing in the modern world.


10. Time uncoils / Memory is not kind, but sudden — A nod to involuntary memory (e.g., Proustian recall), where memory erupts unexpectedly. “Time uncoils” may also suggest a serpent or scroll—symbols of both danger and revelation.


This poem and the notes were produced using AI, feeding Co-Pilot with the seed lines from an old poem of mine, and a request to deliver something in the style of Ezra Pound