Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem.
The vine grows tangled on bough – gnarly and proud. Pride, gnarly pride – whether of nations or race – wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission.
Vines tangled on thorns of bloodied resistance, trapped in a fog of remembrance, the glory. Ignominious defender of empire
Lost. Dark and broken. Quells peace. Cruel tsar to none, hero to one. The vine grows tangled on bough. Wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission.
Tangled vines lash all to the yoke of sorrow. Wins not war, wins not peace, wins not submission. The vine grows tangled on bough. Its rose blooms red.
Perhaps there is only one road for those devoid of imagination and courage? Maybe peace is something that requires practise? You know, fake it until you make it? Who knows? It seems that some of god’s apparent emissaries can give some pretty shitty advice. Shall we listen to Loreena McKennitt’s song, Dante’s Prayer, in the hope of something better?
Take care, everyone. Kind Regards. Tracy.
Lens-Artists Photo Challenge – Colourful Expressions, specifically a red rose for Anne as it is her favourite colour, plus NaPoWriMo #22challenge is to to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.
Consuming Passions Long slender legs to her armpits; beautiful eyes flashed her carnal intent. He had been looking for her his whole life. Their eyes locked, bodies swaying together in lovers’ embrace. A question hung between them. He: “What do you want?” She: “To devour you.” And then he lost his head.
This poem was inspired by two mating praying mantises I photographed last week. Sometimes the female mantis, the smaller of the two, eats the head of the male mantis during copulation. The male is able to continue the deed without his head for a short time as apparently he has a separate mini-brain in his abdomen. Talk about being ruled by the little head! I confess that I had to look away.
Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem that anthropomorphises a kind of food, and ask yourself how the food feels about it.
Alrighty, gruesome.
Bon Appétit, everyone.
Kind Regards. Tracy.
NaPoWriMo #20 For information on the copulating appetites of praying mantises, here is an article from The Guardian.
I am reprising my poem about my little dog, Ama, for the NaPoWriMo prompt about dogs you have known, seen, or heard about. It is the best poem I’ve ever written (if I do say so myself) so I can’t offer any better. The poem is written in the style of bush poetry (ie. it’s long) and there’s a nod to Banjo Patterson’s iconic poem, The Man From Snowy River. In that poem, “the Man” rides his mountain pony down a steep hill after a herd of brumbies (wild horses). There is some controversy as to whether that poem was a true story. Unlike Mr Patterson’s poem, I can vouch that Ode to Ama is completely true. Enjoy. Read more
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem written for the National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) challenge, the optional prompt for which is to write a poem about something you have absolutely no interest in.
Eh? Bob*, what song should I pick for my Friday song day? Bob, what do I have absolutely no interest in? Listening. Suffering. Eh, sorry? What did you say?
Today, I’ve chosen L’Indifference, a musical piece written by Tony Murena and performed by Dan Newton’s Cafe Accordion Orchestra for my Friday Song Day. The Cafe Accordian Orchestra hails from Minnesotta. Indifference is not the exactly the same as having no interest in something, but it is close. Enjoy.
Tracy (front) and her sister riding Lightning,1972
An image flickers like an old home movie across the screen.
A young girl stands by an open fridge door drinking thirstily from a large bottle of Passiona. A woman, her mother, appears in the background and chastises her daughter for drinking too much soft drink.Too much Passiona. Always Passiona.
"Drink water," the child's mother says.But the child doesn't stop.
Images flicker alternately between the child vomiting violently, and drinking from the bottle of Passiona, before vomiting again. The child becomes thinner and thinner.
Images of the wasting child flicker faster until she is nothing but a wisp of fetid Passiona air, translucent and ephemeral as she drifts in and out of consciousness.
When I was a small girl, I lived on a rural property on the outskirts of Sydney. Every week, the soft drink man would deliver a crate of syrupy, carbonated drinks to the property. They were supposed to be a treat, but I couldn’t get enough of them. My favourite was a passionfruit-flavoured fizzy called Passiona. In the 50 years since I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I have always craved carbonated fizzy drinks on those rare occasions when my blood glucose levels have been seriously high. It is worth noting that I became a Type 1 diabetic in the months after I recovered from a serious bout of the measles. Isn’t it fortunate that there are now vaccines to protect against many serious viruses that can trigger our immune systems to go into hyper drive and attack our own bodies?
The (optional) task for Day 14 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is to write a poem/piece that takes the form of the opening scene of the movie of your life.
I once thought “bokeh” referred to the circles, sometimes sparkly, that you often see in the background of a photo taken with a macro or telephoto lens. I’ve moved on from that and I now like to think of bokeh as the aura surrounding the subject of the photo, the bokeh being that little bit of voodoo magic performed by the camera to blur out the background so that the subject has centre stage. That is purely my artistic view and not a technical definition. I prefer my bokeh soft and calm and not swishy/choppy, but this is easier said than done. The exception to that is when the bokeh is being used for creative effect. If for any reason it is not possible to achieve the effect desired, I would rather take the photo “as is”, and enjoy what I’ve seen. Hence, you will see less than perfect bokeh on my site. Hopefully, the photos will still be interesting.
A messy background, my position and camera shake affected the quality of the bokeh/aura in my photo of this kookaburra below. The bokeh is not to my taste but how could you not love a face like that?
Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae), Australian National Botanic Gardens
Now for my photography partner’s photo. He was further up the hill than I was and his extra height meant that he was able to access a much nicer background, and hence, lovely bokeh.
Kookaburra – Australian National Botanic Gardens
Look! Even with my little camera, I can still achieve a lovely blurred background if I am lucky to find myself close to my subject and there is a reasonable amount of separation between it and the background.
Silvereye (Zosterops lateralis) in the Canberra suburbs
It is difficult to capture that lovely blurred background effect with fast moving little birds. A really fancy camera or lots of patience is required. I therefore like to see what my little camera can make of plants. Trees in sheltered spots are great for this. The filtered light provides a beautiful tonal calm backdrop to the bark of this Pinus canarienis at Canberra’s Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum. The dark colour of the bark is a result of being burnt in the 2003 bushfires.
Canary Island Pine (Pinus canariensis), Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum, Canberra)
And below, I couldn’t resist the combination of the young eucalyptus leaves against the muted yellow plants in the background (probably paper daisies like those in the foreground), which were themselves set against the darker green of the heavily shaded area in the far back. I wouldn’t classify this as bokeh or an aura, but without my camera to see this stunning plant against the blurred background, it might not have caught my eye so. My botanist son’s best guess is that the tree is a native of Western Australia, Eucalyptus macrocarpa. WA plants are always show stoppers. What do you think, WA readers? Did my son guess right?
Mottlecah (Eucalyptus macrocarpa) tbc – Australian National Botanic Gardens
And, finally, this creamy milk chocolate background is a perfect complement to the fungi growing in fallen timber. Photography can be such a time waster but there are worse things we could be doing.
Thanks for reading this far, everyone. I have a couple more photos of the kookaburra that I will share soon. In the meantime, take care and take photos.
Love is a place. The place where I belong. Safe in your arms, the warmth of your smile. The place that I call home.
Love is a home. The home we make together Our memories, our joys, our lows. The journey we go on.
Love is a journey. The journey of body and mind. Our coming together. Making love. The love that we share.
The love that we share. The journey we go on. The place that I call home. A place to love and be loved.
The (optional) task for Day 10 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is to write a love poem. It is very plain and so not saucy, but I was in a hurry. And shy.
Halved How can love be so difficult and so simple all at once? Life is sickness and health. To be frank, love is both a comfort and a chore. Our troth, our trove, til just a fraction remains. Halved.
Dear readers, some of you may know that my True Love has been in hospital a couple of times recently. He has been discharged again with confusing and conflicting advice, and limited information on a new, very restrictive diet, until … surgery? It remains stressful, particularly in the light of increased demand for hospital services combined with significant staff shortages. Hence, the poem is rather maudlin. Not to worry, we shall persevere.
The (optional) task for Day 9 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is to write a a nonet. A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second has eight, and so on until you get to the last line, which has just one syllable.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem.
In Your Likeness What do you see when you look into your soul? Bloodshed, torture and depravity? Is this your version of humanity? Not fit unless made in your likeness.
Today I’ve chosen Pan’s Labyrinth Lullaby, composed by Javier Navarrete for Guillermo del Toro’s film.
In Australia, there are whispers of a murderous cabal of people-eating koalas. Known colloquially as “drop bears”, their location is known only to Aussies, who avoid them for dear life. The modus operandi of the drop bear is to drop down from the trees onto unsuspecting visitors. That’s when things get gruesome. But times are a-changing, ladies and gentlemen. Survival of our respective species, of the planet, means we will all need to reduce our meat consumption. Let’s see how that goes. Gather round.
Blood red eyes, dagger claws, give lie to that sweet furry body and button nose. “To our sacrifice and to yours!” The leader of the Drop Bears includes the captive in her hypnotic gaze. Then, in a booming bark, she projects to the crowd, “One last time. For tomorrow we turn vegan.” The crowd blanches, then tentatively at first, begins to chant,“Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.” “But tonight. Tonight, Sisters. Tonight, Brothers. Tonight, there will be feasting on more meaty prey.” “Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.” Silence falls – or maybe drops – as the throng gathers to feast. Finally, a shout rings out. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we dine on the Infidel.” The crowd roars. “Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.”
A Vegetable’s Nightmare The silence ripples. Beyond the shadows, beyond the adulation, in gardens across the country, the infidels quiver in their beds.
If you are a visitor to Australia and plan on visiting koala habitat, best do that during the day. Koalas and their kin, the drop bears, are nocturnal and feed at night. There’s no telling if the drop bears will honour their resolution.
Day 5 of the NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem about a mythical person or creature (drop bears are more secretive than mythical) doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature. I made a slight deviation from the brief, but near enough is good enough.
Stay safe, everyone. Kind Regards. Tracy.
PS. I had rather too much fun setting up the photos. I’ve had the koala toy since I was a baby.
Reflections of An Untidy Mind 