Archives for posts with tag: fireworks
By Daderot (Own work) [Public domain or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

Photograph of an Edo period work, 18th-19th century Japan by Daderot (Own work) [Public domain or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

It was very suspicious
the way that whale
rolled over and opened
its mouth for tips,
then set fireworks
to the water gods
from its blowhole.

Whales have featured in my poetry before. Like sluice gates and bears, whales prefigure as a childhood fascination. In my first or second year of school, we learnt about blue whales. They were enormous yet ate such small food with little effort through their sieve-mouths. Either in conjunction with the curriculum topic or with my family I must have visited the South African Natural History Museum where there was (and still is) the large skeleton of a blue whale. Alongside was a booth in which recordings were played of whales in communication. These creatures had a language, which I could not penetrate. I was in awe.

Southern Right whales come into the sheltered bays around Cape Town to calf. Whale watching is a notable annual event. I still think about a particular train journey from Simon’s Town, past Glencairn, when I saw two majestic whales dancing in the ocean and spouting the fireworks from their blowholes.

So it is that whales crop up every now and then in my musing, in my writing and even in my dreams.

Twitter: @BeadedQuill
Facebook: BeadedQuill
Books:
In the Ocean: a year of poetry
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness: Selected Poems, 1999 – 2012

With the spit and 
fizz of fireworks,
I clinked flutes 
of resolutions
on a New Year’s Night.

Now March, the ashes
have blown away.


A week ago, I wrote about how my effervescent poetry-writing productivity has ebbed. Wail and gnash as I might, not much seems to be helping. In fact, strange circumstances have stalled production when I have tried to propel it.

Last week, for some indecipherable reason, I could not access my wordpress account from my home laptop. Readers on other computers and devices, indeed, in other countries, were able to enjoy the verses on BeadedQuill. But all I got on my screen was a little pixelated Tyrannosaurus informing me that that ‘this page is not available’.

The usual commitments and tasks of my week clattered in. Against them I asserted, come the weekend, I would sit down to writing and posting.

My landlady informed me that we would be without WiFi for a couple of days.

Fizzle.

I know, I know. A writer only needs pen and paper, and imagination. But it’s amazing how the non-presence of one’s hosted blog and WiFi can puncture the already deflating momentum of a flagging poet.

Enough moaning, for I have produced a poem for you today.
Enjoy!

Twitter: @BeadedQuill
Facebook: BeadedQuill
Books:
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness