Poetry Thursday 16 - What's the Message

 As a member of a generation several times removed from the present day I am coming closer to the realisation that the language I was taught is foreign in comparison to now. 

What’s the Message

 

I wonder what we’ve come to,

when a lion is a tiger,

the signal sent out is new,

but the meaning is unclear.

 

It used to be easier,

when receptors didn’t need to woke,

when the statement was clear,

and the words were as they were  spoke.

 

But now lion or tiger could be tabby,

historic positions are not kosher,

decade of free love shabby,

how do oldies become adapter?

  

Aren’t we all simply humans,

including preferences and faults,

communicating with other humans,

faced with unexpected jolts.

 

Society’s impositions not needed,

fashionable attitudes keep out,

leave us to relate unheeded,

we can manage without your shout.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 15 - Messages

 Continuing the theme of messages I have written three poems this week, all with target recipients. 

The inspiration for Oyster came from a paragraph in Dickens's first novel - Pickwick Papers. Sam Weller, Pickwick's servant, comments on the number of oyster stalls on the poorer streets of London. 

'poverty and oysters seem to go hand in hand'

For E Musk on the failed launch of his rocket.

For Musk

 

If I become a wealthy man,

It wouldn’t be my only plan,

To share it with my network,

By launching the biggest firework.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

Then there is the new cabinet but the message is for the voting public.

For the Cabinet

 

Sunak, Hunt and Braverman,

Cleverly, Gove and Cameron,

and other members of that ilk,

who’ll never know the price of milk,

future voters be aware

the bottom line – they just don’t care.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

Finally, for everyone to reflect on the issue of wealth versus poverty. 

Oysters

 

It is often wondered who was first

to consume the quivering shellfish,

which brave consumer had a thirst,

to ingest that unappetising dish.

 

Perhaps it was a kind of knavish trick,

played by the poor on the rich,

to make the wealthy very sick,

promising the scratching of the sexual itch.

 

In fact the said slimy, grey mollusc,

has no such enhancing ability,

is not even vaguely picturesque,

has only a gag-inducing quality.

So only two centuries later,

the poor have foregone that dubious pleasure,

replaced it with the humble tater,

and the oyster is now an expensive treasure.

 

Perhaps the rich are the butt of the joke,

maybe the unappealing oyster knows,

as well as the ordinary everyday bloke,

that it is as the emperor’s suit of clothes!

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

God Bless 

Writing - Messages

 Last week I talked about how much of ourselves we put into our work and Messages is a natural extension. In fact, so much so that some official readers have had authors imprisoned and worse for the things that they have been accused of including in their works. Of course, the written word has long been used and abused by politically motivated groups and governments. 

Censorship is the umbrella term that covers a plethora of works that have been banned for reasons that quite often bore no relationship to the content. 

As an 11 year old I remember sharing glimpses of Lady Chatterley's Lover in the school playground. D H Lawrence's work was illegal until 1960, the year in which my classmates and I caught a glimpse. 

It may seem small beer in the grand scheme of things but it cost some writers dear. In fact, there are few countries in the world that haven't been guilty of imprisoning writers for their works. Currently, China, Saudi Arabia, Israel, and more have writers in jail. 

A list of authors who spent time in jail includes Dostoyevsky, Marlowe, Wilde, Defoe and many more. In these days of internet, the numbers are more difficult to identify. There are so many that there is a Banned Book Week every September. 

Tal Al-Mallouhi, Syria 

One of the most recent is the lady pictured. 

In 2009, Tal Al-Mallouhi was a 19-year-old Syrian student whose blog focused primarily on poetry and social commentary. In December, a branch of State Security summoned her with unsupported suspicions about her blog leaking information to a foreign state. That was the last any of her friends or family heard from Al-Mallouhi. For nine months she was detained with unspecified charges. The lack of evidence or charges against her did not stop the court from handing down a guilty verdict. In 2011 the State Security court sentenced Al-Mallouhi to five years in prison. A State Security report in October 2013 claimed that she was released, but alternative sources say she was only transferred to a different facility. Her current condition is unknown. 

Sitting at your computer typing away in your safe world? Be aware that even in the enlightened 21st century, the ruling classes are nervous of free-thinking writers. 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday - 14 - Green Horse

 One of the beauties of being a writer is that you allow your imagination free rein to go where it will. The poem below was inspired in me over a few short hours and began with a dream from which I awoke at 3am the other morning.

Green Horse

 

Last night I dreamt of a green horse swimming in a lake

I had to splash water in its face to keep it in my wake

We landed here in Amsterdam for its low-lying shore then

I mounted the horse and rode it all the way to Elsinore.

 

Welcomed by the Danes,

a friendly people, although they were astonished,

as riding a green horse was behaviour to be admonished.

 

We continued traveling on

until we crossed the Rubicon

where the way the local people spoke

to the green horse sounded like a joke.

 

Green horse was disinclined to laugh,

and so we followed Caeser’s path,

sought out the rather comforting charms,

of resting in sweet Mary‘s arms.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

God Bless 

Writing - What goes into your works

 Over the years I have seen, heard, and read various interviews given by writers, and the question about how much of the writer is in the story is quite often fudged. That may be from a natural modesty or an effort to mystify the process. 

If you like Superman in your own story or perhaps more a shadowy Alfred Hitchcock lurking somewhere in his movies. Which option you prefer is irrelevant because in both cases all of you is in there!

Ok, that may seem an oversimplification, but I can't see how it can be otherwise. Writing is deeply personal and rises from within you, therefore all of your attitudes, opinions, and personality traits influence what you produce. That is also true in all genres. I think it is the case that some like to enhance the mystique of being a writer. 

Blurb 

The story is a speculative journey into a possible future that may lie ahead of us all. There is evidence that such a future may not be impossible. We have been warned that unless we increase the ability to produce electricity there could be power cuts in the next ten years. Our modern-day lives are permeated through with the need for electricity and its production.
Although Cessation could be categorised as a dystopian story I find that rather a negative word and the purpose of writing the tale is to allow elements of hope in a seemingly desperate situation.
The story begins in 2023 a couple of years after the lights go out for the last time. Our group of survivors is thrown together on a farm in the low Pennines north of the M62 motorway and within striking distance of a number of northern towns which could prove useful for supplies. Initially, the group is small and lives on a farm called Serendipity but as time passes the size of the group waxes and wanes for a variety of reasons. 

Irrespective of how you see yourself as a writer, it is your right to divulge or conceal information about your process. 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 13 - Remember, remember

An experiment testing AI poetry writing in comparison with an almost human.

 

Recall

 

He is the perpetual warrior but it was never his fault,

he was there because he needed work,

took the King's shilling for a ration of salt,

but became the pawn of any manipulative jerk.

 

And as required he died,

he battled and fought as commanded,

but no matter how hard he strived,

the soldier's life was ended.

 

So we show the final respect,

and give thanks for their living, 

hoping our belated feelings reflect,

appropriate depth for their dying.

 

We should try hard every November,

for their selfless gift to remember.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

AI as opposed to Human!

AI Remembers

In somber hues we gather, hearts entwined,

To honor those who bravely faced their fate.

Their sacrifice, forever in our mind,

Their memory, a beacon to navigate.

We remember the fallen, souls so dear,

Whose valor and courage forever shine,

In fields of battle, they banished all fear,

Their spirits in our hearts, eternally entwined.

Their names carved deep on stones of solemn gray,

Their stories whispered by the winds that blow,

We pause to reflect on their final day,

And vow to never let their memories go.

For in our hearts, their legacy remains,

Their sacrifice, a song that forever reigns. 

You decide. For me the AI is smart but soulless. 

God Bless 

Writing - First novels

 So what was the first novel? Below is a candidate written before William the Conquerer invaded the UK. 

The Tale of Genji

November 3rd is Culture Day in Japan, so let’s talk about Murasaki Shikibu, the author of Genji Monogatari (The Tale of Genji), often regarded as the world’s first novel. Her personal name is unknown, as “Murasaki” means “purple”, a nickname for the imperial court, and “Shikibu”, or “Ministry of Ceremonies”, refers to her father’s rank. She was an 11th-century minor noblewoman who served as a lady-in-waiting of Empress Shōshi, chosen for being cultured and well-educated. Besides Genji Monogatari, now a world literature classic, other works by Murasaki Shikibu include a collection of more than a hundred poems and a diary in which she recorded important events and her own impressions about life at court. For centuries, scenes from her works have been illustrated by Japanese artists and served as inspiration for ukiyo-e woodblock prints. One of the locations connected to Murasaki Shikibu in Kyoto is Rozan-ji temple, and a sculpture depicting her can be found near the famous Uji Bridge. She is also one of the historical characters portrayed in the parade of Jidai Matsuri (Festival of the Ages).

It could be that the one you're writing becomes a thousand-year-old classic. So be brave and keep going.

Then there is what is considered the first detective story written by Wilkie Collins in 1868 - an excellent read.

Blurb

A debased Englishman steals the moonstone, a sacred gem, from India. It brings bad luck to each of its English possessors. When the gem disappears from a young Englishwoman's room and three sinister Hindus menace her family, the careful, methodical Sergeant Cuff is assigned to the case.

Whatever the genre, to exist Collins had to overcome the same issues 150 years ago as we do today.

God Bless

Thursday Poetry 12 - Fall Back

 Warm spaces for people unable to afford their heating at home; increasing numbers of food banks; and, charities giving beds to children who are without. Shameful factors that will be the legacy of this Tory Government. 

Fall Back

 

Turned back time last weekend,

for lighter mornings on the farm,

or so we’re told but in the end

leaving alone would do what harm?

 

An extra hours sleep in bed,

drummed repeatedly into my head,

so why am I not more rested,

tired for two days instead.

 

Turning back time within human power,

a jealously guarded skill,

worth it for a single hour,

held within the public will.

 

An illogical step if you apply your mind,

brighter breakfasts, tea to the dark consigned,

but only one hour an insignificant spot,

when you consider what we’ve got!

 

So let’s stop fiddling,

with insignificant aspects of life,

when so many issues conflicting,

give people so much strife.

© David L Atkinson November 2023  

God Bless