the last train speeding past old chestnut
It’s this time of the year again: October 16, Blog Action Day approaching fast….
What is Blog Action Day? I’t’s a global event involving bloggers commenting on an issue that matters. The organisers say:
‘Every year since 2007, thousands of bloggers have come together for one day to talk about one important issue, like Poverty, Climate Change and Human Rights amongst others.’
I took part the last two years and thoroughly enjoyed the event.
This year, Blog Action Day is slightly different. Due to the fact that the theme is ‘Raise Your Voice’ — i.e. each individual blogger will be deciding for themselves which issue to write about — there will be a plethora of themes . . . and voices . . . let’s see how this plays out.
In 2013 I wrote about refugees crossing the Mediterranean – my post was one of three to be featured by Amnesty International. I am giving the link here because it is even more topical this year than it was in 2013. But repeating a blog post is not enough. I will have to make a choice. I could write a new post about refugees, about growing old, the treatment of old people by our society (a sort of ‘society refugees’), or about war and envy. Maybe there is a way of bringing all these topics together. We’ll see…
Meanwhile, these are the three tags for sharing information about the event:
#BAD2015 , #RaiseYourVoice #Oct16
the sound of dove’s wings
I’m walking around the world without leaving home… How? By using a pedometer: it tracks my steps and lets me know weekly the distance I’ve covered. Occasionally, it congratulates me on earning a badge for achieving high step counts (per day) and distance milestones. The exuberant software emoticon that comes with the email makes my day. Earlier on this year, I celebrated walking the length of New Zealand: 1593 km long. A couple of weeks ago, I received a badge for walking the distance covered by the Great Barrier Reef, all 2574 km of it! Now of course I wish I had really been there. On the other hand . . . what is reality?
missing from the rainbow burnt umber
Delighted that my epistolary poem ‘Dear Yannis’ (Ritsos) is given another airing on RE / VERSE, the online journal.
‘Little Eagle Press presents poems previously published. Well worth another look, we think,’ they say. Thank you to Ralph Murre for giving my poem a second chance, and for the photo art image he created that accompanies the poem. Take a look by clicking here
hearing the news…
A sunny Saturday afternoon in Augsburg. In Ohmstrasse 5, crowds are queuing patiently with their donations for the refugees, while numerous volunteers sort through bag after bag of shoes, jackets, scarfs and hats, toys, cardboard boxes… It felt good to witness this, and to be part of this crowd.
The group organising this collection is called Uebergepaeck eines Fluechtlings Check them out on Facebook, and if you live nearby, please note they will be accepting donations every Saturday 13:00-16:00 pm till the end of October.
This afternoon, I visited the Pinakothek der Moderne in Munich. I went to see an exhibition juxtaposing what had been termed by the National Socialists ‘Degenerate Art” with their own notion of Art. It turned out to be interesting, though small-scale. For me, the best piece was work that would have been considered ‘degenerate’, but that was created later: Bacon’s triptych Crucifixion (1965).
I had seen this before, but never sat long enough in front of it to feel the enormity of its significance for modern art, as well as its power to see through and comment on the violence of totalitarian regimes and the destructive forces of the human psyche. Click here for a photo of this work.
Large pillars of basalt with circular cuts bored into them at one end, filled with smaller conical pieces. A puzzling, powerful piece of art, allowing the viewer to walk around it and explore perspectives. I saw toppled pillars, columns, bones, decay, in the installation. Given the state of the world today, with the violence and destruction reigning in so many war-torn countries, I wonder how Beuys would have depicted the end of the 21st century.
In case you’ve noticed my absence from my blog, I’ve been working on a book of haibun stories and I am thrilled to report that I am near completing the first draft. Like my previous fiction books, this one is spun around the three poles of self, society, and politics. The emphasis though is different. More about this later. Unusually, for me, the title for this one has been elusive. In the past, I used to have the title before I wrote the book. Not so with this book.
I may be asking for your help to pick a title, though how this could be done without prior knowledge of the book is a good question.
And another thing! A translation into German of my book of short stories and haibun titled ‘Feeding the Doves’ (Fruit Dove Press, 2013) is being readied for printing as we speak. So that you know, dear reader, I haven’t been skiving!
echoes from the island belfry
reach the mainland
Please don’t read beyond the title. This is not a poem, nor is it a haibun, short story, or flash.
It has no beginning, middle or end. No development of any sort. It is here as a no thing, and by reading it you gain nothing. Unless you make it into something.
petals or thorns
a scratch on the surface
Published at ‘the other bunny‘ August 3, 2015
a bar regular vents
the where, when, and how
in Sonic Boom
Delighted to have two of my one-line haiku published:
numerically speaking the soul sucks
blending spring with daisies you get a billboard
Bones – journal for contemporary haiku (in PDF)
no. 7, july 15, 2015
pushing all the wrong
Frogpond 2015, 38:2, p.11
my thin layer
Frogpond 2015, 38 : 2, p.11
deep blue skies
the dragonfly’s limpid
Sharing from last week’s excursion to Bad Bayersoien; a swimmer got into difficulties and the emergency doctor had to be called. He was there in a matter of minutes, by helicopter. Impressive! I hope the swimmer had a speedy recovery too.
how can silence be
Photo: From my walk in Bad Bayersoien
fardel of sticks
the apple tree’s fall
sunlight through her black habit
the taxi driver’s
on the road—
the wounded deer’s
the splenetic kid stops
the rocket salad
enervated sun emits
a plasma flare
oppugning the calories
in the chocolate cake
the riverbank awash in
pressed between the pages