Category: ecology
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Dust
Posted:
Lost in the chaos of present events, we – or something in us – look to leadership for orientation, guidance and comfort. And the same something perhaps assumes that, the worse the crisis, the better that leadership must be and rescue is on the way. And assumes as well that, in this chaos, our own…
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Judgement from Paradise
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I don’t think there was any immediate catalyst for this stanza, as far as date or event were concerned. In the UK, as elsewhere, there just seemed to be so few redeeming features, no 5th cavalry rescue , no clearing of the mist, no light of sanity breaking through. The thought that we make a…
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Still the Parrot Paces
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In the third stanza of “Speak, Parrot” by John Skelton, you’ll find these lines : “With my bekė bent, my little wanton eye,/ My feathers fresh as is the emerald green,/About my neck a circulet like the rich ruby,/ my little leggės, my feet both feat and clean,/ I am a minion to wait upon…
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A Brexiter Takes Stock of the Dark Star
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I know that, in writing this, I was remembering a scene from an early “Star Wars” film. An ominous planet approaches. And I remember that image occurring to me, when I came across a book by Iain McGilchrist called “The Master and His Emissary – The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World.”…
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Parrot Counts the Cost of Youth
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It struck me hard yesterday, that issues that are dominating our lives (or at least mine – unhealthily so) – such as Trumplestiltskin in America, Brexitosis in the UK – appalling both – are actually just inexcusable distractions from issues and crisis far larger and more important – for instance global warming and mass extinctions…
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Dust
Posted:
The poem I’m publishing here foresees the end of the world. The false god Me n’ Mine has too many worshippers to be withstood. Besides Greed, the angel which serves Me n’ Mine most faithfully is the Lie and it is the Lie by which the false god rules and will destroy us all. …
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Naming the Beast of the Year
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This beast has our country’s contours written all over it. It has leapt from out of the ruins of the city, those hollow squares, and from the great labrynth below ground where the thread got tangled, and from the wi-fi and the wires through which we do not speak but intone like digital toys…
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Autumn UK 2016
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Today our skies evicted the swallow and the swift was banished weeks ago and in Dorset the house martin whose tiny mud globes once crammed the eaves was simply absent all year. And last week Putin, unrestrained, bombed hospitals in Aleppo and Trump continued his debasing of America and Theresa May declared the…