Damian: posts feature the pen and the pixel

Gay guy in England's north west. Retired Forensic Learning Disability nurse. Travel: Photography: Music: Literature

[ukdamo]

The Shark

Lord Alfred Douglas (Oscar Wilde's 'Bosie')

A treacherous monster is the Shark He never makes the least remark.

And when he sees you on the sand, He doesn’t seem to want to land.

He watches you take off your clothes, And not the least excitement shows.

His eyes do not grow bright or roll, He has astonishing self-control.

He waits till you are quite undressed, And seems to take no interest.

And when towards the sea you leap, He looks as if he were asleep.

But when you once get in his range, His whole demeanour seems to change.

He throws his body right about, And his true character comes out.

It’s no use crying or appealing, He seems to lose all decent feeling.

After this warning you will wish To keep clear of this treacherous fish.

His back is black, his stomach white, He has a very dangerous bite.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: a leopard shark at the Shedd Aquarium, Chicago.

[ukdamo]

No poem today, instead this joyous piece of plena by Plena Libre - a proper taste of living life as you choose to, in Puerto Rico.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: Sea of Flags - Chicago mural.

For details, see the info board photo.

[ukdamo]

A Route of Evanescence, (1489)

Emily Dickinson

A Route of Evanescence, With a revolving Wheel – A Resonance of Emerald A Rush of Cochineal – And every Blossom on the Bush Adjusts its tumbled Head – The Mail from Tunis – probably, An easy Morning’s Ride –

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: The Bab el Bahr, gateway to the medina, Tunis.

[ukdamo]

Inis Mor

Felicity B

On Inis Mor, where the sky meets the sea I etched my love into the shore.

My witnesses: the clouds, gulls flying high, a pale sun, a caressing breeze.

I moved the sand with deep strokes, the grains sliding and slipping to reveal a beloved name. A declaration eternal, unbreakable; bittersweet, of joy and pain.

And slowly, ripples, eddies, pools, gentle waves encroached. Minute particles mixed and mingled, moving and slowly erasing the words.

They were carried to the ocean; borne on currents uncontrollable, unleashable - to a land distant and free to my lost love, who lived there without me.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits was taken on Inis Mor, Isles of Aran; two swans swim in the back bay, adjacent to the seal colony.

[ukdamo]

A Ballad Of Galway

Anna Johnston MacManus

The market place is all astir, The sombre streets are gay, And lo! a stately galleon Lies anchored in the Bay– The colleens shy, and sturdy lads, Are swiftly trooping down, To greet the Spanish sailors On the quay of Galway Town.

But Nora–golden Nora– What matters it to you? There's joy–long time a stranger– In those gentle eyes of blue; And wherefore deck your ringlets, And don your silken gown, For a crew of Spanish sailors That stroll through Galway Town?

Said Nora–golden Nora– And her laughter held a tear, "I don my silk and laces Because my love is near– Among the Spanish crew is one Should wear a kingly crown– Although he walks a landless man, To-day, through Galway town.

"Look forth! see yond his dusky head Tower high above the throng. Oh brave is he, and true is he, And so my lips have song; For he's no Spanish sailor, Though he wears the jerkin brown– But Murrough Og O'Flaherty, Come back to Galway Town.

"He fought in Spain's red sieges, And holds a Captain's place, Ah! would his arm were raised to strike In battles of his race! But his boyhood saw with bitter grief Iar-Connacht lose renown, When the Saxon crushed his valiant clan In the streets of Galway Town.

"To-night will be our wedding– With a holy priest to bless– Shall we remember Cromwell's law Amid such happiness? While my true love's arm is round me, Should they come with fighting frown, His sword shall cleave a pathway For his bride through Galway Town."

Then up the street stepped Murrough, And down stepped Nora Bán, Had ever sailor fairer love– Sweet, sweet as summer dawn? Their glad lips clung together– "Such bliss old grief must drown: God guard the faithful lovers," Prayed we in Galway Town.

Oh, far across the water The good ship's speeding now, And Murrough Og O'Flaherty Stands tall beside the prow; And Nora–golden Nora– A bride in silken gown– Hath sailed away for ever From her kin in Galway Town.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: Galway Cathedral.

[ukdamo]

The Irish Cliffs of Moher

Wallace Stevens

Who is my father in this world, in this house, At the spirit's base?

My father's father, his father's father, his— Shadows like winds

Go back to a parent before thought, before speech, At the head of the past.

They go to the cliffs of Moher rising out of the mist, Above the real,

Rising out of present time and place, above The wet, green grass.

This is not landscape, full of the somnambulations Of poetry

And the sea. This is my father or, maybe, It is as he was,

A likeness, one of the race of fathers: earth And sea and air.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits is a recent upload - the sea stack at the Cliffs of Moher.

[ukdamo]

Galway Races

W. B. Yeats

There where the racecourse is Delight makes all of the one mind The riders upon the swift horses The field that closes in behind. We too had good attendance once, Hearers, hearteners of the work, Aye, horsemen for companions Before the merchant and the clerk Breathed on the world with timid breath; But some day and at some new moon We’ll learn that sleeping is not death Hearing the whole earth change its tune, Flesh being wild again, and it again Crying aloud as the racecourse is; And find hearteners among men That ride upon horses.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits was uploaded only yesterday: a phone snap in Galway Cathedral.

[ukdamo]

Dresden

David Barlow

I‘d had my say on Remembrance Day- It was Cheltenham Town Hall as I recall- when there was a roar at the vestry door and I swear it was Captain Mainwaring there, and he was flustered - he was disgusted- “How dare you claim that we were to blame for the bombs that fell and caused the hell of when Dresden burned - which my God they’d earned!”! Was I not aware of the factories there making bullets and guns for the evil Huns? No blame - no shame - it wasn’t the same as Coventry’s fire leaving only its spire- that was the real crime he said - but I’m not so sure.

[ukdamo]

Today's Flickr photo with the most hits was taken in Dresden: the Museum Johanneum, stair.

[ukdamo]

On Growing Old

John Masefield

Be with me, Beauty, for the fire is dying; My dog and I are old, too old for roving. Man, whose young passion sets the spindrift flying, Is soon too lame to march, too cold for loving. I take the book and gather to the fire, Turning old yellow leaves; minute by minute The clock ticks to my heart. A withered wire, Moves a thin ghost of music in the spinet. I cannot sail your seas, I cannot wander Your cornland, nor your hill-land, nor your valleys Ever again, nor share the battle yonder Where the young knight the broken squadron rallies. Only stay quiet while my mind remembers The beauty of fire from the beauty of embers. Beauty, have pity! for the strong have power, The rich their wealth, the beautiful their grace, Summer of man its sunlight and its flower, Spring-time of man all April in a face. Only, as in the jostling in the Strand, Where the mob thrusts or loiters or is loud, The beggar with the saucer in his hand Asks only a penny from the passing crowd, So, from this glittering world with all its fashion, Its fire, and play of men, its stir, its march, Let me have wisdom, Beauty, wisdom and passion, Bread to the soul, rain where the summers parch. Give me but these, and, though the darkness close, Even the night will blossom as the rose.