to fit our times. by Carol Ann Duffy, British poet laureate. commissioned by Radio Times
ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS,
a buzzard on a branch.
In Afghanistan,
no partridge, pear tree;
but my true love sent to me
a card from home.
I sat alone,
crouched in yellow dust,
and traced the grins of my kids
with my thumb.
Somewhere down the line,
for another father, husband,
brother, son, a bullet
with his name on.
2
TWO TURTLE DOVES,
that Shakespeare loved –
turr turr, turr turr –
endangered now
by herbicide,
the chopping down
of where they hide –
turr turr, turr turr –
hawthorn thickets,
hedgerows, woodland.
Summer's music
fainter, farther…
the spreading drought
of the Sahara.
3
THREE FRENCH HENS –
un, deux, trois –
do not know
that French they are.
Three Welsh lambs –
un, dau, tri –
do not know
that Welsh they baa.
Newborn babies –
one, two, three –
only know
you human be.
Only know
you human be.
4
THE GRENADA DOVE IS CALLING.
The Condor calls from the USA.
The Wood Stork calls from its wetlands.
The Albatross calls from the sea,
on the fourth day of Christmas.
The Yellow-eared Parrot is calling.
The Kakapo calls from NZ.
The Blue-throated Macaw is calling.
The Little Tern calls from Japan, calls
my true love sent to me.
The Corncrake is calling; the Osprey.
The Baikal Teal calls from Korea.
The Cuckoo is calling from England,
four calling birds.
5
THE FIRST GOLD RING WAS GOLD INDEED –
bankers' profits fired in greed.
The second ring outshone the sun,
fuelled by carbon, doused by none.
Ring three was black gold, O for oil –
a serpent swallowing its tail.
The fourth ring was Celebrity;
Fool's Gold, winking on TV.
Ring five, religion's halo, slipped –
a blind for eyes or gag for lips.
With these five gold rings they you wed,
then slip them off when you are dead.
With these five go-o-o-old rings.
6
I BOUGHT A MAGIC GOOSE FROM A JOLLY FARMER.
This goose laid Barack Obama.
I bought a magic goose from a friendly fellow.
This goose laid Fabio Capello.
I bought a magic goose from a maiden (comely).
This goose laid Joanna Lumley.
I bought a magic goose from a busker (poor).
This goose laid Anish Kapoor.
I bought a magic goose from a bargain bin, it
was the goose laid Alan Bennett.
I bought a poisoned goose from a crook (sick, whiffing).
This foul goose laid Nick Griffin.
7
THE SWAN AT COCKERMOUTH –
of a broken heart, one half.
The Mersey Swans, flying
for Hillsborough, wings of justice.
Two, married and mute on the Thames,
watching The Wave.
A Swan for Adrian Mitchell
and a Swan for UA Fanthorpe,
swansongs for poetry.
The Queen's birds, paired
for life, beauty and truth.
8
ONE MILKED MONEY TO MEND HER MOAT.
Two milked voters to float her boat.
Three milked Parliament to flip her flat.
Four milked Government to snip her cat.
Five milked the dead for close-up tears.
Six milked the tax-payer for years and
years and years…
Seven milked the system to Botox
her brow.
Eight milked herself – the selfish cow.
9
BUT THE DEAD SOLDIER'S LADY DOES NOT DANCE.
But the lady in the Detention Centre
does not dance.
But the honour killing lady does not dance.
But the drowned policeman's lady
does not dance.
But the lady in the filthy hospital ward
does not dance.
But the lady in Wootton Bassett does not dance.
But the gangmaster's lady does not dance.
But the lady with the pit bull terrier
does not dance.
But another dead soldier's lady
does not dance.
10
LORDS DON'T LEAP.
They sleep.
11
WE PAID THE BLUDDY PIPER
fir 'Royal Bank;
twa pipers each
fir Fred and Phil,
fir Finlay, Fraser, Frank.
Too big tae fail!
The wee dog laughed!
The dish ran awa' wi' the spoon…
We paid the bluddy pipers,
but we dinnae call the tune.
12
DID THEY HEAR THE DRUMS IN COPENHAGEN,
banging their warning?
On the twelfth day in Copenhagen
was global warming stopped in its tracks
by Brown and Barack and Hu Jintao,
by Meles Zenawi and Al Sabban,
by Yvo de Boer and Hedegaard?
Did they strike a match
or strike a bargain,
the politicos in Copenhagen?
Did they twiddle their thumbs?
Or hear the drums
and hear the drums
and hear the drums?
Finished The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. This is a prequel to my favorite book ever, The Shadow of the Wind.
This is very different from Shadow of the Wind but it's still great.
Here's the synopsis from the back of the book--I don't want to spoil anything, because this is really good.
"In an abandoned mansion at the heart of Barcelona, a young man, David Martin, makes his living by writing sensationalist novels under a pseudonym. The survivor of a troubled childhood, he spends his nights spinning baroque tales about the city's underworld. But perhaps his dark imaginings are not as strange as they seem, for in a locked room deep within the house lie photographs and letters hinting at an unsolved mystery.
Like a slow poison, the history of the place and an impossible love bring David close to despair. But then he receives a letter from a reclusive French editor, Andreas Corelli, who makes him the offer of a lifetime. He is to write a book unlike any other - a book with the power to change hearts and minds. In return, he will receive a fortune, perhaps more. But as David begins the work, he realzies that there is a connection between this haunting book and the shadows that surround his home.
Set in the turbulent 1920s, The Angel's Game takes us back to the gothic universe of the Cemetery of Forgotten Books and the Sempere & Sons bookshop, in a masterful tale about the magic of books and the darkest corners of the human soul."
what I came across while shopping
must fight off other predators
finally...
What would it take to get you to start a new life on a new world?
Sponsored by AVATAR. In theaters December 18. Buy tickets now.
Nothing short of a catastrophic natural or political disaster. The vast majority of my ancestors were not explorers; they were refugees, in a sense. They fled poverty, hunger, and religious persecution. I couldn't leave my home for anything less than that, either.
The Cylon tester is now operational and Adama and Roslin each want the other to get tested first. Adama thinks it's a good idea for people to have confidence in the president and Roslin remembers that the captured Cylon told her that Adama was another Cylon.
It's hard for her to doubt that when he starts acting very strangely. He's distracted a great deal of the time, and he's been making mysterious phone calls and takes a ship, leaving no flight plan.
Turns out he isn't doing Cylon business--he's picking up Col. Tigh's estranged wife, Ellen.
Ellen's pretty awful. She drinks a lot (she was drunk in almost all of her scenes) and she's manipulative and just wretched.
Adama canceled his test and had Baltar test Ellen first (only one test can be done at a time and the results take 11 hours to come in). Ellen is not a Cylon, just an awful person.
(Except, of course, the "Cylon detector" is a joke and all the results will come back human. So I guess technically, she could be a Cylon after all.)
Here's Bekki's take. She didn't like Ellen Tigh, either.
this is the suckiest time of the year.
dark all the freaking time.
totally unmotivated*
I wanna crawl in bed
with a ton of gingerbread
and stay there
'til 2020
* cant' even be bothered to get rid of the pink angel.
What's the worst book you've ever read?
If a book is really, really crappy I will put it down. Crappy as in bad prose and a boring plot. So "worst" to me means books that I have read all the way through and still hated. Wuthering Heights is definitely up there. I hated all the characters. I mean, really loathed them. I wanted them all to die horrible deaths. Heart of Darkness gets the prize for most boring book. It wasn't very long, but good heavens was it tedious.
