Saturday, 29 of August of 2015

Tom Hirons – Sometimes A Wild God

Rootwomen

inspiration_room
Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

The dog barks.
The wild god smiles,
Holds out his hand.
The dog licks his wounds
And leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say
a96811_a506_giraffesAnd give him the worst of your food.
He sits at the table, bleeding.
He coughs up foxes.
There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,
You close the door and
Tell her it’s fine.
You will not let her see
The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey
And you pour a glass for him,
Then a glass for yourself.
Three snakes are beginning to nest
In your voicebox. You cough.

wild_animalOh, limitless space.
Oh, eternal mystery.
Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.
Oh, miracle of life.
Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,
Expectorate the snakes and
Water down the whiskey,
Wondering how you got so old
And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag
Made of moles and nightingale-skin.
He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,
Raises an eyebrow
And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.
Otters rush from the darkness.
The snakes pour through your body.
Your dog howls and upstairs
Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.
You dance with the sparrows.
A white stag pulls up a stool
And bellows hymns to enchantments.
BearEatsChineseFoodA pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.
Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.
Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.
The hills echo and the grey stones ring
With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,
The house takes off from the ground.
Clouds climb through the windows;
Lightning pounds its fists on the table.
The moon leans in through the window.

The wild god points to your side.
You are bleeding heavily.
You have been bleeding for a long time,
Possibly since you were born.
There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’
Asks the wild god and you say:
‘I was busy surviving.
The shops were all closed;
Fine_ArtI didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and
The snakes in your arms and
The wren and the sparrow and the deer…
The great un-nameable beasts
In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.
A cacophony of dissent.
The wild god nods his head and
You wake on the floor holding a knife,
A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.
Your wife is stirring, far above.
Your cheeks are wet with tears;
Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.
A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine
And brings the dead to life.

Tom Hirons
Lughnasadh Summer 2012 Earth First!
 


Sid Bridges – Our Hubris and Extinctions

CTNMU130_Reconyx_Anteater
Kenneth_Worthy
We, the thinking animals, are outsmarted by the African
Anteater as depicted in a nature film. The anteater on
the African savanna mainly feeds on termites whose mounds
dot the savanna. The hungry anteater spends two minutes
scraping a hole in the outer shell of the mound and spends
one minute licking up termites with his lengthy tongue,
then he leaves and goes to another mound. In this way he
never decimates the termite population and leaves food for
other termites. The mound also provides a home for birds
and even small owls. The mound Is well insulated
and provides safety from prairie fires.

Compare that to the behavior of the thinking animal. Many
of us have seen the mammoth ocean trawlers dumping their
equally mammoth nets onto the trawler’s decks. Species
that humans don’t eat, already dead, are dumped back into
the ocean. The ocean floor is often scraped and scoured
eliminating future generations of ocean life. Cod fishing
on the grand banks is defunct. It has gone the way of the
passenger pigeons, by the same cause. Nature, deemed by
man, as mindless, manages to preserve and insure life’s
continuity. Nature preserves what has taken millions of
years for her to build. It preserves the ecosystem, while
the thinking animal talks preservation, but does little.
So the question is, is man smarter than the anteater?

Humans have the habit of exterminating creatures without
knowing what purpose they provide in nature. The only
good thing petroleum ever did was to provide the oil that
replaced whale oil once used to light homes and other uses
of oil. Prior to the use of fossil fuels to replace whale
oil, we were hunting whales to near extinction. Now we
know that whale fecal matter provides needed nutrients for
the rest of the creatures of the sea. Then, there is the
small wasp without which we would not have brazil nuts.

Are we smarter than nature’s anteater?


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