Monthly Archives: November 2011

Late night fun for new project

Nat Hall,
nordicblackbird


after the blog,
myspace, twitter… the blackbird now sings on soundcloud.com


thanks to a pal, who posts as well and inspired.


The first two tracks were recorded just a little while ago, at a time when poetry was turned into sound. We were then experimenting with the spoken word as narrative inside a song when the words were not sung altogether…
Some never made it to the project. So they now have a new home and purpose. 
More will follow, as material fills folders. 


I still remember poet, editor and performer, John Hudson, telling me that my voice was my brand when performing poetry. There, you go, John – I have found a nouveau souffle through this platform. 


And I intend to have fun with it.


Have added the site in the “HOMEWORLDS” Section on the right hand side of the blog. 


And now to the kindred spirit who inspired,


You find him here:

Thank you, dear Al 🙂

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Filed under 2011, 60N, geopoetics, poet, poetry, project, spirit, verse, wordplay

glimpse of light

in between gales


sequence


a triangle of light appeared out of the gloom grey…
Not much at first, from SSE. It’s just past noon. A NNW gale blows, overriding storm force winds from earlier this morning.

Contrasts belong to cardinal points.
A few minutes, as I look west. That gale wipes clean-crisp back to blue (oh, not for long). I love the old manse against that less dramatic background. 
At its zenith, our star’s elevation barely reaches 7.34Âş – temperatures have plummeted since gales have ravaged the island.

Looking SSW.
By lunchtime, light shines without shame,
but soon low clouds regain position by the hill! Our afternoon light last about three hours…  


Still from SSW

As soon as our sun begins to set, I need to seek shelter once again,
as  cold rain beads slash the double pane of my window. 
A grey-filled sky darkens my world; only a tiny glimpse of light acts a rebel.

I am day-dreaming of first snow, as dusk settles.

A mix of rain, slush and hailstones crashed on the glass, so why not now. And when I look back towards west, an angry sky begins to show… Welcome to the claws of winter, just as those from the wolverine that dwells inside the boreal forest. 

In time for night, the wind still howls through that gigantic megaphone, though its triads lose frequency. Somehow it became a little bit more Wagnerian! 

And speaking of the boreal world, I shall leave you with a more seasonal string of haiku.

Wings of change –
raven at north junction,
in search of excess carrion.
#haiku fae 60N

DĂ©shabillez-moi –
when first frost starves gardens from sap,
they yield to the wind in a nude.
#haiku fae 60N

Lean times –
wolverine paws in single white,
the raven has to be patient.
#haiku fae 60N


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Filed under 2011, 60N, colours, geopoetics, haiku, home, images, island, north, poet, wind, winter

Around the eye of the storm

Precipitated re-entry in winter


Just like a dream.
Inside this great universal cycle, I somewhat lost sense of November. Somebody said there was nearly something wrong with the system… African air filled November. The island warmed, for a moment, to suspended meaning of summer – the very one we never felt on the island! 
Last Sunday felt  so weird when I stood in the middle of my sand-bridge. Warm air currents flowing around as if they ignored the meaning of winter… 


And now it’s time to re-enter the spirit of winter.

Entrance to the Café, with terrace
in summer.

I first felt it when I jumped off my car on Friday morning… Gale-force winds turned so ferocious raindrops mutated into hail. And by the time dusk overrode day, we gathered for a hot chocolate at The Peerie Shop by the old harbour, the air turned cold. For a minute, I thought we might be christened with a flurry of snow. 


Now we really feel back in winter. 


Stormdays follow storm nights.


The sky turns black by mid afternoon and empties itself in horizontal style. Tucked inside my oilskin, I haste each pace. Roof tiles dance without shame – the marine forecast reads hideous. I pray our local fishermen moored their vessels in safe havens until wind speed recedes and blows a moment of respite. We are accustomed to the gales. They come, hiss and go. The island turns a ghost rock. The safest place remains by the hearth. So little light lets you glimpse though the edge of the storm.  Our avian friends, wren, robin and blackbird, remain tucked in between the stones of our neighbours’ wall. They sometimes perch on the ramskull that crowns Richard’s totem, as if they wished to defy each outburst of the storm. However, their act of resilience does not last long. Safety on the ground prevails. The forecasters issued an Amber alert for wind for tomorrow with brighter skies… I keep an eye on the windsock. Rain remains rain as long as winds blow from a southerly direction. Should they veer N or NW-N, I will salute the first snowflakes of the season. My heart’s puzzled. They’re late this year. 




The shipping forecast reads back to more seasonal expectations. 

Let’s go back to Kate’s Words for Snow. “Flegme des neiges, Mistral despair… Terror blizzard – creaky-creaky”


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Filed under 2011, 60N, Arcania, atlantic, earth, geopoetics, home, images, island, shore, wind, winter, writing

Pirate

Changement de pavillon linguistique


Le nomadisme ne connaît pas de frontière!
Cela me chatouillait depuis quelque temps… A bon traducteur Google, salut!
C’est en surfant sur le blog copain quĂ©bĂ©quois de La TaversĂ©e que je me suis dit,

“Eh bien quoi, pourquoi pas un petit dĂ©tour gĂ©opoĂ©tique SPECIAL FRANCOPHONE POUR UNE FOIS?” Après tout, cela ne fait de mal Ă  personne!
Que mes lecteurs se dĂ©lectent dans une langue qui fait le bonheur des deux cĂ´tĂ©s de l’Atlantique Nord 🙂 


Pour toutes celles et tous ceux qui ne connaissent pas cet atelier de gĂ©opoĂ©tique, allez donc surfer sur le lien suivant (que vous trouverez Ă©galement sur le cĂ´tĂ© droit du blog sous l’inscription: “Constellations”)



BenoĂ®t, Victoria et les amis de La TraversĂ©e, bonjour du milieu de l’Atlantique!




Mr Kenneth White ne cesse d’agrandir son archipel et regarder le monde Ă  partir d’une Ă®le se rĂ©vèle Ă  la fois fort agrĂ©able et aventureux, puisque la longue vue vous permet, Ă  partir d’une pĂ©ninsule, la vision hyper-grand angle… Une longue vue, voire un tĂ©lescope! Quel bonheur de se trouver balayĂ©(e) par les vents, maquillĂ©(e) par les embruns tout en se disant que, de toute façon, mieux vaut les odeurs d’iode et de kelp pourri que celles des abattoirs ou des longues queues aux embouchures d’autoroutes… Ha-ha, la vie d’insulaire sur cette latitude a le goĂ»t de sel! 


Chers amis du Canada, et du monde francophone,
je vous suis sur vos blogs respectifs, et j’aime vous lire quelque soit la langue choisie.
Ce mode d’expression reflette assez bien l’esprit de Kenneth White, qui se plaĂ®t Ă  converser oralement ou Ă  l’Ă©crit dans ces deux langues, que je considère “jumelles”.

A bon voyageur, salut, et bonne traversée!


Hissez haut, hissez haut!


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Filed under 2011, 60N, atlantic, Canada, celebration, geopoetics, home, island, kenneth, north, shetland, shore, white, writing

from Crafty Green Poet: Oceans – a film

http://craftygreenpoet.blogspot.com/2011/11/oceans-film.html

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Le(s) Peuple(s) Migrateur(s)

Migration


We, who follow the sun.


For millennia, or at least, since our homeworld became inhabited by animals, most species (including our own!) have endeavoured such perilous treks across the vast expanses of continents, across oceans, via ancient land bridges. Man has invented rafts of all shapes and sizes to defy the even larger expanses of water. New lands, from atolls to entire continents, have been colonised in such ways.  If only a few nomadic tribes still roam the most remote parts of our world, the vast majority of us have become sedentary. The invention of farming has turned the page forever, as settlements began to appear. Kingdoms, duchies & principalities later reinforced the trend; the concept of nationalism, nation-states & the invention of the passport ultimately sealed the fate for many of us… However, and as man invented imperialism, newer forms of migratory movements began to appear. Today, the concept of globalisation regulates (as much as it can) human migration according to “economic” needs. The old European & North American continents have turned into fortresses, an El Dorado, to many men, women and children, either in search of a better life or persecuted in their own homelands, whilst the Asian and African continents providing incessant and cheaper labour… (Mind you, within our own continent, the masses act as such in their own way). Migration, either within or from one to another island or continent, forced or voluntary, continues. 

Fish, sea mammals and other dwellers of the great big blue  do so solely for survival & natural life cycle purposes. Birds, on the other hand, as members of the avian kingdom, have, just like butterflies and moths, wings. No creatures need passports. They follow the cycles of our homeworld in the most natural ways. The only thing they are bound to is life. 


Now, and just as I enjoyed reading Juliet Wilson’s blog entry about her reaction to Oceans – the film – earlier on today (please click on link post above), I cannot help but add my stone to the edifice.
Jacques Perrin  is as passionate as Sir David Attenborough when it comes to the natural world. He is a French actor and producer, with a formidable and poetical eye for the world he lives in. Together with partner in crime Jacques Cluzaud, he has signed tremendous wildlife documentaries, including Microcosme (Microcosmos) and Le Peuple Migrateur, or Winged Migration.


Here, Le Peuple Migrateur, for pleasure.


Oceans remains to be enjoyed 🙂

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Filed under 2011, 60N, birds, celebration, earth, geopoetics, home, review, shore, world, writing

50 Words for Snow

Revealed 


It’s just past midnight and it feels like Christmas! 
All the reviews read unanimous,
Kate’s ten studio album, 50 Words For Snow, is her latest masterpiece.


A formidable tour de force, Kate releases not only one, but a second album in one year! Director’s Cut revisited a patchwork of old songs revamped to suit her taste as fully finished work… In its footsteps follows a mystical album, fresh from her world. For your pleasure: Kate’s home site: Fish People

It is a seasonal hymn to joy, as much as Aerial in its very own right.


It is currently downloading in ” my little black box” (iPod’s) iTunes… It is already imprinted in my heart. And if you want to give it a first listen before you order it, 
please visit: 50 Words For Snow 

Thank you, Kate, for a wonderful
album. Wild Man was a magical hors d’oeuvre!


With all the very best wishes, Kate & The Fish People! 

With grateful, very grateful thanks for the photographs,
they are wonderful!

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Filed under geopoetics, poetry, review, snow, spirit, winter, writing, Yuletide