Real abstractions and flightless birds

It’s been a busy week and I am trying my best to be consistent about my self imposed goal of a poem a day. It keeps me tethered to the writing and I hope, helps me improve it too. I am compelled to post this second one today as it has been a productive weekend 🙂

Today’s poem is simply about communication, a tribute to the extinct Dodo and other such birds. The poem explores the prison house of language and is mostly a call to the urgent need for factual yet compassionate communication in science. It was a discussion on Wittgenstein’s ideas that piqued my interest in this and the Dodo inveigled it’s way into the poetic mix. It’s sad that some of the very animals and birds we so depend on, we tend to treat with contempt using language as a crutch. Dead as a Dodo, stupid as a donkey, silly goose etc, you get my drift.

On a separate note my library finally received the copy I ordered of ‘philosophical investigations’ by Ludwig Wittgenstein and I have managed to get through the foreword. I daresay, his ideas on language intrigue me, the ones in his latter work. The foreword was an excruciatingly laborious read so I am wondering about the rest of the translation. I am actually hoping I’ll be able to make sense of his ideas easily.

Here’s my reading list for the month and after, except the Zibaldone at the bottom of the pile. That’s my personal copy and I leaf through it sometimes when I want to enmesh myself in the thoughts of someone on an analytical hyperdrive, the same as me 😃

I can be a perfectionist sometimes (much to my detriment) so I cannot write about something until I have actually read it or done the activity, so to speak. Writing about anything for me is a very intense exercise therefore it’s easier to write about things I have done in the past as I have already been through them at least once. Poetry/art are the one place for a creative and imaginative flourishing. Nothing saves the soul like art. Bless my muses, they make me come alive !!!

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At my college library once, eons ago, I had the sweet fortune of having picked up a hundred year old copy of Darwin’s ‘On the origin of species’. I was also the only one to have ever checked that book out and the pages were as brittle as a sand dollar. I didn’t quite manage to read it in its entirety but it was a treat to explore. I hope he will bear with a spectral grin this poetic assault 😃

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Analyse this Darwin /

The rules of your game and 3.4 ounces of downy goose in an 800 fill power / baffled sentience / purely abet man’s survival in the snow so his tears are like snowflakes / while he stares drily in contempt at the defrocked bird / that knows better than to fly up a raging volcano that could mean a roast of tender sacrifice //

Your epistles of Science also eulogized the Dodo in shining sarcasms / the poor bird went the ‘way of the Dodo’ and is now quite ‘dead as a Dodo‘ / even while those sailors ate of her alongside their sneering and jeering, despite their sudden gain of wealth in protein /

I wonder if one spits an intellectual aside at food on the table / skewering fun through an interrupted evolution / A matter of perspective, yes …… //

Cultural capital I think / like a masked banditry of language, proselytizing the masses / if only they knew not to roll in the deep of intellectual deception / science could have hoisted up its own flagpole of insouciant creed /

But then …… how does one know what is real and some birds are flightless / but that, for the living goose / means being packed in pillows as it’s own ‘goose is cooked’ / The silly goose cannot fly and it’s so sadly wrong yet so somehow right too //

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On my playlist today, ‘flightless bird‘ by Iron and Wine ~ a sore analogy to extinction and I think the Dodo did this exercise best, irretrievably extinct. Superb poetry by Samuel Ervin Beam. I heard this song eons ago on the soundtrack of the first of the ‘Twilight’ series and it has found a place in my favourites ever since.

I might post a few random haikus or quatrains the next couple of days as the weekend is super busy starting now, longer poems for next week.

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