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The Abyssinian sounds like it would make a very good pet. I suppose they are native to Ethiopia. I haven't Googled it though.
Thanks again for liking my passenger pigeon piece. Yes, I did write a poem about the dodo. (I mentioned it in my previous post.) https://autumnskypoetrydaily.com/202...rtin-j-elster/ I hope you had a good night's rest. :) |
Thanks, Martin; I had 5 hours, which is good, for me. Hope you slept well too.
Funnily enough, Abyssinian guineas don't come from Ethiopia but from South America; I don't know the reason for their name. There's a rather delightful example here (Ginny, being weighed as part of a health check). You're welcome for the like of the passenger pigeon piece. Sorry I missed the link; my vision was a bit blurry at the time. I've read it now and it's v.g. I had to do a lot of research on dodos while creating that children's safari section I mentioned; meet Daudi Dodo here (the kids insisted she be a ghost and pink, lol). Martin, I hope your day's going well. It's been all about admin for me and Word-Bird, but that included traipsing through the poetry archives, which was fun. I even found a moon poem from 2011 (not particularly good, but perhaps entertaining; 'us' is me and W.-B.): The Man in the Moon His cheerful features have inspired so many myths of yore, all cultures keen to claim his face as part of their own lore. The Europeans deem him bad, accuse him of some crime; the Moon is thus his prison-house where he does banished time. The Christians reckon he’s the man whom God caught stealing sticks, and death by stoning saw him off, preventing further tricks. While Germans think he pilfered hedges, Romans pilfered sheep, medieval folk pronounced him Cain, who wanders while we sleep. Perhaps John Lyly sees the light in his Endymion: about this man, nobody knows who lives beneath the sun. For us, he is a comforter who's smiling from the skies: a simply shiny happy chap with kindly watching eyes. 🌛 |
Hi Fliss,
That's a cute moon poem and I like the historical and mythological allusions. Did you know that the Moon is actually very dark? Its albedo is 0.12. Quote:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon#/...-Earthrise.jpg Daudi Dodo is a nice-looking pink dodo, as pink as a flamingo. Do you know the reason why an adult flamingo is pink? It's due to the food that it eats. Baby flamingos are not pink. It takes a while for that color to appear. Imitation Stars While you, a fork-tailed swallow, zip to Mars on winds that energize the emptiness, I founder under imitation stars, lamps turning night to day, so minicars and men can snake their way amid this mess. While you, a fork-tailed swallow, zip to Mars, relishing rocket salad grown in jars, enjoying a low-gravity caress, I founder under imitation stars to nap with rats, surrounded by the scars that score this town of broken bricks — unless you, swallowing your grudge, will zip to Mars with me in tow. But, no! Our stormy spars have flung you to some faraway address and left me foundering beneath fake stars, a body renter, loitering in bars, compelled to let the suits in charge possess my brain and swallow me. Go zip to Mars. Why founder under imitation stars? |
Hi Martin,
Thanks for liking the cute moon poem, lol. It's just one of my Wiki-poems, really, but I enjoyed the research. No, I did not know that the Moon is actually very dark; and I hadn't heard the word 'albedo' before, so I am doubly educated; thank you 8-) The neon in the Moon's exosphere is indeed cool. That's a beautiful picture of Earthrise! Thank you for admiring Daudi Dodo. 'Ooh, thank you kindly, my dear!' Daudi responds. Yes, I think I knew why an adult flamingo is pink, having encountered many of these birds during my head-trips to Safari Africa, not least to Lake Natron :>) That's an excellent poem, Martin; is it a villanelle? The images are strong and there's a lot of movement in it. I like the alliteration and the rhythm and particularly the 'rocket salad'. The N comes across as somewhat broken, which makes me sad. 'Me too' :>/ Well, by contrast I have just composed a silly simple poem based on my Man in the Moon research. F-to-Moon-Man :-) Moon-Man Hello, all. I am Moon-Man. I live on the Moon. How you puzzle upon my visage. I am criminal, prisoned; a stick-stealing goon; and all manner of odd argy-barge. I have pilfered your hedges. No, pilfered your sheep. Maybe both? Make your minds up, dears, do. I am Cain and I wander about while you sleep. No truth there; just a fiction by you. Ah, John Lyly, a humbler approach. That is good. Yes, nobody knows Moon-Man, indeed. But that said, with a fresh approach, maybe you could. It is not an impossible deed. What's required? Why, some whimsy, that's all. It won't hurt. Take me into your heart, not your mind. I am Moon-Man, as sweet as your favourite dessert. I am shiny and happy and kind. 🌚 <-- smiley moon |
This is as revision of the poem in Post #86.
Gazing Up Out of the chain store, beginning his stroll down the road to his house underneath the sky’s bowl he looks up and sees points far smaller than peas: Jupiter rising above the trees; Venus vanishing into the skyline, leashed to the sun akin to a canine; and hovering higher, Cygnus (the swan) in the Summer Triangle. Others are gone in the glare engulfing the avenue. Red, orange, yellow, white, and blue, the billion bulbs of the Milky Way— where are they hiding? Not one stray ray of light from those heavenly bodies will make it to his eyes. A strange thought floats around. He can’t shake it: Once awed by a glimpse of the glittering heavens, we’re now flittering moths drawn to 7-Elevens. |
WE COME IN PEACE
a children's poem Dear Earthlings, By now you’ve seen our spaceships as they hover in your sky. We’ve traveled far to get here and I guess you wonder why. We come in peace to meet you, here on Earth, away from home. Our reasons will be clear enough once you have read this poem. On Mars we speak a language that’s like English, but reversed, so black is white on Mars and good is bad and last is first, and when we say we’re sitting down it means we’re standing up, and when we say the dog is old it means he’s just a pup. Delicious means it tastes like dirt. I’m thrilled means I am bored. Up means down and heal means hurt and hated means adored. And when we say we’ve gone berserk it means we’re calm and staid. So when I said we come in peace it meant WE WILL INVADE! |
Hi Martin and Roger,
Thanks for returning to this thread! I think I ran out of things to write about after 'Moon-Man'. I like your latest contributions. Martin, that's a great revision; Roger, very humorous with a strong ending. I got a bit of a shock! I should probably read through the poems and think about whether any of my contributions is worth revising 🤔 Best wishes, Fliss |
Invisible Inc.
I’m one of those planets you can’t see. Just glimpse around, you won’t spot me. Above, below, be soon, be late, There’s nothing there quite half so great As invisible energy, transparent mass: I love it like your laughing gas. SETI people know enough: “E-T minds don’t have the stuff To ring Sol sans shadow.” That’s just guff. I’m right betwixt you. It must be tough For groundlings who can’t stand the heat That comes from knowing they’ve been beat. We’re all around, in several sizes. I’m just the planet who advertises. |
Good heavens! This thread (now revived) has grown to Jovian proportions since I last looked at it.
Here's one from my archives, which I've probably posted elsewhere many years ago ... The Ex-terrestrial Yes, living here was tough at the beginning; An airless desert, blistered by the sun. It’s not a place for losers; used to winning, We saw another challenge to be won. Although at first confined to plastic domes (This one was Branson’s; that belonged to Gates), We’d set our hearts on vast palatial homes With swimming pools and manicured estates. We pooled our knowhow and ill-gotten gains To siphon off Earth’s atmosphere and seas. Today, we laugh with pleasure when it rains, And sip Martinis in the evening breeze. Of course, the people back on Earth all perished When oxygen and water disappeared, But frankly, there was no one that we cherished, And life on Mars is sweeter than we’d feared. |
Thanks, Allen and Brian :)
Brian, yes, it's impressive! And I've just realised it's coming up to a year old, although there was quite a break between #104 and #105. When the schedule permits, I'm going to rewrite my eclipse poem 🌘 Best wishes, Fliss |
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