Tag Archives: blue

We are krill

A while back I half joked with a colleague at work who was asking about a website for a conference for international researchers studying krill – “I could write you a poem as well, if you like.”  He was back in touch with another question last week, and asked in passing, “Did you ever write that poem?” Well, I hadn’t, but I have now – so here you go, Andy!

My apologies to any krill-gurus out there for possible wild inaccuracies, but please remember, it’s not science – just a poem.

But also, it’s not entirely about krill…

 

We are krill

I am the meal that’s in-between,
a format suiting one and all,
for seals and squid and penguins,
converting the smallest of the sea,
for fish and shrimps and people, the
unseen convenience food that’s me.

No legends sung about us krills,
shape shifters of seven seas,
they ping us under pressure,
exoskeletons creaking we dive, dive, dive,
cosy swarm lights rising fallen,
gills bless this brine to wines of life.

More of us aswim than any other
swelling life in each ocean alive,
and not much here without us,
no great whales baleen or blue,
without some fish-free small fry,
brother, without us – me and you.

.

.

.

 

 


Vote! Vote! Vote!

BTo my delight and surprise, I’m once again shortlisted in Stanza’s Digital Slam.

My entry this year is a reading of ‘Butterfly Mind in Blue’. The poem was partly inspired by an amazing specimen in the Bell Pettigrew Museum in St Andrews, but, of course, it is about more than that.

You can see all the entries and vote here (‘Butterfly Mind in Blue’ is number 9!)

If you feel compelled to tell every person you know to drop in and vote, who am I to stop you ?!

.

.

.


Butterfly mind in blue

BI am swallowed by your impossible blue.
A jinking pulse of light caged in iridescence.
Papilio ulysses:
I learn your name, and I am lost again.
An ancient voyager sans portolan or chart,
Adrift between a dozen similar archipelagoes:
More namesakes than charades might mime
A poem, a book, a film, commander and vessel both.

‘Physics? Is that a good idea? You have a butterfly mind.’

Back, to drown once more in cerulean you.
Colour as deep as a navel sink piercing pacific aquamarines.
Feminine azure.  Alluring, pulsing, polar blue: a magnetic Penelope.
Is a hurricane winged across the world in the chaos
Of cyanophillic flickering that quickens your suitors’ hearts?
Minding them to perch on any shoe or hat or desert island mote,
As long as it is has that kick, that hue, that oh-so longed-for blue.

Smarting at seventeen: a tangential truth at fifty.

In six months or much less, you spanned a life.
Before you were fixed and pinned,
A swallow-tailed datum of mountain colour, while,
On a synchronous fugue of two hundred days flight,
A true swallow lived and slept only aloft:
Adrift without landfall, dipping and twisting
A wayward odyssey from chilly northern squalls.
Dissolved in air, immersed by day and by night,
Condensed from super-saturated skies, turned as you,
On primaries born to pure and elemental blue.
.

.

.

The Ulysses butterfly (Papilio ulysses), also known as the Blue Mountain Butterfly or the Blue Mountain Swallowtail, is a large swallowtail butterfly, endemic to Australasia.

.

.