Birds Talking – Poem JK.Leahy©
Birds Talking
Silent words, only seen
Scratching, screeching and bursting to surface
Extending wings, feathers, beaks and necks
Swooping, flying, walking and talking
Birth by imagination
Birds taking forms
Living on paper
I recently found this website poetryreincarnations and the links to videos of the poetry. The videos are beautiful and the animation are quite strange and amusing at the same time. I hope you can visit and enjoy.
Jim Clark, the creator of poetry reincarnations writes, here is a virtual movie of the great Charles Dickens reading his beautiful melancholic poem “Autumn Leaves” This poem likens the aging process with the season of Autumn was published under the title “George Edmund’s Song” around 1858. The poem is read superbly by the celebrated veteran Australian actor director Peter O’Shaughnessy. Peter has a brilliant website full of biographical and theatrical content and numerous recitals of poetry and plays spoken by him.
All rights are reserved on this video recording copyright Jim Clark 2011
George Edmunds’ Song…………
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood’s day,
Thick clust’ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither’d leaves, wither’d leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Here is another video. If you like it, visit here to see more.
This is a unique flash fiction challenge where Barbara W. Beacham provides a new photo and the first sentence of a story each week. The challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words. This challenge runs from Monday to Sunday.
A Friendly Visit – JK.Leahy Short Story©
He thought he found the perfect hiding spot.
Near dad’s cabinet, the curtains moved.
Black feet peeked from under and two green eyes pierced through the curtain. It was a dog. We didn’t have a dog, and neither did Jessy.
My mind went back to yesterday.
“I don’t want you to play with Jessy”
Why not mother?”
“You are eight and he’s 16, and there is something weird about that boy”.
“Like what mother?”
“Those large green eyes – when he grins, I cringe”.
“That’s not fair mother!” I yelled and ran to my room.
Today, my parents went to dad’s work party. Aunty Anne was coming over, but she was late. Jessy stopped by. We played video games and then I went to the toilet. When I returned, Jessy was nowhere to be found…
“Jessy! Where are you?”
“I’m right here”.
The lounge was not big at all. I shivered.
“I’m here stupid! Find me!” Jessy growled.
Hi friends and followers,
if you see strange things happening on my front page, I apologise. I am trying to revamp my blog for better navigation and hopefully this would make it easier for you to find posts you are looking for, to read. The revamping will be happening this week and I promise to try to keep the disturbance at a minimum level. Should you see a blank page, know that I am working on it as fast as my minimal techie skill can allow me to.
Thank you for your patience and your continued readership.
TribalMystic
A camera means more new pictures will be seen on Tribalmystic stories. It also means I can share my garden with you, virtually.
I got myself a ‘real’ camera today. A Nikon D5200. It may not be a Pro level camera and not what I was aiming for, but I have not had an SLR for nearly twenty years so I am thrilled. My son Nathan loaned me some money for it. When my younger son Chris and I arrived home, guess who already had the package opened and was handling it – Chris!
Mum was cooking and giving stern instructions from the kitchen for Chris to wash his hands first and not leave any greasy prints on the lens or any part of the camera. Poor Chris…I’m sure he was just laughing inside his head. Who tells a 16-year-old what to do these days? Know the feeling when your kids play with your stuff?
Then, the little bugger went off and charged the battery and started taking pictures. Oh well…I guess he was just as excited as I was, even when he pretended he wasn’t.
There was some light left and I went for a quick walk in the garden to try the camera with some very curious bystanders. I shall show the ‘bystanders’ on Tribalmystic stories later. These are pictures of Salmanea Saman, often referred to as the false powder fluff – not the stuff you wear on your make-up though.
I have to get my photography grove back. Let me know what you think of my first pictures. Thank you.
The Serpentine Pavilion made my Cool Stuff list. What does the serpentine pavilion look like? Below is the 2014 The Serpentine Pavilion. But, check out this year’s pavilion (above) which looks just like a rainbow caterpillar. Spanish creators José Selgas and Lucía Cano explained that this year’s serpentine pavilion was an experiment that plays with coloured, translucent and mirrored plastic sheets.
“We want to test different materials and in this case it is EFTE (plastic)” Selgas said. The architects want visitors to use it, walk through, sit in it and interpret the serpent – freely.
The Guardian called the 2015 serpentine pavilion London’s psychedelic maze that drew colours from summer and rainbow.
Selgas Cano are never shy about experimenting with wild colours, and their summer structure for the Serpentine Pavilion is no exception. This strange rainbow cocoon looks like a childish scribble that has been enlarged, changes colour as you wander through it – and is a perfect party pavilion for the annual Serpentine commission’s 15th birthday.
Those interested and if you are in London – you can step into London’s psychedelic new maze now. If you are not able to see it, click on the link below to watch the video.
The clash of religion and culture – the fight that almost brought the House down How many times do we hear about religion and culture clashing?Does someone’s personal belief make it right for them to destroy a nation’s heritage? Religion versus culture and vice versa is a topic that often raises concerns around the world. In 2013, I remember protesting against the destruction of 19 cultural objects in the Papua New Guinea (PNG) national parliament house on Facebook, with many others. Our National Speaker who comes from Morobe Province, decided that he did not want the 19 statues that represented the provinces to be in the chamber. He ordered the removal and destruction of the statues, build with the house by the first prime minister, Sir Michael Somare.
Ryan Shram write this very interesting article about the incident and discusses the argument about religion and culture in the material world. Ryan goes even deeper into the history of the house and the country. Click here to read this story. While I am a christian, I treasure the beliefs and good traditions of my ancestors in Melanesia, and especially in PNG. My grandmother was a great believer of both – you learnt the christian ways and you also use your traditions because that is what your identity is. Your heritage is also one that has given birth to you and there are so many great things you can learn from your culture through your beliefs, foods, celebrations, rituals and many more. It is not easy to separate yourself from your culture and your heritage – unless you choose to. Traditional medicine healed Melanesians and other indigenous people before European medicine came. The rituals and spiritual practices provided – food, water and shelter and created sharing, love and healing in a community that was balanced with nature. All the practices were connected to and derived from nature and the environment. There are traditions in Melanesian heritage that are not good. These include sorcery and witchcraft, confusion between what is an ailment and what is a spiritual curse, the Big Man syndrome (the act of thinking you are wealthier and better with more status so you could manipulate and have several wives). The treatment of women and girls as second class is another Melanesian culture I detest. What are your experiences of your culture and religions – please share your comments here.
Brother – Poem JKLeahy ©
In her blood – I she bore
The umbilical cord, your core
A chance life, you survived
I called you brother
Independence gained you
And took you a long mile
Long enough to hide your smile
The umbilical cord severed
The distance held you prisoner
But kept you alive in memory
When I called out – “brother!”
Wind chimed in wide yonder
You found family in strangers
Where freedom was faltered
Death sought your surrender
Our hearts mangled forever
( On your 40th Rivona)
The coconut is one of the most valuable trees in the islands across the Pacific, Asia, Latin America and Africa. The coconut tree has many uses. The nut, its husk and shells, the trunk, leaves, even the bone of a single leaf is used. Children use the leaf for toys and women weave and cook rice in the leaves. Hats, baskets, mats and many other useful items are also made from the coconut leaves.
The coconut juice, coconut oil and coconut cream have become a recent rage in nutrition and diets in the western world. Ask abungac (grandpa) Google about the many uses of the coconut.
What happens when you destroy the tree that gives life?
Watch this story in “Kinabuhi“, a Vimeo video made by Kapuluan.
This is a unique flash fiction challenge where Barbara W. Beacham provides a new photo and the first sentence of a story each week. The challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words. This challenge runs from Monday to Sunday.
The Looming JK.Leahy short story ©
The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.
The old man’s eyes widened. He blinked from the petroglyphs and stared into the sky. The interpretation led to the present. Something was happening. Yawing, seven, could sense the fear in his grandfather’s voice.
Yawing followed Old Manu’s eyes; the clouds gathered into a thick dark cover.
“What is it, grandpa?”
“There’s no time”
“No time for what?”
“Go! Get your mother!” Old Manu ordered Yawing. “We need to move quickly. It is coming for us”.
“What is coming for us?”, Yawing asked, wide-eyed. He reversed to the door.
“Go!”
Yawing quickly turned and ran to find his mother among the women at the river. He tripped and fell.
“Mother! We must leave, now”, Yawing shouted with a mouthful of sand. He spat.
“They are coming for us!”
Yawing’s alarmed voice chilled into silence, his three little sisters, playing outside their house. As they watched, he ran to their mother.
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