Sydney Literary Nonsense Poetry and Sky Mirror Poem

Hi, it’s Green. Great news from Sydney, where Grey seems to be having a fun time touring around the city. Here’s the latest two blogs from the Werewolf of Oz. It’s followed by a new Folding Mirror poem from our ol’ pal, Marc Latham on the fmpoetry site.

Dr. Watson and the Case of a Greycliffe House Mouse

greycliff house, vaucluse, sydney, photo by Sa...

We didn’t like the sound of Hunters Bay, so we headed over to the Sydney Harbour National Park, where I really liked the name of the headquarters and visitor centre: Greycliffe House.

Dr. Watson of Watsons Bay

Arriving at Greycliffe House, I was surprised to see that it was neither particularly grey nor built on a cliff.

I introduced myself to a gentleman there, and he told me his name was Dr. Watson of Watsons Bay.

I asked him why the house was called Greycliffe when it wasn’t a very good description. He apologised for not knowing, and said a man who probably would know, called Holmes, was off visiting some other homes for another inquiry at the moment.

The Greycliffe House Mouse

Not long after I’d thanked Dr. Watson and turned away,
in a triangular hall containing a square ball,
I was accosted by a small mouse of my colour grey.

It said its name was Cliff and the house was named after him,
I replied it was built in 1852 so how could that be true,
It said it was on a special diet and low-fat cheese kept it quiet.

I thought, Now, that’s nonsense.

The Barangaroo Kangaroo is Just a Short Hop or Two

A Kangaroo in Australia.

It was getting late,
and I didn’t want to wait,
but the others were deep,
in conversation of sleep,
so I had forty winks,
and fourteen thinks.

The Barangaroo Kangaroo 

I was awoken by the others,
who said a lady named Carruthers,
and her five brothers,
were heading to Bronte‘s Wuthers,
and we could go along,
if we didn’t take too long.

So I jumped up, leaving twelve intellectual thoughts behind, and taking two nonsense ones along.  We ran to the beach, and got picked up soon after by a ferry taxi.

The captain was a kangaroo
who said it lived in Barangaroo.
Down on Darling Harbour,
south of Goat Island’s ardour.
Above Sydney aquarium’s
somewhat fishy delirium.

I thought, how convenient; and said that it must be nice living just a short hop or two from so many interesting places.

 

The Day of Double Eastern Delight
northern hemisphere amaranth again in morning
as our star lights up the sunrise horizon
constellations replaced by bright light
the sun rises into view
azure allure as orb wings westward
day’s gold sets in evening
Venus emerges with new darkening
but east does not turn sapphire to ebony
amaranth emerges once again reflecting sunset
Enhanced by Zemanta

New Poem about a Sunset that lit up the East

Venus reflected in the Pacific Ocean
Image via Wikipedia
Marc Latham’s latest Folding Mirror poem was inspired by a recent sunset that lit up the evening from west to east, after there had also been a great sunrise.
The Day of Double Eastern Delight  
northern hemisphere amaranth again in morning
as our star lights up the sunrise horizon
constellations replaced by bright light
the sun rises into view
azure allure as orb wings westward
day’s gold sets in evening
Venus emerges with new darkening
but east does not turn sapphire to ebony
amaranth emerges once again reflecting sunset
Marc Latham’s central site is the Greenygrey (http://www.greenygrey.co.uk).

Sydney, Australia Adventures in the Werewolf of Oz

Hi, it’s Green. Grey’s been blogging a lot lately, so just got the latest three Werewolf of Oz blogs into the Greenygrey world, and need a rest now. It’s greyt to see Grey enjoying itself in Sydney, meeting Paddington Bear and Spit the Dog’s descendents. Cheers.

Arriving in Sydney, Booked by Bronte

Whales in a Sitka Sunset

Moon moves milky
waves washing whales
rising rolling roaming
entrancing ethereal eternal.

Sighting Sydney is a Sight for Sore Eyes 

Sea and shore had been serenely silent for seventeen hours, with only the appearance of moon wave whales worthy of recording here.

Then we saw Sydney on the horizon, and it looked open and peaceful, so we looked forward to landing and recovering after so many days at sea.

Just before reaching land I thought I saw a commotion out at sea, but the next moment it was gone.  None of the others seemed to have seen it, so I didn’t say anything.

There wasn’t time anyway, as we had to decide where to dock.

Docking at Sydney

Cronulla looked made of vanilla
Coogee appeared too easy
so we landed at Bronte
as it seemed to have something to say.

There was no time for wuthering
as the winds reached record heights.
We saw a woman by the name of Jane Eyre
fly head over heels all up in the air
dropping a book our way
by the name of Agnes Grey.

The book looked promising, and not at all  literary nonsense.

Into the Lair of the Paddington Bear

I wondered if a book of grey was a sign, and quickly flicked through it.  Although it was not literary nonsense, there did not seem much relevance to my life or predicament, so I did not investigate further, and donated it to the Bronte library Bronte section.

Whatever will be, will be,
and if Agnes Grey re-enters my story,
I will return to the Bronte area library,
and look it up under section Bronte.

Paddington Bear Gives us a Scare

English: Paddington Bear at Paddington Station
Image via Wikipedia

We walked up through Bondi at quite a pace, and were just having five minutes in Paddington sitting against a wall, when a bear entered the street and headed straight towards us.

He looked quite harmless dressed in an old hat and coat; and carrying a suitcase, but you never know!

He came right up to us and asked us if he was heading in the right direction for Peru.  I’d seen a boat heading to Peru from Bondi Beach, so I informed the Paddington Bear.

He thanked me, and before leaving gave us a marmalade sandwich each.

Spit the Dog Retired and Reserved in Sydney

Spit The Dog

 

We continued north to the Opera House, where we felt like proper tourists, and not bedraggled travellers from another dimension.  We found a Sydney map there, and one place stood out straight away: the Spit Reserve.  I was a big fan of Spit the Dog in Tiswas, and thought that must be where it now resided.

Crossing the Harbour Bridge to the Spit Reserve

So we made our way across Harbour Bridge to the north, with great views of starry Little Sirius Cove below. Pebbles glinted in the sunshine like stars on a clear night.

Mosman reminded me of that Mothman creature I met while one half of the Greenygrey on our epic ramble across North America.

Spit the Dog in the Spit Reserve

Spit Road led to the Spit Reserve, and I was very impressed with how respected Spit the Dog was here.

Entering the Spit Reserve was like every Spit the Dog fan’s dream, as there were dozens of its offspring all enjoying a lazy life.

They seemed very laid back compared to the original Spit the Dog, with not much spitting going on at all; I guess the passing of time in such comfortable surroundings had mellowed the spitline out.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Brisbane Photo and Werewolf of Oz Editing

Hi, it’s Green. First of all, I was just looking at Fresh Pressed on WordPress yesterday, and saw Debra Kolkka had some photos of Brisbane up on her blog. As Grey is heading that way I thought I’d repost them over to the Werewolf of Oz blog. I’ve also copied my favourite below. Looks like Grey should feel at home in Brisbane when it gets there!

20120125-084453.jpg

Secondly, our editing team at the Greenygrey have tidied up Grey’s blog from a few days ago, and the end of the blog’s before and after are below. There are two more blogs since then, and it’s all looking swell for Grey at the moment. Cheers!

Before

Warilla and Warrawong Before Wollongong

We passed Warilla, and saw gorillas warring on the beach.  I was amazed to see this, as the gentle giants are usually very peaceful.

Then we reached Warrawong, where there were many gorillas in a plentiful peace protest proclaiming war is wrong.

Wall and Gong Prevent Landing in Wollongong

The incidents we witnessed in Warilla and Warrawong spooked us out a little, and then when we approached Wollongong we could hear a deafening gong sound long before we set eyes on it.

Well, actually, we never even set eyes on Wollongong, because there was a massive fortress style wall all around it.

So we continued past it, hearing the gonging grow ever louder until reaching its zenith off Battery Park.

Somewhere between Wombarra and Scarborough we reached silence once again.

After

Warilla and Warrawong Before Wollongong

As we passed Warilla we saw gorillas warring on the beach. I was amazed to see this, as the gentle giants are usually very peaceful.

This was confirmed when we reached Warrawong, because the beach was full of gorillas holding a peace protest proclaiming war is wrong.

Wall and Gong Prevent Landing in Wollongong

We were still a little shaken by what we witnessed in Warilla as we approached Wollongong, and then we heard a deafening gong sound reach us from the north.

I wondered if we should land at Wollongong, as planned. The decision was made for us when we approached the city, because there was a massive wall all around it, just above the gong.

So we continued past it, hearing the gonging grow ever louder until reaching its zenith off Battery Park.

Somewhere between Wombarra and Scarborough we reached silence again.

 

Enhanced by Zemanta

Celebrity Big Brother Wolfophobia Works, Video Killed the Loris

Hi, it’s Harry Silhouetteof-Wolfhowlingonthehill. I thought our Andy Wolfhol was taken artistic license when he complained about wolfophobia on last week’s Celebrity Big Brother, where they had tasks with a fairy tale theme. These included a big bad wolf in Red Riding Hood and Three Little Pigs.

Wolfophobia from Show to Contestant

But on Tuesday’s highlights, one of the twins (Kristina I think) was talking about Denise in an negative way, and said she was like the big bad wolf. I doubt if she’d have thought of that analogy before the task, but about two weeks later it was still resonating in her mind when she was looking for a negative description. I hope you haven’t been affected in a similar way.

Video and Human Kindness Killed the Slow Loris

I watched a sad Natural World documentary on the BBC last night about the slow loris’s struggle to survive extinction. While humanity is largely to blame, it is mainly through kindness and empathy. They are very cute animals, like us werewolves, and when someone put a video of one being tickled up on YouTube it went viral, and then lots of people wanted one as a pet.

That was where the kindness ended, and callous greed took over. Many were taken out of the wild, and died while being transported in small suffocating cages. Others had their sharp teeth pulled out with pliers.

They are predators, and can have damaging fights with each other, but the biggest danger to their survival is the global demand for them as pets.

It’s available until 14th March in the UK on the Natural World link above or BBC address below. Don’t know about other availability. http://www.bbc.co.uk/i/b01bcp7z/

Enhanced by Zemanta

Husky Son in Huskisson, Wall and Gong in Wollongong

Hi, it’s Green. Greyt news from Grey. It seems to have recovered from its Swan Lake tragedy, and has blogged a couple of days in a row, so we’re all hopeful at the Greenygrey that it will reach the conclusion of its quest soon. We can’t wait to welcome it back. Here’s the latest two blogs brought into the Greenygrey world for your convenience:

Deutsch: Ein Wolfspitz-Sibirian Husky Welpe En...

Husky Son in Huskisson Hushes Us On

Elle took to the raft-pulling like a dolphin to water, and with the load lightened behind we reached similar speeds to the previous day.  The sea also seemed returned to normal, and it felt good to be lost in the waves, alternating time between the waterworld and skyspace.

Huskisson has some kind of Pull

We reached Jervis Bay in the evening, and thought about stopping somewhere for a meal.

As we circled the bay from the left, Vincentia did not attract us, but Huskisson seemed to be drawing us on; maybe it was because Elle and I had been doing a similar job to huskies with all the load-pulling.

Husky Son in Huskisson Hushes Us On

We were preparing to land near Elizabeth Drive, on the junction with Moona Moona Creek, when a car load of women stopped at a nearby junction.

The driver mooned at us twice. Her front-seat passenger berated her, shouting ‘Elizabeth, will you stop mooning or we’ll be up the Creek without a paddle; there’s a husky father and son just over there. Elizabeth, drive on now.’

The husky son just chuckled, and hushed us on.

Collection of The University of Wollongong, Wo...

Wall and Gong in Wollongong Keeps us Going On

We continued north up the east coast, thinking we’d overnight in Wollongong.  We stopped in Shell Cove to re-energise, and were served by a friendly snail called Michelle.

Her shell reminded me of lobsters, and I told her I hadn’t seen any around. Michelle replied with the Ode of Shell Cove:

There were 110 lobsters eating pears
contentedly up a crab-apple tree.
When along came a storm
and swept them out to sea.
They made themselves at home
and decided that’s where they’d be.

Warilla and Warrawong Before Wollongong

We passed Warilla, and saw gorillas warring on the beach.  I was amazed to see this, as the gentle giants are usually very peaceful.

Then we reached Warrawong, where there were many gorillas in a plentiful peace protest proclaiming war is wrong.

Wall and Gong Prevent Landing in Wollongong

The incidents we witnessed in Warilla and Warrawong spooked us out a little, and then when we approached Wollongong we could hear a deafening gong sound long before we set eyes on it.

Well, actually, we never even set eyes on Wollongong, because there was a massive fortress style wall all around it.

So we continued past it, hearing the gonging grow ever louder until reaching its zenith off Battery Park.

Somewhere between Wombarra and Scarborough we reached silence once again.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Poem comparing war and propaganda to natural disasters

lava fountain, lava flow, Eruption column
Image via Wikipedia
Marc Latham’s latest Folding Mirror poem draws an analogy between natural disasters and human wars. Are human wars as natural, unpredictable and unstoppable as earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Human history up to the current time suggests so. The poem is shaped like a volcanic eruption, with the lower half of the poem preceding the upper half narratively.
Here’s the poem:
Natural Disasters
nuclear winter clouds all
bombers above radar
missiles fly silent
artillery arches
shellshock
war erupts out of earthquake words
propaganda
leaders launch
masses find voice
ideology under religion
culture clash tectonic impact
Marc Latham’s central site is the Greenygrey (http://www.greenygrey.co.uk).