shape (15/Sept/18)

the shape of sight is what you see before your eyes… the shape of sound is what you hear all around… the shape of smell is what can fit inside your nose… the shape of touch is what you’re touching right now… the shape of air is everywhere… the shape of water is what trickles through your fingers… the shape of fire is what hides inside a flicker… the shape of earth is what’s standing in a footprint… the shape of night is found inside a shadow… the shape of day is what is in a second glance… the shape of dark is what’s been missed and overlooked…. the shape of light is what’s often mistook for a trick of the eye… the shape of a thought is not unlike a cloud and the shape of a cloud is not unlike a beautiful lie…

© 2018 robert greig

planesong (4/Sept/18)

every morn’ the lulling drone of planesong but not the kind you may have in your mind, not the chant in unison of medieval voices but the yawn that grows into a roar that morphs into an ear-splitting anger to rape the air of all its innocence and turn it inside out as it lingers and loiters until, until, until the silence finds it safe enough to fill the gaping void left quaking in its wake, which is surely the perfect word as sleep is but impossible and anyone as supine thus will surely be awoke…… some morning they will sit and sit and sit for minutes upon minutes upon minutes without seeming end taunting, or just tuning up,  burning up all thoughts or hope of sleeping in until with patience wearing thin and like a bolt out of the blue, or from the airfield, scream into the sky on their banshee wails, feverish and frenzied burning fuel as if there’s no tomorrow, scattering and shattering every single molecule that happens in their path… for minutes upon minutes upon minutes they gouge and tear and rip and shred a sky whose only crime was being there, projecting and injecting all their hypodermic anger at the hapless slapping hands upon their ears and gritting teeth within an inch of their enamel………… hours pass as hours do from one into the next as a calm descends when molecules can once again breathe a breath relieved, until…… creeping inclinations come shuddering and plundering as once again the planesong comes a-knockin’ and a-savaging and ravaging, twisting and scalding, folding all attention inside out…… such is life beneath a sky that’s daily bastardised and flung to disarray in such a way as even in the quiet one is waiting, waiting, waiting, knowing it’s not over yet……

© 2018 robert greig

jackdaws in the mist (22/August/18)

jackdaws in the mist…. probably for most not quite as romantic-sounding a gorillas but for me all the better… gorillas all good and well and to us exotic but jackdaws, now there’s something I can relate too, common as you like and pretty much everywhere here which is why most people neglect to notice them, even those few who can tell them apart from any other black bird and at best lump all such birds together as crows… their name itself most evocative and poetic methinks, as is even its scientific name, Corvus monedula, which rolls of the tongue and lips like a song-in-waiting…… etymologically a ‘daw’ is tricky but not impossible to glean a sense, usually referring to a small bird, of high- or proto-Germanic origin, perhaps, though no one will stake their reputation on it, more usually a small dark-coloured bird as in black, and may be used referring to starlings or blackbirds though none of these related in any way other than being birds… another sense of the word is onomatopoeic , a word itself a nightmare to spell, in part its call could be said to contain “daw!”, almost… but what about ‘jack’?… I’m glad you asked, or not, as I have no definitive answers… again it could be, and here comes that word again, onomatopoeic, or at least in part, as even more clearly than daw the sound of “jack!” or “chtak!” can be heard in their tuneless cry, incessantly so sometimes, and it’s far from unusual for us to make a name from a sound for something we may previously not had one…… not to mention, Jack itself being intriguing, commonly in human-speak as an affectionate or shortening for John, which in itself seems a little bizarre to my mind, how one gets from John to Jack despite the same initial is puzzling, but it’s here I find a compelling clue as the word, or name jack in English is usually used in context of labour, or labourer, of work, whether it’s mechanical or manual… where it appears its usually suggestive or indicative of such… and this is what I find compelling, as jackdaws, common among the Crow family as it happens, have been known and seen to manipulate objects to their own ends, thus using them as tools, or investigating them as such and are known to be very cunning in figuring their way around things and using foreign objects to achieve their aims, thus, could be seen in their way as industrious and using tools… hence ‘jack’… the small black labourer bird/crow( who happens to go chtak!)…… so yes, give me jackdaws over gorillas any day……

© 2018 robert greig