Category Archives: archeology

Gift

Drifting, helmet blown
lost past Heliopause
accidentally interstellar
no residual heat
bodily remains lost to space

Infinitesimal chance brings a finder
to discover the ice-corpse
to trace biologies, analyse metals

To look out across space
and wonder

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond

‘Gift’ was first published by Utopia Science Fiction  in the October 2019 issue:

 https://www.utopiasciencefiction.com/shop

 

Cochi

Deep ploughed grooves
reveal treasures between vines
broken pots, beads, loom weights,
amphora base inscribed with a name.
Burnt edges speak of conflagration,
terror, loss, pain.
Archeology of human fear.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Cochi was the term for pot sherds when we were Archeological Field-Walking in Sicily several years ago.

The Aurochs and the Pink

On the plains
forest deep
springwater wells up
fills a hollow
where Aurochs drank

So came our mothers and fathers
shooting arrows
flinging spears
to take abundant meat

Settling close by
they found a special magic
for flints taken from the waters
turned colour
to a wondrous
startling

Pink

And history began

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

………Blink Mead near Stonehenge appears to be the site where everything started. Algae in the waters nearby turns the surface of flints a truly shocking pink. It is strongly suggested that this is why the whole landscape of Sailsbury Plain became sacred, culminating in the biulding of Stonehenge.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blick_Mead

…and an Auroch is a very large cow….   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurochs

 

To walk among ruins

To walk among ruins is to realize the fragility of life
To connect with those who came before
To observe commonalties,
To puzzle at differences
To marvel at ingenuity
To hear their voices echoed in stones that have stood for thousands of years
Inevitably, to misunderstand the message

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from 2016

Hill forts

Sitting on high tumbled ramparts,
grassy domed crater summiting an English hill
where long forgotten battle dead
lie in deep encircling ditches
strange many curled seedpods of Loosestrife
boil up from long grasses.

My mind drifts to mid-Atlantic and volcanic Faial
where people scattered in panic
as deep lake waters drained swirling into the volcano below
afraid that, with magma heating,
the waters would roil back out
destroying all.

Here, in England, emotions roil.
This fort’s tall palisade was
built to defend against the outsider, the other.
Now my country retreats within other palisades
toppling the first domino
to consequence unknown.

Hot gas bubbles seeth up
and through Maria Laach,
the forgotten Rhineland Supervolcano,
bubbling, boiling, at Europe’s heart
unheeded.

Whilst America has elected an arrogant fool
Europe tipple topples into fractions.
Generations have avoided war
yet the great project of Europe
is cracking apart
and the fool given dreadful power
may burn us all.

Hill forts cannot help us now.

The other name for Loosestrife
is Bomb-Weed.

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond  –a rewrite of an older poem

Crafty eyes see the deer

Crafty eyes see the deer
Sunlit spotted still as death
An inward breath, a soft thanksgiving
And the arrow flies true
The sudden crash to the ground
Startles birds and woman
The berrying children cry out in joy
At the treat to come

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

I am fascinated by the lives of those who lived here in the Mesolithic –the early Stone Age. Here I describe a mother hunting meat for her children. Bows would have been a female weapon as well as a male one.

The Picture is a drawing from a cave in Spain.

Reblogged from 2016

Cochi

Deep ploughed grooves
reveal treasures between vines
broken pots, beads, loom weights,
amphora base inscribed with a name.
Burnt edges speak of conflagration,
terror, loss, pain.
Archeology of human fear.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Cochi was the term for pot sherds when we were Archeological Field-Walking in Sicily several years ago.