Category Archives: philosophy

Ghosts on the beach

Waves swishing over beaches
Bring remnants of ocean lives
While erasing  my footprints
Which is the ghost,
Me or them?

 

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Advertisements

A poem is never finished, only abandoned

A ‘Found Poem’ from William Hazlitt – ‘Lectures on the English Poets’:

Poetry is imagination and the passions
whatever gives immediate pleasure
or pain
language which the heart holds.
It is not a mere frivolous accomplishment.
Wherever there is a sense
of beauty, or power, or harmony
there is poetry.
The rest is mere oblivion,
a dead letter.

 

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

“Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
(Tennyson)

It is 1,400 days since I fell and banged my head, I still suffer symptoms, but I wont give up…..

Worry

We worry about you, our dear boy,
as if, by worrying, we can affect
your journey through life.
It is a parent’s lot to be apprehensive.
But we must take pleasure, bury  fears,
lift our fledgling to the sky
and laugh delightedly as you fly away.
We need to grow
to trust your endurance
to give you to the universe.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Rocks

Unimaginably ancient, preserving moments in time;
billion year old pebbles from unknown floods
bones fallen into an ancient abyss
ten thousand year old footprints along an English estuary.
Sitting on a rock, you touch time.

Rocks move. They melt and set, erode to dust
and then the dust settles
forms new rock over time almost unimaginable.
This undulating plain formed at great depths
was thrust up to mountainous heights
now lies placid for your walking comfort.

Go find a rock
and travel in time and space.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

P1180416

Brief bloom

We are a brief bloom
On the fragile skin
Of a molten body
Encircling a massive furnace

We are a blossoming of sentience
With encrusted technologies
Craving wonder, hoping for company
Seeking knowledge and excitement

We truly are stardust
Our bodies built from atoms
Forged in successive stellar explosions
We crave the glories of the Universe

We are Human

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from last year

ophiuchusplanets_fairbairn_960

https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap160510.html

Islands

If every man is an island and each woman too,
what of rising tides and the oncoming sea?
Icebergs drop into frigid waters  releasing their fresh water load
corals bleach and die, damaging encircling protective reefs
plastics pervade our ocean to clog, choke and kill.
A tsunami of ill news, a tempest of emotions.

The tide is coming in,
where is your causeway?

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

To be a pilgrim

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather.
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent,
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
But he will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend,
Can daunt his spirit:
He knows, he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

John Bunyan

Although I am not religious, I was brought up within the Church of England, and we had a Christian service every morning at school. So I grew  up singing many fine old hymns that stay with me today. One such was ‘To be a pilgrim’ a poem by John Bunyan set to music by  Ralph Vaughan Williams using the traditional Sussex melody “Monk’s Gate“.  I love it deeply and thought I’d share the original poem with you today.

I know several hymns completely to heart, including Blake’s  ‘Jerusalem’ (as all good Englishwomen and cricket lovers should), as well as the lesser known ‘Hills of the North rejoice’.

Its interesting that I remember the poetic ones…..

Give me the night

Give me the night, for darkness is where creation happens.
That same night where fears emerge
in which the future cannot be seen
is also where love is made
where magic happens
where we are renewed.

Let there be light, but no, not yet.
Darkness enfolds, cherishes.
Dark matter and energy make up most of the universe
without them none of this would exist.
We were animated and brought into existence
by and in the dark.

Let us now go to the dark places for answers.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

To Stand and Stare?

How does the time disappear?
Water evaporates under direct heat.
Time evaporates
under a withering glut of
the unexpected
the unplanned
and unremembered.
Distractions distract.
People with no time steal yours
with delays and waiting.

And.
in this century,
with endless updates
on sites you should leave alone.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond