SHAMANS DANCE AS YOU WALK

 

Today’s title comes from one of the poems below. I have been reflecting on the titles of my posts and deciding I can no longer get away with simply calling each one More Poems…

I appeared at the Lechlade Festival last weekend and had a great time. As you can see from the photograph there were a number of pirates about the place. You know I am always amazed at how responsive and creative people are. I was booked to run a poetry workshop on the Saturday and to read on the Sunday.

A Roadhouse Rooster

On the Saturday I set up shop, so to speak, and the quality of the work that was produced was excellent. One woman especially did well; her poem describing how she had arrived at the festival was very original. I am sure that this is what we were meant to do as a species, create and tell one another stories.

Swindlestock

I am an inveterate people watcher and I was struck by the number of people wearing knitted hats in the shape of different animals. Partly it reminded me of the Aztec Jaguar warriors, of how their faces appear to be in the mouths of animals. I also wondered if they had unconsciously chosen their specific headwear because the animals they wore were their power animals, their totem.

a plethora of power animals parade

acrylic machinemade

buy which takes your fancy

shamans dance as you walk

The Cadbury Sisters

My attention was drawn to the hats when I noticed a younger man wearing a tiger’s head. He had a desert camouflage jacket on and walked with a stick. I was prompted to write the following:

wounded tiger

woollen helmet

not quite here

lost in the land where

the cammo jacket is de rigueur

the music has stopped

he limps off to watch the next band

I am sure I have said before that poems are all round us. It is the role of the poet to see this and to make something of them. Here is the third poem I started last weekend. It relates to a project I am involved in with my friend Alison Wilson that combines painting and poems about Mexico. She sent me some images of a set of stone carvings and I had been thinking about them as I watched the music on the Friday evening.

The Cadbury Sister's were a musical highlight for me.

It was a combination of Alison's email, the man’s camouflage jacket and headgear that sparked the whole train of thought. No one is sure if the series of rock carvings are dancers or prisoners about to be sacrificed. Procuring prisoners for the altar was for the Aztecs the point of warfare, promotion being by the number of prisoners a warrior accrued.

Imperial, unstoppable,

brave beyond words,

take no prisoners-

but they did,

that was the point.

Does this man dance

or await the ritual butcher?

Choose your archaeologist.

Obligatory photo of the moon.

Have a good week.