Killers -- by Mimitig

.

.

Shock
When I find a corpse
At the top
Of the stairs

Or kindly dropped
On the duvet

I shudder, reach for newspaper and
Plastic bags

I have to get rid of
The body

I don’t examine how
It died

Or even if it is
Completely dead

Disposal is my solution

I try to reach a balance
With my furs

I have to deal with what they bring me

Their last treasure was
A crow

Gloriously black and blue in feather
Wondrous

They caterwauled to
Make me know
That at the door was
Death

Cats with mouths full
They make an unmistakable
Meeowish, purrish sound

I looked upon the corpse
I screamed and cried

“Cover your face, mine eyes dazzle”
I could only weep
Bright black eyes blanked in death

I did the biz
Disposed of the corpse
The cats did not object

Then I wondered –
Was this real?

A big black crow brought home?

Perhaps a child’s toy
A stuffed bird

My cats playing a joke
No
Checked
They did bring home
A
Big
Black
Bible
Black
Crow

They have been raised too much
On Dylan Thomas and
Nick Cave

What will they bring home next?
.

Green Elephant Travels, 2

.




This group were a little dishevelled by the time they reached Thailand.
.

from Cold Spring - a Diary -- by Beyond the Pale

12th day

Spring wind
loosened her kimono
from her legs.
Nature no respecter of persons
in the spring wind,
has opened
her shop.
The spring wind
blows through the balustrade.





15th day

A sound from far away.
Days of mist and haze.
May well feel bored and listless.
Wouldn't really know
a glowworm from a lantern
floating on top of a boat
through the dark spring haze.


.
19th day

Today also,
living in the haze —
a large house
under the redwoods,
a lost man
passing in the mists,
many cars
going by like boats.
Faces without names,
shrouded in a mist.



26th day

A long day.
My eyes are weary.
O, the days that are no more.
So glad they're over.
The cat drifts in sleep
beneath the sound
of the spring wind
in the redwoods.
The raccoons rumble on the roof.



27th day

The morning expedition.
Baby sparrow
under the sink
leaks little chirps.
Mind in the way.
Mr. Worm is coming.







30th day

When I felt the spring rain
falling on my head
through the hole in the roof
I went out into the garden
knelt down
shed stupid tears
at the foot of the century tree
smelled things under the ground
turning to mulch
then went back inside
and listened to the distant sound
of ocean waves
pounding against the shore
in the spring rain.

Miscalculation -- by Zephirine

.
One time on the Algarve coast
we drove through dull suburbs
for a long while
then suddenly the road came out
into open space
with a few pine trees
and there was the sea
beside us
gleaming
delightful in the sun
there
just beyond the roadside grass

We stopped
the three men got out
and charged full speed across the turf
aiming merrily for a flying leap
four or maybe only three feet
down onto the beach
and then to meet the waves

Two seconds later
flung themselves
back
off balance
flailing arms
and
only just
to a staggering stop
at the edge
the very edge

Quickly we joined them
looking down
down
down
down
a bare iron-red cliff-face to a beach
far far below
distant stones and rocks
the gleaming delightful
waiting sea

The road had gone uphill
without us noticing
taking us a hundred feet
above sea level
maybe more

Someone said : “Fuck.”

We got back into the car and drove on

No one ever mentioned it again
.

What d'you mean...

.


... you don't know anything about classic Japanese cinema?

Go over to the Annexe and read all about it. Lots of clips too.
.

Winter Count -- File

.

(File Tribe Year 2008)

.
Among the Plains tribes of North American Indians there exists a custom of recording the year in a pictogram. These have come to be known as the Winter Count and they represent a significant event that happened in that year.

The Winter Count of one year was usually a single, simple symbol and was often incorporated into a series which carried the history of the tribe in a visual temporal map.

Tribal elders were responsible for remembering the stories that accompanied these Winter Counts and would pass them on verbally to the others in the tribe, who in turn did the same as the elders themselves passed on. This way the generations of each tribe kept a tangible record of their own history, they were usually marked on a single tanned buffalo hide, and also kept alive the custom of oral dissemination of history through stories.

More information can be found here:
http://www.trailtribes.org/greatfalls/since-time-immemorial.htm (scroll down to Reckoning Time)
http://www.telusplanet.net/public/mtoll/winter.htm
http://www.sdhistory.org/mus/ed/ed%20buff18.html
… but it should be noted that the practice of adding dates and/or text is usually recent and many old Winter Counts have been ‘updated’ in this way since their original creation.

Others may want to join me in creating and posting their Winter Count. Ours, chez file, was very easy to decide on as we relocated from Asia to North America but it could represent any significant happening for you or your ‘tribe’ in 2008. Artistic ability is really not important, see mine, only the wish to share with Others your tribal history.

(Blackfeet Year of Smallpox (1864))

.

Winter Count -- Zephirine

.
OK, here's mine. A bit sad really (passed my Mad Cat Lady Grade V now) but with two of them arriving together the little dears did kind of dominate the year:

Zeph Tribe 2008: Year of Two Cats


.

Moment, February 2nd -- by Zephirine

.

.

Small bright pink anorak bobs along above the wall
little Asian girl riding on her Dad's shoulders to see snow
Into the park full of shouting boys, the Dad laughing in the snowflakes
falling thick and fast around her big smile

.