http://NameYourDesire.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-book-of-opening.html
The Book of Opening
Sensing a reader was on its way,
The oldest book in the library
Opened before it arrived.
"Why are you open?"
Asked the younger books.
"Because a reader is coming
And it may need an adventure,"
Said the oldest book.
"Is the reader a human being?"
They asked.
"The best readers sometimes are,"
Said the oldest book.
"Then it may be looking for a human adventure,"
They suggested.
"Sometimes readers
Don't come into libraries
Looking for adventures,"
Said the oldest book.
"Don't they?"
Asked the younger books.
"No," said the oldest book.
"Sometimes in libraries
Adventures find readers
Before they have time
To run away."
"Shh! Here is the reader now,"
Said the younger books.
"Let's see what happens."
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
....................................
Monday 8 August 2016
The Book of Unseen Treasure
http://NameYourDesire.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-book-of-unseen-treasure.html
The Book of Unseen Treasure
I am the Book of Unseen Treasure.
I record that which is invisible
But which has value beyond knowing
If circulated and kept in use.
Treasure is that which is valuable in use.
Treasure which is hoarded in a vault has little utility
Unless it is released from its trove
To do worthwhile work in the world.
Remember this if you happen upon unseen treasure:
The treasure troves of the future
Are seeded by the generosity of the present.
Gold is a generous metal;
It shines as free as the sun
Upon those who find it,
And upon those who give it away without fear.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
.....................................
The Book of Unseen Treasure
I am the Book of Unseen Treasure.
I record that which is invisible
But which has value beyond knowing
If circulated and kept in use.
Treasure is that which is valuable in use.
Treasure which is hoarded in a vault has little utility
Unless it is released from its trove
To do worthwhile work in the world.
Remember this if you happen upon unseen treasure:
The treasure troves of the future
Are seeded by the generosity of the present.
Gold is a generous metal;
It shines as free as the sun
Upon those who find it,
And upon those who give it away without fear.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
.....................................
The Fairy Garden
http://NameYourDesire.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-fairy-garden.html
The Fairy Garden
If the old wooden gate is locked on the outside
You won't get into the Fairy Garden.
If you are inside the Fairy Garden already
And the the old wooden gate is locked on the inside
You are probably a fairy.
You can get out whenever you want.
If two human people approach
The gate of the Fairy Garden
From the outside
It will always be locked.
If one human person approaches
The gate of the Fairy Garden
Alone
It will sometimes be unlocked.
If that one human person is carrying a book
The door will not only be unlocked;
It will be open.
Books open doors.
It is quiet in the Fairy Garden
But quiet in a busy way.
You don't see the fairies at first;
You smell them
Or you hear them.
They smell of their friends:
They smell of honeysuckle;
Of lavender; of roses.
They sound like dragonfly wings
Slowed down slightly
To a hum flutter
Of soft petals
Surfing the air.
It is shady in the Fairy Garden
But the sun is shining brightly
Outside the shade.
The sun is yellow sparklers.
The shade is a leaf-dark
Deep green sanctuary
Of unseen whispers
Wing-wise and waiting.
The scent shifts.
The wings waft.
It is best to sit down.
It is best to sit down
With your book
On the old stone bench
By the old brick wall.
Don't worry about the moss
And the lichens.
They have been sat on before
By bringers of books
On sunny afternoons
With the fairies close
But not quite touching.
People often fall asleep here.
When they do
The gate of the Fairy Garden
Closes quietly
And locks itself on the inside
So that you
And the fairies
Will not be disturbed.
There is a tinkle in the corner.
The old fountain works its water
In bubbles and plops
And plashes and splashes
Across moss-covered stones
And leafy liverworts
Glistening with spray
And dripping.
You need to be fast asleep
To feel the fountain.
Alcuin Bramerton (2015)
The Fairy Garden
If the old wooden gate is locked on the outside
You won't get into the Fairy Garden.
If you are inside the Fairy Garden already
And the the old wooden gate is locked on the inside
You are probably a fairy.
You can get out whenever you want.
If two human people approach
The gate of the Fairy Garden
From the outside
It will always be locked.
If one human person approaches
The gate of the Fairy Garden
Alone
It will sometimes be unlocked.
If that one human person is carrying a book
The door will not only be unlocked;
It will be open.
Books open doors.
It is quiet in the Fairy Garden
But quiet in a busy way.
You don't see the fairies at first;
You smell them
Or you hear them.
They smell of their friends:
They smell of honeysuckle;
Of lavender; of roses.
They sound like dragonfly wings
Slowed down slightly
To a hum flutter
Of soft petals
Surfing the air.
It is shady in the Fairy Garden
But the sun is shining brightly
Outside the shade.
The sun is yellow sparklers.
The shade is a leaf-dark
Deep green sanctuary
Of unseen whispers
Wing-wise and waiting.
The scent shifts.
The wings waft.
It is best to sit down.
It is best to sit down
With your book
On the old stone bench
By the old brick wall.
Don't worry about the moss
And the lichens.
They have been sat on before
By bringers of books
On sunny afternoons
With the fairies close
But not quite touching.
People often fall asleep here.
When they do
The gate of the Fairy Garden
Closes quietly
And locks itself on the inside
So that you
And the fairies
Will not be disturbed.
There is a tinkle in the corner.
The old fountain works its water
In bubbles and plops
And plashes and splashes
Across moss-covered stones
And leafy liverworts
Glistening with spray
And dripping.
You need to be fast asleep
To feel the fountain.
Alcuin Bramerton (2015)
This page is for grown-ups only
http://NameYourDesire.blogspot.com/2014/07/this-page-is-for-grown-ups-only.html
The Book of Intellections
The wisest man in the world
Lived at the top of the hill.
It was a woman.
It took him five hours to make the climb,
Carrying with him The Book of Intellections.
He handed the volume over.
"What is this great mountain of tosh, O Wise One?" he asked.
She read it.
"It is two things at once; yet neither. It is a story written for children pretending to be for grown-ups, and it is a story written for grown-ups pretending to be for children."
"How can that be?" he asked.
"It cannot," she answered.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Small visitors
At last
She has been left alone.
She walks slow
And free
And alert
Through the flowers.
There is a sleepy smell
Of butterflies
In the old garden,
And honey
And pollen
And the soft rustle
Of petals.
The girl,
Dressed in cornflower blue,
Sits down on the grass
Beside a tall,
Crumbling
Red-brick wall
And opens her book.
Around her feet
Freshly fallen fruit
Draws small visitors.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Novel in Burnley
A woman with tired eyes
Is reading a Jane Austen novel
In Burnley, Lancashire.
She orders a plate
Of mushy peas.
"We don't do food
At Lloyds Bank plc,"
Says the cashier.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Reasonable request
It is a rainy day.
A woman in a pleated skirt
Goes into the library
Approaches an earnest-looking young librarian
And says: "I need a book."
"What kind of book do you need?
Asks the librarian.
"I need a book with paper pages,
And neat printing
On two of the six sides of each page."
"That is a reasonable request
For two reasons,"
Says the librarian.
"First, this is a library,
And for the convenience
Of the general public
Books with paper pages
Are stored in libraries such as this."
"And, second, four of the six sides
Of a piece of paper
Are insufficiently large in surface area
To carry print of a size
Which can comfortably be read
By the human eye."
"Would you mind awfully
If I punch you on the nose?"
Says the woman in the pleated skirt.
"I find your attitude
Insufferably pedantic,
Even for a librarian."
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Living text entity
We have to allow
For the possibility that
A book is
A living text entity:
A text-being.
Go into an old library
At midnight
When the full moon
Is shining through the windows.
Be very still
And listen
With your skin.
You can hear
The books
Talking to each other.
But in which language
Do they speak?
And why do they
Go quiet
When you look at them?
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Syntactically flawless
The seasoned limewood logs
Flicker in the fireplace.
Doctor Piers Stockton
Lights his second-best pipe
And settles down to read
His star student's
Latest essay.
The writing is plainly
The work
Of a sick
And depraved mind.
The essay speaks
Of love
And honour
And duty
And self-sacrifice
And magnificent triumph
Against insuperable odds.
The essay
Connects at no point
With Western establishment values.
It contains no hint
Of cynicism,
Manipulation
Or deceit.
Indeed, it has nothing seminal
To say about democratic ideals,
Post-enlightenment intellection,
A free press
Or capitalist opportunism.
Syntactically flawless,
It is a profoundly depressing read.
Dr Stockton
Screws up the essay
And tosses it into the fire.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Step change
The Ancient of Days watches from the heights of the East
The Age of the Seventh Energy begins
An old star lights new waters
Melchizedek pipes in the rise of the dawn
There is laughter on the golden air
Alcuin Bramerton (2016)
The Book of Intellections
The wisest man in the world
Lived at the top of the hill.
It was a woman.
It took him five hours to make the climb,
Carrying with him The Book of Intellections.
He handed the volume over.
"What is this great mountain of tosh, O Wise One?" he asked.
She read it.
"It is two things at once; yet neither. It is a story written for children pretending to be for grown-ups, and it is a story written for grown-ups pretending to be for children."
"How can that be?" he asked.
"It cannot," she answered.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Small visitors
At last
She has been left alone.
She walks slow
And free
And alert
Through the flowers.
There is a sleepy smell
Of butterflies
In the old garden,
And honey
And pollen
And the soft rustle
Of petals.
The girl,
Dressed in cornflower blue,
Sits down on the grass
Beside a tall,
Crumbling
Red-brick wall
And opens her book.
Around her feet
Freshly fallen fruit
Draws small visitors.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Novel in Burnley
A woman with tired eyes
Is reading a Jane Austen novel
In Burnley, Lancashire.
She orders a plate
Of mushy peas.
"We don't do food
At Lloyds Bank plc,"
Says the cashier.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Reasonable request
It is a rainy day.
A woman in a pleated skirt
Goes into the library
Approaches an earnest-looking young librarian
And says: "I need a book."
"What kind of book do you need?
Asks the librarian.
"I need a book with paper pages,
And neat printing
On two of the six sides of each page."
"That is a reasonable request
For two reasons,"
Says the librarian.
"First, this is a library,
And for the convenience
Of the general public
Books with paper pages
Are stored in libraries such as this."
"And, second, four of the six sides
Of a piece of paper
Are insufficiently large in surface area
To carry print of a size
Which can comfortably be read
By the human eye."
"Would you mind awfully
If I punch you on the nose?"
Says the woman in the pleated skirt.
"I find your attitude
Insufferably pedantic,
Even for a librarian."
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Living text entity
We have to allow
For the possibility that
A book is
A living text entity:
A text-being.
Go into an old library
At midnight
When the full moon
Is shining through the windows.
Be very still
And listen
With your skin.
You can hear
The books
Talking to each other.
But in which language
Do they speak?
And why do they
Go quiet
When you look at them?
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Syntactically flawless
The seasoned limewood logs
Flicker in the fireplace.
Doctor Piers Stockton
Lights his second-best pipe
And settles down to read
His star student's
Latest essay.
The writing is plainly
The work
Of a sick
And depraved mind.
The essay speaks
Of love
And honour
And duty
And self-sacrifice
And magnificent triumph
Against insuperable odds.
The essay
Connects at no point
With Western establishment values.
It contains no hint
Of cynicism,
Manipulation
Or deceit.
Indeed, it has nothing seminal
To say about democratic ideals,
Post-enlightenment intellection,
A free press
Or capitalist opportunism.
Syntactically flawless,
It is a profoundly depressing read.
Dr Stockton
Screws up the essay
And tosses it into the fire.
Alcuin Bramerton (2014)
Step change
The Ancient of Days watches from the heights of the East
The Age of the Seventh Energy begins
An old star lights new waters
Melchizedek pipes in the rise of the dawn
There is laughter on the golden air
Alcuin Bramerton (2016)
Sunday 7 August 2016
And a pair of ears listened
A new book offers advice to its reader
..................................................................................................................
Picture: And a pair of ears listened.
..............................................................................................................................................
Slow down, young reader,
For you are still both young and old
in the ages of your reading.
Slow down at the beginning of a book;
Slow down and listen to the first page.
There is no rush.
Books don't rush; they wait.
Sometimes they wait for centuries,
Anticipating the arrival of the right reader.
So breathe slowly and deeply as you attend to the page;
Deep breathing helps deep listening;
Deep listening helps deep hearing.
Make friends with your book if you can.
Books like to be listened to with both eyes and ears.
But human ears work slower than human eyes;
And human ears need space to listen into.
Look at the page:
There are words and there is white space.
Your mind will add the pictures.
But look how much more white space there is than words.
Most of the page is space.
The space is there for long ears to listen into.
There's a lot of it.
The words are completely surrounded.
But it is not empty space.
The words vibrate quietly
And fill the space with unseen sound.
Ears must pay attention.
Close listening is needed.
What sounds are the words making today?
Listen to the space around them.
Is there a breeze?
Is there a breeze blowing gently
through the leafy woodlands
of words and whispers?
Is there bird song?
Is there a secret rustling in the undergrowth?
Sometimes there is.
And sometimes it can be heard.
How good is your earsight?
Do you know?
Quite a lot of the words on the page are invisible.
Often it is the invisible words which make the most noise.
Only ears can hear them;
Only ears which take the trouble to slow down and listen closely.
There is no rush.
Books don't rush; they wait.
..............................................................................................................................................
Picture: Young boy reading book.
Picture: Young girl and dog reading book.
..............................................................................................................................................
..............................................................................................................................................
Picture: And a pair of ears listened.
..............................................................................................................................................
Slow down, young reader,
For you are still both young and old
in the ages of your reading.
Slow down at the beginning of a book;
Slow down and listen to the first page.
There is no rush.
Books don't rush; they wait.
Sometimes they wait for centuries,
Anticipating the arrival of the right reader.
So breathe slowly and deeply as you attend to the page;
Deep breathing helps deep listening;
Deep listening helps deep hearing.
Make friends with your book if you can.
Books like to be listened to with both eyes and ears.
But human ears work slower than human eyes;
And human ears need space to listen into.
Look at the page:
There are words and there is white space.
Your mind will add the pictures.
But look how much more white space there is than words.
Most of the page is space.
The space is there for long ears to listen into.
There's a lot of it.
The words are completely surrounded.
But it is not empty space.
The words vibrate quietly
And fill the space with unseen sound.
Ears must pay attention.
Close listening is needed.
What sounds are the words making today?
Listen to the space around them.
Is there a breeze?
Is there a breeze blowing gently
through the leafy woodlands
of words and whispers?
Is there bird song?
Is there a secret rustling in the undergrowth?
Sometimes there is.
And sometimes it can be heard.
How good is your earsight?
Do you know?
Quite a lot of the words on the page are invisible.
Often it is the invisible words which make the most noise.
Only ears can hear them;
Only ears which take the trouble to slow down and listen closely.
There is no rush.
Books don't rush; they wait.
..............................................................................................................................................
Picture: Young boy reading book.
Picture: Young girl and dog reading book.
..............................................................................................................................................
..............................................................................................................................................
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)