PDA

View Full Version : Badgerwatch



hillwalker
07-26-2010, 06:05 PM
BADGERWATCH
Flitting from the loose-box
pirouetting pipistrelles
darting in and out the hay loft;
such a sultry, humming heat
with dusk an hour away.

Cross the yard
to drag that rusted five-bar gate
that skims its wiper-blade of rotten rail
across the sludge,
leaving a clue that something passed along the midden’s edge.

The fields look wary in this light;
Ten Acre wheat,
Big Bradley almost ready to be grazed again,
the Croft still wet but lush enough to silage,
and the Black Pit left to dock and thistle,
creeping down in silence to the ‘Quay.

Merseyside a ribbon wrought in sodium and sulphur
stretched across the dark horizon;
a touch of Dante where the smoking pits of Stanlow
fill the August night with steam and smoke,
an orange flicker where a belly-dance of gas flame
never dies.

The tilted moon sits moored above the steelworks,
low enough to scrape its keel
against their towering chimneys,
clank its anchor chains
along the submerged pipes.

Sometimes at night I’d lie awake
and hear the sudden whump of heat, too distant to be felt,
the blast of hot air from the furnaces
a thrombent glow as skyline blushed as loud as any lover’s cry,
the gasp of ecstasy across the Dee.

The woods lie in this hollow on our left
beyond that fallen stump,
that gash of silver in the velvet;
this is where we found the fox lynched in the branches,
carcass smiling still beneath the rot,
the hurled out scrape of sand and roots and claw prints
marking out the sett.

My tree is already picked out,
my baler twine and roll of sacking.
A pair of sticks, not green and supple but brittle dry,
one up each trouser leg.
“’E grabs you, ‘e won’t let yer go until ‘e ‘ears yer leg bone snap.”

Two hours of fidgeting
and then the sound before the shadow.
A cautious snuffle
as it scoffs the cubes of ‘Dairylea’,
my bait.
A snort of relish, almost a guffaw,
and then it scuffles through the undergrowth;
a moment’s glimpse but worth the wait.

- - - - -

Now forty years too late
the fields are long forgotten;
a swamp of cul-de-sacs and building-sites and precincts,
given names that have no weight of age,
an ‘Acorn Drive’ where sycamores once swayed
and jettisoned their seed,
‘The Orchards’ where we last grew kale and turnip.

And from the back of ‘Wirral View’
the wilderness of reclaimed land,
the steelworks now emasculated at the water’s edge;
the pickling line, the smelting pits,
the Marsh Mills and the cooling towers,
the Z-Galv,
all demolished;
not a hint of all the toil,
the bruising dust and grime
that burnished everything with glitter.

But in the woods
somewhere at night the badgers still come out
to twitch and scrawp between the brambles…..

H

tailor STATELY
07-26-2010, 06:42 PM
Delightful ! Bravo ! An excellent read.

Hawkman
07-26-2010, 06:49 PM
God, hill this is good. beautifully drawn picture of a changing landscape remembered as it was and the childish joys of the countryside.

By the way, I particularly liked "Thrombent" Not in my dictionary but so expressive and tinted with layers of meaning, throbbing, heartbeat, bloody, all evoking the scene described. Thanks for sharing this one.

I'll have to write a real poem now or I'll feel a fraud :D

Best, H

PrinceMyshkin
07-26-2010, 08:58 PM
Hard to say which is more vivid, the scene or the language you employ to portray (and celebrate?) it.

A flipping masterpiece, Hill!!! :party:

Bar22do
07-27-2010, 02:38 AM
The scene here is one of breathtaking beauty, Hill. And yes, transformation is not always (hmm... almost never, these days) progressive, industry's footprints scoffing at the tradition/nature... But in hiding, reduced, the last still survives, perhaps strong as Lfe is strong (awaiting its hours...)

"an orange flicker where a belly-dance of gas flame
never dies."

is powerful (though certainly one of the many powerful moments here)

Incredible poem, rich in sensous visions, sounds, contrasts... and - what a mastery in language! Thanks a lot, Hill.

Best regards, Bar

hillwalker
07-27-2010, 06:39 AM
Thank you all for reading and responding -

@tailor - I'm pleased you enjoyed this

@prince - indeed a celebration is what was intended - so thank you for bringing the balloons

@bar - you picked out the one line I particularly liked -
and it was an eulogy as much to the loss of the area's proud industrial past as to the transformation of the natural landscape

@hawk - I guessed this would be 'right up your street' - the loss of a landscape's 'identity' as much as anything (and yes, all written from personal experience this particular one)

Thanks again, H

hack
07-27-2010, 11:37 AM
Hill,
This is so beautiful.
I remember, as a young man,
running a badger to ground,
for sport, and killing it wantonly.
It is one of the great regrets of my life.
The house I live in is built over desert
where I hunted rabbits, dove and quail
more than 40 years ago. It was a wild
place, now a quiet neighborhood.
Your descriptive talents are really quite
amazing. Thanks for the post...peace...

hillwalker
07-27-2010, 12:33 PM
Thank you, hack. Pleased it stirred up some memories, and I can appreciate the poignancy of your confession regarding a 'misspent youth'.

During my teenage years I regularly wandered the nearby fields with a rifle for company (mostly targetting wood pigeons and rats - not badgers, but once you start it's sometimes hard to know where to draw the line).

In a way I think we probably appreciate wildlife more now than 'those innocent souls with no blood on their hands' who view every animal as a soft and cuddly Disney creation.

qimissung
07-27-2010, 08:36 PM
Wow! Just wow, Hillwalker. This sure makes me think of my own childhood when I was more in touch with nature than I am now. And watching landscapes change, and missing what was.

Thank you.

hillwalker
07-28-2010, 07:56 AM
thanks qim - yes it's so sad that once a landscape is changed fom what it originally was you can't turn back the clock just by trying to cosmeticise it.

blank|verse
07-29-2010, 04:36 PM
Have you read Badger (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/badger/) by John Clare?

I can't read this without thinking of Clare's more dramatic poem; and as much as I enjoyed this, felt you fell into your old trap of being a bit indulgent. I was reading stanza after stanza thinking: 'Where's the badger?!' as the poem becomes less about the crepuscular creature and more about urban sprawl.

There are some nice moments in this though, such as the 'belly dancing' gas flame, so I think on balance you get away with it!

hillwalker
07-29-2010, 05:50 PM
Thanks b|v - I had not read this particular poem until you pointed it out to me. A very powerful piece about badger-bating, which I feared readers might infer this was also about.

I admit the badger took its time putting in an appearance (as they do) but I'm happy you are prepared to indulge my indulgence this once.

H

Jerrybaldy
07-30-2010, 09:00 AM
Brilliant, Hill.
I wonder if in some distant future a lament to the loss of 'Acorn Drive' and ' The Orchards' might appear. I'm thinking probably not.
BW
JB

hillwalker
07-30-2010, 09:35 AM
Thanks Jerry, well no, probably not..... until the day Nature reclaims the lot (but there may well be no one left to record the event for posterity by then)

Hawkman
07-30-2010, 10:27 AM
Leave it long enough and the badgers will evolve to write their own poetry, if they don't all die of TB first :D

AuntShecky
07-31-2010, 03:00 PM
This one is packed with local color expressed in a regional dialect, neither of which yours fooly is familiar. Yet if one doesn't learn something new or directed to see old sites with new eyes, what is the of point of Literature? ( Yes this piece is definitely in contention as qualifying for the "L" word.)

The last section in which the title creatures are more or less given the last word ends the piece brilliantly.

Well done--and yours truly is extremely envious!

hillwalker
08-01-2010, 06:21 AM
@Aunty - many thanks for your complementary response.
I am flattered that something so rooted in a tiny corner of North East Wales could be appreciated as far away as Upstate New York.

@Hawk - Brock Rules OK.

Yes - you and Aunty both managed to work out that it might be Nature watching us here rather than the other way around.

H