The Joy of Books (Part Three)

The look of books

Aesthetics

Cover, size, look of print,size of print, font type

Light, medium or dark print

Colour and page environment

White page, off white, slightly yellowed, very yellowed

Dirty, mouldy, unidentified stains

Food, liquid, grease, sweat, other.

The cover of books?

I’ll let someone else cover the cover.

Books are meant to be shared

An old, well used paperback or hardback

is good as long as it’s clean

The odd elusive grease stain is acceptable

Can be ignored easily

But then, when we get into food stains

of the third kind

of the oily, damp, highly coloured

sticky kind

the ones that graduate to 3D status

by that, I mean actual food stuffs

Then, my will to ignore

becomes weak.

When I was growing up

the Childrens Library was the absolute worst

for undesirable and unidentifable stains in books.

The stains were mostly food and liquids

the ones I couldn’t stomach

were the green ones

They seemed to appear regularly on the pages

Maybe it was just once

and it traumatized me enough to think

it was just snot all the way

a terrible distraction from whatever I was reading

I had a slight germ phobia

so the children’s book, story and author

had less of an impact than those

slightly alien 3D luminous green things.

The bottom line is, I thought things would get better when I graduated to The Adult Library.

Then I discovered that books for adults were a whole other ball game. Quite literally.

The Joy of Books (Part Two)

The feel of books

Hard back or soft back?

Both please, depending on mood and accessibility.

The hardback is in it for the long haul

Something to hold onto

When all the world is falling apart

When we are falling apart

The hardback can be gripped more fiercely

than any paperback

Without it withering or bending

under the stress of our fingers

to give us the sense that

the world

or ourselves

are not spinning wildly

out

of

control

Hold onto that hardback

For as its name suggests

It is hard

It is a back

And when someone says

they have got your back

It’s good.

Ever read a book with a traumatised spine?

Once a spine goes in a book

it really doesn’t take too long for it to fall apart

a bit like people

Paperbacks bend well

Sometimes circling in on themselves

like a willow in the wind

I love a good bendy paperback

a contortionist of a paperback

Unyeilding paperbacks have their place

but give me a double jointed paperback any day.

Well used paperbacks that have been through the mill

worn and tired and weary

still have the same amount of reading in them

perhaps more so

because of what they’ve been through

You can feel their years on the earth

the emotions that have passed through them

from all those hungry eyes and minds and hearts

fingers clutching or gripping the cover

or gently holding or caressing

Books are inanimate objects

But they were my friends growing up

still are

Like pets, they give unconditional love

they do not judge

and they impart wisdom.

The Joy of Books (Part One)

The smell of books

The scent of print and paper

Some of them like the best cologne in the world

Some spanking new and clinical

Some sharp and gluey

Some sweet and elusive

Some deeply inky

Some second hand,

old, papery, leathery, musty,

earthy, damp, sour

Some impregnated with cigarette smoke

Some experienced worldy books

The ones they call dog eared, well thumbed

The ones that have lived a full, rich life

The wise old ones

that have the stains

the yellowed pages

And the strange odours to prove it

All the hands that have held them

Turned their pages

In daylight, or lamplight, or candle

All the eyes that have gazed upon their pages

Riveted, bored, entertained, comforted

All the rooms they have lived in

All the bookshelves they have marinated in

All the drawers they have got bored in

All the charity shops they have ended up in.

The Joy of Archimedes

(Illustration by Steve Young)

The joy of Archimedes was cut short
When he was summoned by Marcellus himself
A soldier was to take him to the general
The general was very taken with him
But Archimedes was deep in study
Writing on the tiles
His head buried in a project
He could not tear himself away
The joy of Archimedes was
solutions to his vexations
He was only happy when answers came
to all the puzzles of physics that plagued him
When he found answers, he was ecstatic
But this time, obsessiveness did not serve him well
When he refused to go
The soldier ran him through.

The Joy of Norman Battle Tactics

Norman battle tactics

Weren’t particularly kind

And weren’t very healthy

For body, soul and mind

While the archers could do range

The calvary got about

So the lance hit the spot

And the arrow took you out

To exhaust horses

English climb a hill

Weak trajectory of arrow

Might help them get a kill

Normans pretend to flee

English chase fast

But back on even land

And now armed, with just an axe…

…the injured go down

Destiny is soon found

As a hundred soldier hooves

Trample English to the ground

Harold and Co. ill prepared

So the Battle of Hastings goes

If only they had the longbow

To help ease all their woes

Viking settlers

And Franks agree

Winning battles

Is easy

Anglo-Saxon pain

And suffering for their boys

Could not take away

Norman Battle Tactic Joys

There Must Be A Way

Crack in the pavement

Pothole in the path

Snag in the scheme

Rejection on the road

Obstruction on the line

Blockage on the bearing

Travail on the trail

Occlusion in the tube

There must be a way of moving on

Hold up on the motorway

Prevention of the plan

Hurdle at the course

Exclusion on the highway

Barricade on the street

Hinderance on the route

Blockage on the beat

Hazard in the formula

There must be a way of moving on

Jam at the junction

Crisis in the crossing

Interference at the intersection

Clot in the system

Tear in the tactic

A Shut Out in approach

Concealment on the course

A Joke at the joining

There must be a way of moving on.

Selfless

There was a time

When photos

Didn’t trigger

Or determine

A flash fire emotion

Or a lazy sensory response

Requiring no effort.

There was a time

When the written word

Or a poignant meaningful photo

Painting a thousand words

Wasn’t replaced by a selfie

Railroading us down a pathway

Where no thought is necessary

And no imagination is required.

There was a time

When the written word could stand alone

Hold its own and speak for itself

Without that illustrated companion.

There was a time

Imagination was key

You heard that song

You had your own personal story in mind

And then you saw the video

And it was all gone, spoilt, in an instant.

Now is the time

Image is key

And photos of a certain type speak

Without need for any words at all

Would such a photo have as much to say

As a book read before bedtime

Would it keep us as warm at night?

Famous For 15 Days – The Life Of A Crane fly

You left the window open

So I came in

You had a light on

And it was warm.

You seem afraid

When I flutter

I do not mean

To frighten you.

I seem chaotic

Haphazard

Bouncing around

Just trying to find

Somewhere to land.

I hope we can

Co-exist peacefully.

Now, just a bit of back story

To make you less afraid.

Our larvae spend

Most of the year

In moist soil

We are food

For many animals.

We do not bite or sting

Or spread diseases.

When we do emerge

We don’t even have

Much time to eat.

We have between 10 and 15 days

To propagate the species

To love, to live

That time is precious

It’s like the lifetime

That you have.

In school playgrounds

Boys pulled off our legs

Our legs are decidious

Easily coming away

But even decidious legs

Shouldn’t be pulled away

I know that used to upset you.

We are born to fly

In open skies

I was out the other day

A cloudy, windy

September Day

When the author

Saw me in flight.

They exclaimed

It was so nice

To get a glimpse of us

Outside the confines

Of a building.

Hadn’t seen

A more graceful flyer.

It’s like we’re in slow motion

With an invisible parachute.

The author finally realised

How gentle we were

I’m glad.

Also, we don’t need to be famous.

See you next year.

Can We Go Now?

I’ve been here before in this space

Between a rock and a very hard place

I don’t want to stay

Like a rat in a corner

Trapped and alone

When there’s no way out

Can we go now?

That’s two hours I’ll never get back

And I think we should scarper

Can we go now?

I’m starting to feel out of whack

This thing’s run it’s course

Can we go now?

It all seemed like the perfect dream

Turned into a nightmare scene

Looking at that clock

I swear the hands never moved

Frozen in time

It’s like watching paint dry

Can we go now?

This isn’t fun, nor is quirky

A watched pot won’t boil

Can we go now?

You said we could leave by two thirty

Let us head for the hills

Can we go now?