nature poem

i reckon its time for the nature poem I threatened with you

earlier even though the monkey evolution piece was of course a nature poem

But I have to say I’ve always struggled with nature poems

And I reckon my progression, my evolution and my development

as a nature poet

stalled on lift off at the age of nine, when,

first poem I ever wrote,

we were told to write a poem for the harvest festival

And within thirty seconds I wrote

The golden glow of the harvest moon

The burning of the stubble…

Which is not bad

but the thing I failed to come up with a decent couplet for it

Something that rhymes with stubble

And thirty five years later I’m still trying to complete my sentence

and this has rather inhibited, debilitated and generally incapacitated

my progression evolution and development as a nature poet

so is this actually a nature poem?

well it has got some birds and some big beasties in it

...

So this is a poem

IN WHICH THE POET BOLDLY CLAIMS TO TRANSLATE BIRDSONG

...

this is called

I Know What The Birds Are Singing And I Understand That Look In Their Eye

...

I know

I’ve looked into their eyes

and I've watched how they move

they’re thinking,

we used to be dinosaurs

we used to be huge

unignorably vast

yet look at our small scrawny bodies

once we were ruled like kings and now,

worms and seed, worms and seed worms and seed,

for yes, I can see them in their million-year cringe,

they’re thinking

yes we can fly,

but then we were dinosaurs

and that,

was something else,

and now, what,

worms and seed, worms and seed

god it’s embarrassing

I’m depressed

my parents were depressed

my children will be depressed

that sparrow? depressed

that eagle? almightily depressed

that paradise bird in that photo?

inconsolable

Once, we roved like lions and now what?

worms and seed, seed and worms worms and seed, seed and worms …

but beware humans

be aware of our fate

now you rule like the lions once ruled

from Spain to China from England to Zululand

but be aware

your age will pass

one day you will be

some shrunken wizened species

one day you will have been

for millions of years

some vole or shrew

and have no future except as some

vole or shrew

so, humans,

you may laugh at us now

but cut down our trees

and poison our air

destroy our earth

as you're destroying it now

and its voles and shrews, voles and shrews

for you forever

for yes,

I can translate the birdsong

I know what the tits are twittering

The crows are cawing

The owls are hooting

The hawks are shrieking

They’re calling

Voles and shrews Voles and shrews Voles and shrews ...

and well,

After that

Do you think you want more evolution?

Which, ahem,

some people might take that as an insult

Go round saying “You want more evolution” in some places and they might just

take it personally

You think we haven’t evolved enough mister?

Whooah, ouch,

But, to be honest,

I’m saving that insult for Mississippi

and personally i could do with more

evolution I’d like an eye in the back of my head

and a brain I can switch off my six months at a time

An extra arm would be good

But where would you put it?

[mime arm from forehead from collar from crotch… with distasteful wiping of fingers]

But seeing I’ve done one poem on evolution

I suppose I might as well do another

I wrote this in a place called khajuraho in north central India

The temples there are very probably the world’s greatest erotic temple art

A thousand pornographic statues of a quality Michelangelo would have been pretty pleased with

But, being British, I didn’t write about that

I wrote about the goldfish in the hotel pool

So this is called

STARBUCKS ON THE MOON

in the hotel pond in khajuraho

the largest goldfish sucks at air at the pool's edge

and tries to lift itself with its fins

as if trying to climb out

as if trying to evolve

but if it succeeds i hope its not too disappointed

it might be like climbing Everest to discover there's a

McDonalds on top...