Monday, August 7, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:8/7/17

Open To Interpretation
Sometimes I have this migratory thing:
From overhead the Geese's procession,
Honking as the silent sun is setting,
Their ritual bids; now out of fashion.

What I would learn on their long slow winged flight,
To leave the ordered earth towns far below,
Pilgrimage to beyond horizons' sight;
Just pick up and leave off the whole damn show.

Oh, Dolphins could be our destination,
To nest by the seashore and watch their leaps
Beneath the sun that's forsworn Night's mission,
And learn something of Dolphins' ocean deeps.

When they have taught the Dolphins our lingo,
Will that be our staid rituals' bingo?

Notes:  so, so, I'm try to make that sonnet fit some new study...and having got that far with it, rolled over to have spaghetti and salad and soda...on the way, the sports talk show hosts are going on about a little league, girls!, team, that took a team selfie after a victory, challenging the next team with one finger raised...problem is it was the middle fingers, so, so, administration removed them from the world series tournament...and the talks show hosts go on and on, determining this a lesson Social Media Generation 2.0 needs to learn...they are the second generation to grow up with the  new thing, the first can be forgiven such indiscretions...well, well, I thought, and found a table in the back at the pizza front were three elderly ladies and an older gentleman...and I have big ears...eaves dropping in restaurants, on public transportation, here!, kind of a hobby!...and their talk, their patter, reminded me of something...and I realized, oh crap, they're all college professors/administrators...I have been away from that for a long time!...and they were going on about lessons for kids transiting from high school to college...Europe's options, our options....the evenness of their perfectly grammatically sentences, and calm quiet voices intoning patronizing counsels...well, the sports talk hosts were at least funny...but it's the same...the same everywhere...and I thought, 'bingo', 'Ritual' is spot on...leave it be...and there's in study was some of Spenser's sonnets, he did like eighty of them in a series...there addressed to his girl, and while most sonnet sequences...(they're all addressed to someone someone is in love with!)...end in failure, misery, and such, Spenser's ends with a successful courtship and marriage...go figure!...and while smiling at this, I took note at wiki's take, that Spenser's sonnets are linked to The Book Of Common Prayer...I had never heard of such, though, without knowing, sitting in church I experienced it...the book gives counsel on how to go about each day, providing for each day a lesson, a parable, a psalm, something...and Spenser stemmed off from each day in the Book by writing a sonnet about each day, themed to the Book's lesson each day...a fine conceit, I thought...and I took note of the Book, as Spenser lived in the period of the reign of Queen Elizabeth that I have been watching in Midnight Movies...movieseriesQueenElizabethI and movieQueenElizabeth...after Queen Mary dies, she was catholic, Queen Elizabeth, her sister, protestant, takes the throne, and re instates the Book Of Common Prayer as the new 'clip art book' of the new Church Of England...for this the Pope seeks to assassinate Elizabeth, and the King of Spain mounts the Spanish important are the differences between the ritual of the Catholics and upstart Protestants...all the religions have 'Books of Common Prayer''s where all the rituals come from, for birth, marriage, death, and all...what to say, what to wear, how to behave...they're the 'clip art books' I've been going on about...the Book of Common Prayer is in wide use, hardly changed, to this day...a curio is that Shakespeare borrowed from it...what didn't he!?...and back then it was the 'elephant in the room'...its every detail was fought over, to the death if need be...I left the pizza place thinking 'at least I'm not bound up with those college rituals anymore'...I wasn't very good at them...but I must pause and consider, that hereabout in the blog I am about just such...the sonnet form is highly ritualistic, and lent itself to the ritualistic thinking...obsessions!...of the nobility in the renaissance...rituals are still ever present...sports, politics, school!...most are so ingrained we hardly notice them...handshakes, standing for the national anthem...slight one and you'll get noticed...ask Trump, ask Pasternack!...watched Game of Thrones last night, and read a Washington Post review this went through the show like my old literature professors...pointing out themes and character developments...there's a scene where the fire breathing dragon is laying waste to a supply train of wagons, horses, soldiers, and the dragon is just beyond everyone's scope...only in legends had such been dreamed of...but there it was making useless swords and spears, armor and arrows...and a comment to the review author points out that warfare in the tale, like in our history, had been fought on its own terms for thousands of years, and was ritualistic...brb...


This is an episode about recognizing that someone or something is far more lethal than you think, and trying to adjust your worldview accordingly.

... ... ...

from comments:

The show is based primarily on medieval tactics, and it could be that fighting in the manner you described would not be the most "honorable" or "glorious" way to win a battle, and that was a thing back then. They had different standards when it came to battle, and the whole idea of two sides lining up and facing off head-to-head only recently came to an end in the 20th century. For ten thousand years, that's how battles were fought. It seems foolish now, but back then, valor, glory and honor were important to the warrior class, though many certainly lacked those qualities in other areas of their lives.  

--Shane D. Pringle


They used to sing back and forth at one another...anyway, I'm seeing a ritual now in every bush...the Book of Common Prayer at wiki's take is referred to as a 'script'...don't know but Hollywood's scriptwriters, and wannabes, are about the self same thing Elizabeth's were, making yet another Book...


As novelist P. D. James observed, "We can recognize the Prayer Book’s cadences in the works of Isaac Walton and John Bunyan, in the majestic phrases of John Milton, Sir Thomas Browne and Edward Gibbon. We can see its echo in the works of such very different writers as Daniel Defoe, Thackeray, the Brontës, Coleridge, T. S. Eliot and even Dorothy L. Sayers." (James 2011, p. 48) James herself used phrases from the Book of Common Prayer and made them into bestselling titles – Devices and Desires and The Children of Men – while Alfonso Cuarón's 2006 film Children of Men placed the phrase onto cinema marquees worldwide.


According to Cuarón, the title of P. D. James' book (The Children of Men) is a Catholic allegory derived from a passage of scripture in the Bible.[28] (Psalm 90 (89):3 of the KJV: "Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of men.")



Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote her Name
By Edmund Spenser 
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
"Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay,
A mortal thing so to immortalize;
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise."
"Not so," (quod I) "let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your vertues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name:
Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew."

and Shakespeare's cover...


Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
By William Shakespeare 
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
   So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.




No comments: