I am writing an average of three poems a week some short and around one image others the longer story poems
such as the tale of the early era Christian bishop pining for his pre conversion ecstatic pagan youth , Robin hood appearing as a violent and brutal robber but romancing about the medieval world
my longest to date at 108 lines is a poem about automatons and court toys Eighteenth century faux
It is really two horror stories
Little Shakespeare
A grim 18th century tale about a scientist who creates an automaton based on his dead child then uses the automaton to commit suicide with
Exhibited to" my fat Duchess" little Shakespeare writes out ironic anthems to monarchy which none of the Ancien Regime dignitaries recognise as such -
"we are charmed
hymn to the widowhood of our first king George
ode to the birth of true destined Archduchess Maria Antonia"
George I kept his adulterous wife imprisoned for over 40 years and the true destiny of Marie -Antoinette is well known
thought of "Tsar Ivan released all prisoners" but the hint to irony in the story of young Ivan VI of Russia killed by his gaolers after a lifetime of imprisonment less effective and would detract from the little Shakespeare
before ending
"Adam returned from dead
Father asks "what does a child write from the grave?"
this machine with purpose for this natural philosopher alone
pen is motion is replaced by slotted knife , straight forward razor
one page was drawn
things lost in the fire"
The sad story of Koppucine
The most glamourous and beautiful exotic erotic silver painted nude automaton dancer doll who drops dead during a fan dance and is revealed to be a woman hired to liven up the dull exhibition of automata killed by the poison paint of her machine dancer act being cheaper phosphor lead
Unclaimed the dead dancer is given to the anatomists and her skin is eventually turned into a revolutionary drum
I always liked automatons and the 18th century was their first machine age yet they have always been part of society Hero's steam engine and temple doors opening by themselves to medieval Androids and Golems
by the eighteenth century the automata had mellowed to the level of
eating and excreting Ducks , human operated Chess playing Turks , little writers who cog up and down and musicians all of mechanisms.
Although I admit the only automatons I could find in my childhood were old Victorian to 1920s automata of small figure tableaux penny operated gallows execution, clockwork dungeon racks and the thrill of closing and opening iron maidens mummy curse tombs, cycles of hell with the kruger and kaiser figure repainted as fuhrer that played for a £ s d penny in one North Wales arcade
These however were superseded by seaside arcade space shot electrics and helicopter candy pickers in 1971 when decimalisation arrived in the UK
some work in progress has I have little else to do at least four job applications and one job interview.
one incomplete poem about musing in an old style antiquarian book shop over bible buddha and Orrey that has" lost its Coperny sun"
three lines that came all at once of the long thought of but never actually written out poem "Elen of the Hosts " based on the Welsh legend of te dream of Maxen Wledig that may stick at those three lines
never did get around to building the Hawaiian compass despite free time
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