Jabberwocky, from through the looking glass read by

 Jabberwocky (Lewis Carroll)

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Alright - everything past this point refers to a version that has been removed - the current one is apparently read by Benedict Cumberbatch - it's nice and smooth unlike some versions which seem overly gutteral to me.


What can I say?  This is a beloved poem, and I've been biding my time for a whole year because last year somebody else pipped me to the post - but not with the dulcet tones of (someone imitating) Charles himself reading the poem (wrong - part of me is pleased because a couple of words I'd have pronounced differently - but part is annoyed - and embarrassed - but then it's a good lesson to remember that even when it doesn't really seem to matter - and there are no commercial interests involved - you should always check your facts on the internet) .  Anyway -Now there can be plenty of arguments about pronunciation!

Not sure what makes this poem so beloved, but  was so absolutely besotted had to take said poem and turn it on its head. Elegy for Jabber.

A..J. Ponder 
.

Truths and Fairy Tales

Say all is right with the world:

It's such a beautiful lie,

Why should it not

Arrive

With pearly wings

And trumpets

From a blue, blue sky?

Say you know the truth:

It's such a fabulous lie,

Why should it not

Announce itself

With a sequined dress,

A coach,

And four footmen?

Say you didn't mean to:

Now that's just squalid,

Divine intervention and

Fairy tale splendour

Will not mask

The ugliness

Of that lizard

A..J. Ponder 

For more fairytale poetry click here to my Fairytale Poetry Hub

 

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And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

New Year's Day 2

Where should all the days go

If they slip by

as fast as this one?

The sun never shone so lazily

in its bed of blue

watching over

Dunes and sand --

the sun-bleached bones of mountains

accumulated in the hectic tide 

And should all my days

end in a tidal surge

on the briny surf

With seaweed at the ankles

and castles on the beach -

Let those castles be built high

Let them stand before

the endless tide

under the patient sun

Let there be

fantastical turrets

before all is washed away...

And the sun rushes off

to its liaison 

with the other side of the world.

A..J. Ponder 

Tuesday Poem. Can't see it

When the world is black

and the colours you can see

are behind your eyelids

Bright as

Neurons

Flashing in the night -

signalling

a Bright and

dark beginning.

Reach out your arms

and feel the solid world

beneath your fingertips -

Rough and

real 

Harsh in the soft

darkness -

Warm in the cold

night. 

A..J. Ponder 

I keep on promising that I'll have cheerful poems.  And maybe one day I will :)  Like last week's "to the sea" I'm missing one of the poets that stood out at the Tuesday hub, Harvey McQueen .  Anyway the Tuesday Poem hub is dedicated to him this week.  "Reading Janet Frame" at the Tuesday Poem hub.  And his blog  stoatspring, is well worth reading as a "live memoir" of his poetry and his struggle with illness.

To the Sea

 

To the Sea

Green Tears fall beneath the willow tree,

I lie beyond that veil of tears,

If you should look for me

The softest rain falls from above,

The river runs below,

Wherever it is running I will surely go

So look not to the cold hard earth,

The oceans they will hide me,

I will hold my true love's hand and she will walk beside me.

A..J. Ponder
With the death over the Christmas break of noteable Tuesday poet Harvey McQueen,  whose anthology "These I Have Loved," only came out this year.  I felt there needed to be something appropriate so I have posted the poem I wrote at the funeral of my Grandfather.  It seemed apposite.  Harvey's bravery in the face of serious illness, and ability to work through reminded me rather of my grandfather, and the watery theme also seemed appropriate.  


Best wishes for the new year everyone, and especially for all those who have lost loved ones over Christmas. 

A..J. Ponder - author page

The Twelve Days of Christmas - revisited

Sick of Christmas Cheer?
Stuck interminably in all twelve of the days of Christmas?
Maybe it's time for something new?

On the first day of Christmas an ET gave to me

A Suitcase from a pear tree

On the second day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the third day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Three Fallen  Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the fourth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen  Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the fifth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen  Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the sixth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the seventh day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Seven Planets spinning

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the eighth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Eight Robot Slaves

Seven Planets spinning

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the ninth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Nine golden rings

Eight Robot Slaves

Seven Planets spinning

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the tenth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Ten Laser Guns

Nine golden rings

Eight Robot Slaves

Seven Planets spinning

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Eleven nuclear explosions

Ten Laser Guns

Nine golden rings

Eight Robot Slaves

Seven Planets spinning

Six Sparkling vampires

Five wooden stakes

Four eye-phones calling

Three Fallen Angels

Two Mutant Doves

and a

Suitcase from a pear tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas an ET gave to me

Twelve Spaceships Landing

On a world that's completely human free

The End

(Well, of course it is.)

A..J. Ponder - Amazon author page



Maybe one day I'll do a somewhat tidier version of this. But it more was more a bit of nonsensical fun than anything else.  Hope everyone is enjoying the festive season and having a bit of a break from work.  


Cheers.

Tuesday Poem: Secret Santa: Christmas, Downtown Melbourne by Pamela Morrison

Christmas, Downtown Melbourne

Ding dong

Ding

Dong

A man enters the post office

Ding dong

His knuckles are grey

Ding dong ding

He walks past the card stand

Dong ding

His feet are bare

Dong dong

He stops and bends down

Ding dong ding

His paper bag is ripped

Dong

He looks up at the roof

Ding dong

One eye is open, the other is half shut

Ding ding

He draws a deep breath

Ding

No-one sees him, no-one is looking

Dong

Now the man is starting to sing

The notes of Jerusalem

Are bold as a bell

They rise to the vault of the ceiling

Then descend

Every space is filled

Every person is still

The last note has landed

Shoppers and postal workers stomp and clap

Ding dong dong ding dong dong ding ding dong

Ding dong dong ding dong ding dong dong dong ding

A person in uniform walks to the man

Turns him, takes him away.

Pamela Morrison

Pam wrote this poem about a pre-Christmas experience she had several years ago. It seems rather sad that it ends the way it does - as she captures the magic and finally the pathos of the incident.

A Dunedin based poet, Pam is an ex-journalist who has had "the odd poem published."   Now in a completely different line of work, she's enjoying having no deadlines, and not having to write other people’s stories.  She loves sharing her work with others, and she is a fantastic part of the Tuesday Poetry blog group and an avid blogger -  more of her poems can be found here at her blog site where she continues to explore the world with words.

 So cheers Pam and all the other poets on the Tuesday Poem site for making this a memorable year in poetry.

A..J. Ponder - Amazon author page