Saturday 29 October 2011

LETTUCE IN WINTER

Friday 21 October 2011

LAPWINGS



A Shetland pony stoops                                                                                                  
at the brackish end of Strand Loch,
her tresses tossing gnats away.
She sniffs sorrow in the wind,
her world is changing.
She lifts her eyes to the stone sky
as a fluttering
of black and white waders
wave by.
She stares solemnly into the shallows,
catching a glimpse of plumage popping.
She counts crests bobbing in damp grass.
‘Not so many this year,’ she neighs,
dipping her head back to the water’s edge
as a bleak mist rolls in.

Janet Daniel







LAST ONE TO LEAVE THE ROOM


LAST ONE TO LEAVE THE ROOM

Gaze into this bowl of light.
See wasp spiders crawl over purple whales
sheep eyes, sleep eyes
swallow, suck
wallow round
deep down, until
like a python
night fingers my throat
squeezing my breath
crushing the light out of me, until
I squeak.

Light becomes night;
night without reason
treacherous night
unforgiving night
don’t go gently night
ferocious night
starry infinite night

In my last nanosecond 
I awake
vaporizing night, until
a glow worm appears
re-igniting light;
light pulsating
throbbing light
light of reason
loyal light
forgiving light
child whispering light
laughing light
starburst  light
light flooding into consciousness
light giving light to life again.


Janet Daniel

BEELINE


BEELINE



No bees?
No grapes
No sun
No wine.
No wine?
No way!
One way
Save lives
Build hives
More bees
More grapes
More wine
Sunshine!


                                                                                 Janet Daniel

NEW YEAR'S EVE 2009


NEW YEAR’S EVE 2009


You rise
sparkling like glow worms massing,
chandelier
peeping through Leylandia.
You move slowly until break out
into rainbow-scaley sky.

You rise
bouncing ball of icy blue
hang solemnly
ready to drop
onto an unsuspecting world.

You rise
hide behind cross-hatched pear,
play peak and seek
where in autumn
hardened fruit failed their perry promise.

You rise high
to top of leaded apple light
where earlier today
Jays picked budding berries.

You rise higher
pure demure
reminding us of friends
and places faraway.

You rise
above sheep mountain
silhouette
and below
spin fish, turn tides,
moods ebb and flow,
wolf women whistle and wail.

You rise ever higher
and retreat.                                              Janet Daniel                                                                                                           

DANCERS' HAIKU


DANCERS’ HAIKU


Roots wrap round lichen
Dancing to sacred rhythm
Freeing green spirit





                                                                                                   Janet Daniel

SORRY I DON'T EAT FISH-THE POEM

SORRY, I DON'T EAT FISH

Sorry, I don't eat fish
I wish I could say
when asked
to a dinner party a few days away.
My conscience tells me I should be good
and eat only plants ,
but I can't.

It's the fish that are nearly extinct
that I particularly like
although feel terrible shame
when eating cod, haddock or hake
or any white fish that tastes really divine
when deep-fried with chips and a glass of white wine.

Then there are the oily fish
mackerel, salmon and herring
that once filled the oceans near to our shores
but not anymore,
because people with taste buds like me
just couldn't believe
we are over-fishing our seas.

I am told there are fish to be eaten
without beating you up
you don't have to deny a fine source of grub.
People talk of a sustainable way
but is it at a price I'm willing to pay?
If I don't
it will soon be the end of my favourites
all fished away.

So perhaps I should look
for snapper, crimson and red,
trout, brown, sea and rainbow
organically bred
black and sea bream from the North Wales quarter
cook flounder and more from Cornwall's water.

I do have a choice
I can choose to say
Yes, I eat fish the sustainable way.

                                                                                                                   Janet Daniel

'SORRY I DON'T EAT FISH'

Whether you believe it's man-made, God's will or just natural forces, climate change is happening and we will all have to adapt to survive.
Rhys and I have a joint exhibition, his art work and my poetry, which is our creative response to climate change and a celebration of the natural world, and takes place at the Norwegian Church Art Gallery from October 24 -30 2011. There's a preview this Sunday, 2-4pm.

Proceeds from sales will be divided between two environmental charities; Awel Aman Tawe and Taffs Well Community Garden.

Please come along and invite your friends!

Rhys' art work can be found on http://ieuanrhysdaniel.tumblr.com
A few of my poems in the exhibition will follow this blog

Friday 7 October 2011

DON GIOVANNI-A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

Rhys had never been to an opera. I'd been to a couple years ago. I saw Aida in Milan, performed in the open air. The production included live animals, including a camel. A man walked behind it, brushing up his business as singers performed their arias. Most distracting. I saw another at the iconic Sydney Opera House. It was more for the experience of the building than the opera-Bernice and something-see it was that memorable I can't remember the full title.
    All these years of living in Wales, with the internationally renowned Welsh National Opera(WNO), based in Cardiff and two musicians from the Company living next door, we'd always thought opera was boring. All those fat men and plump women singing for hours in a foreign language-it wasn't for us.  We had thought of opera as musical theatre primarily for toffs, although we knew some ex-miners with a penchant for Puccini.
     In an attempt to try out new things this year, I booked for us to see the WNO production of Don Giovanni at the Wales Millenium Centre; the story of Don Juan, the rapacious womaniser and lovable rogue, with music by Mozart and libretto by Da Ponte. The Company have been trying to widen access to opera for years, and offered a pre-show talk by the Artistic Director. This was a great help as we learnt about the history, the context, the plot, the music, that Rodin's sculptures had inspired the set and the use of McGubbins-a devise to extend the story line with sub plot. We were promised a thrilling evening.
    The story is set in Spain, sung in Italian and to Rhys's delight there were sur titles in Welsh as well as English. We could follow what was going on and enjoy the sumptuous production values, the fantastic singing and a wicked Don Giovanni, played by David Kempster who resembled Clark Gable.
     On the way out, Rhys met the musicians from next door-one of whom is Rhys's guitar teacher.
     'Oh, you haven't been to the opera have you?', he said as if Rhys just wasn't the sort. To which Rhys replied,
     'Oh yes, it was wonderful and I want to go again!'

'Don Giovanni' is touring UK from the 12th of October 2011.