Storm at Nice, 1919
Henri Matisse, Matisse Museum
Quel Surprise
A calm Mediterranean
blew itself up suddenly.
A barnacled memory
of its former territories
broke loose.
It rose three metres
above itself in torrential fury,
bashed the beach,
pounded the promenade,
heaped fifty cars on top of themselves.
Swallowed four luxury
yachts, spat them back
onto the wrecked shore.
Drowned five inveterate
year-round swimmers.
Carried off six
plage bistros,
all their furniture
and hundreds of cases
of champagne.
It reshaped the landscape
of the bay.
Peter Clarke
Revised 26th July 2023
A Synchronicity
Having got over the shock of learning to put up a page all over again, I considered that I should do it soon to reinforce the learning. So here goes.
In 1919, Henri Matisse painted a storm scene in Nice, where he was living at the time, and this painting is part of the exhibition in the Matisse museum this summer. When I saw it, it put me in mind of a piece I wrote some years ago. So here are both pieces. It is exceptionally arrogant of me to have a poem of mine in the same space as a Matisse. Nevertheless!! They also seem pertinent this year because of the current dramatic weather conditions. It cannot be possible to ignore any longer, but maybe that is just what will happen until it is too late.
As usual enjoy and comment. It is not possible to put comments up on the page but you can click on the email address and send me your feedback. I welcome it all.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024