#27 - Yellow, Red, White, Black

 Finally, we get to the core of the Classical Planets, watching Fay Roberts talk about the Sun.

We have a thousand names, we die each night
and then return to bring life to the land
our greatest gifts are knowledge – heat and light
united to help people understand

that hiding from our gaze will never work –
we dominate the sky from end to end
and our devoted fans would never shirk
from nominating those whom we must mend.

See, scientists and poets know the score:
that where we love too deep we surely hurt
the innocents who otherwise might soar
but plucked they plummet to their just desert.

They know that, given time, we’ll swell and burn
all those who stayed nearby done to a turn…

Narcissus sundiscs, because sometimes you have to obey the first thing out of the Google search algorithm. Image from the Thomas & Morgan gardening site.

#23 Hatter, not Hater

Fittingly running late (but quickly), Fay Roberts channels Mercury...

Prince Popinjay they call me, fly-by-night
Reticulating errand-boy and fraud
(I’m seeking your attention – please applaud!)
My brother named me patron of the sleight
As I touch down, more errant sparks take flight
My many talents follow me abroad
(Apparently my stock has really soared)
They say I’m easily bored (I think they’re right).

Erratic pizzicato? Maybe not…
Reticulating– wait, I said that part…
I lost my train of thought, so time to hop
Aboard the latest vehicle that’s hot
Had I the time to finish what I start
Gods know I’d love the chance to finally stop.

Rapidly turning GIF of Mercury (probably nicked off NASA), taken from GIFER.com

#19 - Dodging the Obvious

Far from home, but inspired by our planetary twin so close at hand, Fay Roberts (with a little help from zir friends) addresses Venus, another of the Classical Planets:

Now heralded by conches, you emerge;
adrift no more, your light is always there.
And though you rise and fall, your fateful surge
impels your host to heights beyond compare.

Your blissful dissonance beguiles our rest;
your messages of hope inform our dreams;
though many only see you at your best,
still others fall to wanton, guileful schemes.

It seems you run more hot, support less life
than Gaia, standing in the line of fire,
and those who skip the research offer strife
in your name to us souls blown in the gyre.

Though maiden, mother, victor, bearded, bald,
in any guise you’re more demand than skald.

Processed using infrared and ultraviolet (IR1, IR2, UV1 [283nm, 365nm]) filtered images of Venus taken by Akatsuki on August 24 and September 4 2016. JAXA/ISAS/DARTS/Kevin M. Gill via Wikimedia

#15 - Eclipse Us

Lackadaisically lunar, Fay Roberts dashes in under the closing door of the day with a take on the Moon, as part of zir examination of the seven Classical Planets.

We’ve longed for you as long as we have gazed
above our darkened state to raise the stakes,
and every nation large or small has praised
that glass in which we magnify mistakes.

You fill our nights with wonder and we miss
your silver bars when you have ducked from view.
While lovers tumble, grapple, howl, and kiss,
your visage blushes red, and royal blue.

As tides cannot be conquered, and the light
that hides in stubborn syzygy can’t die,
so you, our nearest neighbour in the fight
against our murky nature must not fly.

Strange forces change the nature of our tryst,
but, as we drift, please know your view is missed.

– FR

Lunar Libration with Phase October 2007 by Tomruen via Wikimedia

#11 - Ostinato

Today Fay Roberts examines Mars, and takes in all sorts of cultural wayposts as ze goes (some expanded on below the image).

But now the intro’s done, it’s far too late:
the hot-head with the coldest heart is here;
the tension mounts, you must accept your fate,
for here is one that you can love and fear.

Relentless, red, his pockmarked visage looms,
all atmosphere is drained and breathing grows
so difficult; the coloniser booms,
crescendoed to fortissississimo.

Though many find him lurid and profane,
here’s some who laud him guardian and more –
a route to honour and their rightful gain,
the means to set foot first on further shores.

But while they claim he represents their sex,
there’s more to manhood than a single X.

Mars GIF courtesy of Best Animations (no clue who created it though, sadly)

Some explanations may be necessary – ostinato is a term for “a motif or phrase that persistently repeats in the same musical voice, frequently in the same pitch,” which I first encountered in the description of Holst’s first piece in The Planet Suite – Mars, Bringer of War, where the intro’s percussive motif is played col legno, with the strings of the stringed instruments being hit by the wood of the bow. The piece builds to the loudest dynamic in formal, “Western” classical music: fortissississimo (ffff).

Any other interpretations in this poem… well, that’s up to you…

#7 - A Jovial Lay

Delayed due to migraineʼs bitter curse, Fay Roberts explores Jupiter, the largest and oldest of the Classical Planets.

High winds above this bright and stormy night
sing shrill, warm hallelujahs to the king
who dwarfs the other monarchs in his might
and main, amassing wards in lieu of bling.

Wives and daughters, lovers, fools, and more
attend his majesty, the first to rise
and dedicate his thunder to the score
of all aoidoi laid upon the skies.

But kings should hear, as bards know best of all,
that hubris has a knack for bringing low
the mightiest, and even kings can fall
and break their pride on what they used for show.

When destiny contracts from near and far
you’ll either end up dust or as a star.

Jupiter, © NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Southwest Research Institute via Wikipedia

#3 - King of the Six

 As Fay Roberts explores the Seven Classical Planets this month, ze starts far out with Saturn: 

We start in darkness – where else could we hide 
from father feasting at the edge of light? 
Bright issues spring from him, and more besides, 
his bloody harvest garlanded with spite. 

He tells us that his rule’s a Golden Age 
(before we learn to fear, and then to hate), 
and verdant meadows form an open cage 
without the fire with which we circle fate. 

But in the depths of winter tables turn, 
the lowest mounting up on stilts of mirth, 
and in the dark the merest glimmers burn – 
together we relearn to coax hope’s birth. 

While those about to die acknowledge him, 
it’s better to be sanguine than be grim. 

– FR

Avoiding copyright issues, Fay made this graphic zirself.