The great god Antithesis appeared to me as in a dream and spoke thus: "Here's a complimentary suggestion for your hot & cold blog, Saturday blogger. Write about a snowman in the desert." Therefore, being bereft of all other timely inspiration this New Year's Eve, I have treated his words like an injunction and opted to do just that.
Tapping into the theme of contraries (without which there is no progression, according to my friend Blake), I started obviously enough with hot and cold, then fire and ice, dry and wet, sweet and bitter, high and low, sun and snow and suddenly I was in southern Bolivia in June 2014, and guess what? There's been a terrific snow storm up on the
altiplano, part of the Atacama desert (some 12,000 feet above sea level) and the happy natives have built a snowman, the core of which survived (below) for a day or so after the rest of the snow melted swiftly away.
Oh my, the transience of all snowman life! That set me musing in broader terms about other contrasting pairs such as good and bad, rich and poor, legal and illegal as they might apply in a Bolivian sense. That country is the third largest grower of coca plants in the world and home to drug cartels that channel and supply great quantities of cocaine (also known euphemistically as Bolivian Marching Powder) to the Americas, Europe and beyond.
Those musings gave rise to today's briefest of poems (which I respectfully dedicate to the great god Antithesis). By the way, the Imaginarium has been a drug-free state for several decades now.
Snowman In The Desert
Snowjob he nose the highs
heart of ice grit in his eyes
but insubstantial the prize.
Shadowfear of elimination
haunts under altiplano sky.
Once a blazing raygun sun
concentrates all its fireforce
Snowjob meets a meltwater
death without gravemarker:
lives & dies fast no remorse.
Thanks for reading. Happy New Year ;-) S
Happy New Year Steve. That was fun.
ReplyDeleteTap either one! Love.
ReplyDeleteWitty words. I like what you've done in the poem esp. the concatenations (snowjob, shadowfear, fireforce etc) and the use of & in the last line. 👏
ReplyDeleteHas me snorting! 😉
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year. I loved that line "the transience of all snowman life!" Why is it called Bolivian Marching Powder?
ReplyDeleteAn amusing premise and an interesting poem.👍
ReplyDeleteYes, a witty post (as has been observed).
ReplyDeletePoor Snowjob! Happy New Year Steve. Thank you for all the blogs and poems. May 2023 bring you continued inspiration.
ReplyDeleteI remember that bitter back of the throat taste!
ReplyDeleteVery droll Mr R.
ReplyDeleteIt's a controversial topic, not one to be treated lightly. Cocaine has ruined many lives (not just of those who are addicted to it).
ReplyDeleteI looked Antithesis up, didn't realise he isn't an actual God! Feeling wiser now. 😂 I liked your poem though.
ReplyDeleteInteresting. I suppose thy don't get real snow that often in Bolivia?
ReplyDeleteSnowjob was a paradox, cold when he was hottest? Did I get it?
ReplyDeleteFood for thought. I particularly liked the last verse.Thanks, Steve
ReplyDeleteAs a metaphor for the tenuous human condition of a cocaine 'baron' I think it's neatly done. 👍
ReplyDeleteA clever and thought-provoking poem. I liked the graphic at the end as well :)
ReplyDeleteLoved the wit of this, including the cheeky namecheck for William Blake. Well done with the poem.
ReplyDeleteI felt sorry for the snowman. An all too fleeting existence.
ReplyDeleteThat's quite edgy humour.
ReplyDeleteCleverly done.
ReplyDeleteI thought it was a piece of cotton wool at first. I'm surprised that they don't have more snow at that height.
ReplyDeleteVery sharp poem.
Poignant post Steve.
ReplyDeleteIntriguing. It's a bad drug, cocaine but a great poem. "...meets a meltwater death without gravemarker" is particularly resonant.
ReplyDeleteWittily done. It's a good metaphor. I don't suppose it does snow that often in the high desert - not much moisture to make rain/snow.
ReplyDeleteA fun romp in the outer Imaginarium :)
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