Colour

What’s the most popular colour in the world? I’ll come to that in a minute but I can reveal now that it is not a beigey sort of brown. No, that’s just mine. I met a Colour Therapist on a train journey many years ago who explained that the seven colours of the spectrum relate to the seven main chakras - or energy centres - of the body. Depending on your mood and physical health, she would use specific colours to treat the afflicted parts of someone’s body. I wonder now what she’d use beigey brown for.

But what is colour anyway? Well, it’s not actually a thing in itself. In physics, colour is associated specifically with electromagnetic radiation of a certain range of wavelengths. The visible light spectrum is the segment of the electromagnetic spectrum that the human eye can view. Typically, the human eye can detect wavelengths from 380 to 700 nanometres.

 

Our ability to distinguish colours is based upon the varying sensitivity of different cells, called rods and cones, in the retina to light of those different wavelengths. Rods are responsible for vision at low light levels, cones are responsible for vision at higher light levels. When light hits the rods and cones (termed photoreceptors) they turn the light into electrical signals. These electrical signals travel from the retina through the optic nerve to the brain. Then the brain turns the signals into the images we can see.

And what we see in terms of colour preferences according to Chris, the founder of The Organic & Natural Paint Co, is an astonishing range of opinions and emotions that are influenced by cultural, social, and personal factors. He is the one who has done the research to discover that favourite colour.

But before we come to that he also asked ‘What is the Most Humble Colour’? A question that had never occurred to me. He says that a humble colour can be described as one that evokes feelings of modesty, simplicity, and understatement. It is a hue that doesn’t demand attention but rather blends into the background, providing a subtle and calming presence. This is me.

And then ‘How Do I Choose My Favourite Colour?’ He says that one way to identify your favourite colour is to consider the feelings, memories, and associations that different hues evoke for you. For example, if the colour blue brings to mind happy childhood memories or feelings of tranquillity, it may be a strong contender for your favourite shade.

Pay attention to your emotional reactions when encountering various colours. If a particular hue consistently brings you joy or a sense of calm, it may be your favourite colour.

He suggests that your favourite colour may be influenced by the colours that dominate your surroundings. Take note of the hues that recur in your wardrobe, home décor, and other personal spaces. This may provide clues to the colours that resonate most with you. Well, the fact that my bathroom is red, my kitchen is blue and my lounge is brown has a resonance, but I’m not sure what it means. But my walls are a glorious shade of beige.

So, I’ll move on to the great reveal and let Chris explain:

With over 7 billion people on the planet, identifying the world’s favourite colour is no small feat. However, we’ve delved into the subject to uncover the most beloved hue across different cultures and time periods. The result? Blue emerges as the most adored colour by people across the globe.

Rothko 'Blue'

And just to show I’m with it and for your information British Vogue and Pantone declared ‘Mocha Mousse’ the Colour of The Year 2025 which ‘captures the global zeitgeist’ and answers ‘our desire for comfort’ in its references to chocolate, coffee and indulgence.

Well, I’ve been saying things about colour:

Once it was the Colour of Saying

Once it was the colour of saying
Soaked my table the uglier side of a hill
With a capsized field where a school sat still
And a black and white patch of girls grew playing;
The gentle seaslides of saying I must undo
That all the charmingly drowned arise to cockcrow and kill.
When I whistled with mitching boys through a reservoir park
Where at night we stoned the cold and cuckoo
Lovers in the dirt of their leafy beds,
The shade of their trees was a word of many shades
And a lamp of lightning for the poor in the dark;
Now my saying shall be my undoing,
And every stone I wind off like a reel.

                                                                    Dylan Thomas

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

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"True Blue"

Recently I read an article in the Telegraph newspaper saying that 2023 was a good time to visit Barcelona. The reason for visiting Barcelona this year is that it is the 50th anniversary of the death of the artist Pablo Picasso who continues to inspire and influence generations of painters and artists. There are several exhibitions in Barcelona this year that feature Picasso and his many artistic styles including Cubism, Surrealism, Symbolism as well as painting war, most famously Guernica, violence, women and the beauty of the natural world.

However, one of his earliest and most famous artistic phases was his Blue Period in which all his paintings depicted scenes of poverty, beggars and drunks in monochromatic shades of blue and blue-green. The austere blue colour and the impoverished subject matter reflected Picasso’s own depression which may have been influenced by his own poverty and instability and the suicide of his friend Carlos Casagemas.

Blue Nude, Picasso (1902)

The use of the monochromatic blue and blue-green as well as the subject matter may also have acted as a form on art therapy for Picasso as he tried to come to terms with his various crises. It may also be a reflection of his guilt regarding his friend’s death as he was not there to help him in his hour of need resulting in Carlos’s suicide.

While reading about Picasso’s Blue Period I found out that making the colour blue for painting was very difficult until the early nineteenth century. For millennia, the only blue available was ultramarine (beyond the sea) which was ground up from the semi-precious stone lapis lazuli.

Lapis lazuli was mined in the Badakhshan province in Northeast Afghanistan from Neolithic times and it was transported all over the ancient world. These Afghan mines were the sole known source of lapis lazuli and so the price of this semi-precious gemstone and the ground up pigments that made the paint ultramarine was extremely expensive. This meant lapis lazuli and ultramarine were the preserve of royalty and the ruling elites. As usual.

lapis lazuli link bracelet

Lapis Lazuli artefacts such as beads, statuettes and carvings have been found all over the ancient world in places like the Indus Valley, Mesopotamia, the Caucasus and Egypt. Perhaps the most famous use of lapis lazuli occurs in Ancient Egypt in the funeral mask of the Pharoah Tutankhamun where it was used on the eye surrounds and eyebrows. Lapis lazuli is also mentioned a number of times in the Mesopotamian poem the Epic of Gilgamesh, (17th-18th century BC) which is one of the oldest known surviving works of literature.

mask of Tutankhamun (1323 BC)

In the early Middle Ages, lapis lazuli was being exported to Europe and the pigment ultramarine was now being called “true blue.” When it arrived in Venice, lapis lazuli/ultramarine/”true blue” became the most valuable and desired paint colour in European Middle Ages. Lapis Lazuli was as expensive as gold and given its prohibitive cost it was only used for the most important subjects such as the Virgin Mary and only the most affluent patrons could commission art works which invariably meant only the Church could afford such projects

During the early medieval period, blue did not feature much in Christian iconography and it is only with the arrival of stained glass making did the colour attain its symbolism and meaning. Apparently, from the twelfth century blue glass began to symbolise divine light. The colour came to represent heaven and more particularly, the Virgin Mary and the Child Jesus.

In many ways, blue became associated with Mary’s mourning for the death of Jesus and in the twelfth century the colour became more luminescent thereby wrapping Mary in divine and holy light. In turn, this meant blue grew in popularity, value and religious implication for medieval peoples in Europe.

Madonna of the Book, Botticelli (1480)

Consequently, blue pigment became more and more expensive and artists needed to use it sparingly in their artwork. Apparently, Raphael gained a reputation for being frugal due to his limited use of ultramarine such in the final finish for Mary’s blue robe. Vermeer, on the other hand bought so much blue that his family got into financial difficulties due to his largesse.

Further investigation revealed that over the centuries, the high cost and high demand for blue was becoming more and more prohibitive. The search for a cheaper alternative blue pigment meant that in 1824 France’s Société pour l’Encouragement d’Industrie offered a princely 6000 francs reward to anyone who could invent a synthetic colour ultramarine blue. As ever, when financial inducements are offered, human ingenuity, motivation and skulduggery is stimulated and even encouraged

Within two years, a German professor, Christian Gmelin and a French chemist, Jean Baptiste Guimet, both invented synthetic ultramarine. However, as French national honour was at stake, the French chemist was declared the winner and received the prize money. The reaction of Christian Gmelin to the news of the French victory is unknown.

As time passed, the invention of synthetic blue paint meant the colour blue was now cheaper and more widely available to artists and lapis lazuli was no longer required. Demand for this commodity began to wane as artists embraced the new paint technology. The price of lapis lazuli fell and the need to transport it all the way from Afghanistan evaporated. Supply and demand in action the free marketeers might say.

So, if you are looking for somewhere to visit in 2023 then look no further than Barcelona and the exhibitions that celebrate the great artist, Pablo Picasso. There you can marvel at his genius and the story behind the colour blue.

Lapis Lazuli

From Neolithic Man in the mountains of

Afghanistan all the way through to the
Taliban, men have fought over your lustrous form

From Sar-i Sang’s towering citadel stronghold
Your fame spread south, east and
West without stopping for pause or rest

Your deep, deep blue was speckled, freckled
With Mica white pulsating a vibrant midnight
Star bright night

You were bestowed with spiritual essence, an
Almost mystical presence infusing burial beads,
Tutankhamun’s Mask and the heavened Sistine Chapel

Now you’re bought and sold, more expensive
Than gold, for bullets and bombs, to destabilise,
Terrorise global populations

But the mindless acts of mediocre men will
Not despoil your beauty, your wisdom. Your peace
Shines through, untarnished, undimmed as before.

Dermot Moroney 2023

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Blue - Let's Read!

 

The best years of my working life were spent in a primary school. That amazing world of the four to seven year olds taught me more than they learnt from me and filled me with a ‘feel good factor’ on most days. Looking back, my reasons for leaving could have been looked into and dealt with. I should have asked. I wish I’d stayed, but I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I soon realised that the new job was a mistake. It made me unhappy. One lunch time, I sat on a bench in the garden of St John’s church in town – it’s gone now, someone in authority thought it would be nice to take it all away and pedestrianise the whole area with cobble stones – I’d walked past the closed down Syndicate nightclub which I still called the ABC Theatre and Tommy Steele came to mind. I’d seen him there on several occasions. The song ‘Singing the Blues’ was in my head and made me smile in my sorrow as it was exactly how I felt. I had overcome a lot of what life had thrown my way and as I bit into my sandwich and held back tears, I knew I had to overcome this. I was doing my best in difficult circumstances and that lunch time, I felt so upset that I didn’t want to go back to work, but I had to. Over the years I managed to carve a reasonable niche for myself. When I felt a smidgen of a sense of belonging, I realised I’d succeeded, I hadn’t been beaten. I was relieved to retire.

Being retired and having the freedom to do anything I fancy brings joy. Last summer I was happy to be back in my comfort zone, reading stories to groups of Year 2 children at the primary school where I used to work and now attended by my grandchildren.  The afternoon weather was glorious, blue skies and sunshine, so we all sat outside, the children on blankets, adults on chairs. I loved every minute and expressed my thanks to the teacher in charge who had organised it. Covid restrictions had prevented anything like this and reduced school volunteering to zero. There was nothing coming up as far as anyone knew.

Out of the blue, there has been a recent shout out for volunteers to listen to children reading. I put myself forward as soon as I read the email. I’ve been processed through all the necessary checks, got a training meeting lined up and look forward to starting. Things will have moved on from Billy Blue-hat and One, Two, Three and Away, and all the Better Reading resources I used. Whatever happened to Janet and John? I’m ready to learn new methods and anything which helps children to enjoy reading, and if they’re doing it on an iPad or some other screen, it’s better than not doing it at all. With my grandchildren, I’m slowly learning to move with the times and embrace their use of electronic devices. Everything has its purpose, as I found out on one of my baby-sitting adventures.

My poem,

Armed with felt-tips in shades of blue
And green and yellow and red.
Pads of paper, puzzle books, too,
Plenty of fun before bed.

I took along a story book
And some games that they might share,
But they were too involved to look
Said, ‘put them over there.’

They said ‘hello’, the hug, a snatch.
I noticed an obvious glitch,
My baby-sitting is no match
For a new Nintendo Switch.

PMW 2023

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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This Bird Has Flown - Bless You, Billy

 

A recent episode of the new All Creatures Great and Small took me back to my childhood. The story included a blue budgerigar, left at the vet’s surgery for minor treatment, to be collected later by the owner, a blind lady. Spoiler alert – skip the rest of this paragraph if you don’t want to know what happens. Sadly, the budgie chooses this excursion to fall off his ornithological perch, expired. Rather than give the lady bad news, the vet decides to replace her pet with another and is sure she won’t know the new budgie is a green one. The small detail of the blue one never singing and the green one being very chirpy was overlooked, otherwise all was well in the end.

One day when I was a young child, I came home from school to find a new addition to the family. In the sitting room, in a cage hooked on to one of those bird-stands, a pretty, pale blue budgerigar was tutting to its reflection in its own vanity mirror, head going side to side. I was in awe, it was so sweet and I loved it straight away. We named him Billy. My dad took charge of his care but showed me how to top up Billy’s seeds, give him fresh water and wedge a piece of cuttlefish shell between the bars of the cage to rub his beak on. I was thrilled to have another pet. We had a dog that liked his own company and a cat that was always pregnant or nursing kittens, so it was better to leave her alone. I could stand and talk to Billy, tell him about school and how I was doing. I was shocked to go to the cage after school one day and find a green budgie. My dad told me Billy had matured. He said all budgies started off blue and turned green into adulthood. Of course, I believed him I had no reason not to. Many years later the truth came out. Bless him for saving my tears. I have read that some types of budgies do change colour as their feathers are replaced, but this tends to be a shade darker, or a mix.

Lovely Billy, blue or green, long gone but remembered with fondness and All Creatures Great and Small gave me a happy memory.

Maya Angelou's Caged Bird

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Thanks for reading, Pam x

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Lost in a sea of blue

I love it when the theme is a colour. It allows the creative juices to flow, I mean, it could be a blue anything, right?!

I have, however, gone with perhaps a more obvious topic as this week has been a bit of a hectic one to say the least, thereby meaning that this was a little rushed. For that you have my apologies.

Depression. A taboo that many do not want to discuss openly. Yet something that most of us encounter at some point in varying degrees. From the "milder" end of feeling under par and blue, to the extremes of Clinical, Chronic, Manic and more. I say, do not be ashamed! Why should you be? The human condition is weird, wonderful and downright bizarre. WE ARE ALL STRANGE! There is no such thing as "normal". Do not be afraid to talk to someone about it, and if you do and don't get any positive response, then go to someone else, because in all likelihood that first person is too scared to talk about it, or doesn't understand it. Many of the older generation were to just pull themselves together! Stiff upper lip and all that nonsense. No. Sorry. I won't condone allowing someone to suffer in silence!

I have been there at varying points in my life, at various degrees of severity. It isn't something to be ignored. My poem this week draws partly from experience and also fiction.


Blue: The swirling currents grab in a savage embrace. Pulling, dragging down in to the dark. Riptides wrapped around not only body, but lungs; the very air being wrung out. The heart pounding in panic, ... until ... too stressed, it barely beats at all. At this moment nothing matters. Despair weighs heavily in the pit of my stomach
plunging me further down. ... Then ... I see your face in the ripples above, distorted but definitely you! I reach towards you, beckoning, pleading, yearning for the touch of your hand; your embrace.
The words: "SAVE ME!"
escape from my mouth
in large violent bubbles
and float away,
zigging and zagging
up to you.
Then you're there! Pulling me towards you, wrapping your arms around me, keeping me safe ... and warm ... and loved! and that's how I am ... Blue ... until you return to my side. Must you go again?



Thanks for reading! Have a great week. ;-) x

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Blue Sky Thinking

This week my lawn mower broke down.  It seems like an insignificant detail but for me it meant respite:  at least for one day.  It was the first time this year that I could actually sit in my garden without working.  I put the sun-lounger in the middle of a daisy-filled, foot high, meadow that has replaced the lawn and having satisfied myself that there were no wild animals hiding in the undergrowth, I put on shorts and sunglasses, to relax while the washing dried.

I looked at the sky.  I love looking at the sky.  I didn’t look at it for long because I drifted off to sleep

but later I decided to research the sky.  Something was at the back of my mind. Something I had seen in a television series presented by Professor Brian Cox.  Fortunately, I had bought the book from the series, Wonders Of The Solar System and after a short time reading I opened my notebook and began to form a poem.

 

As part of the series, Professor Cox went up in a Lightning jet fighter to the edge of our atmosphere, to experience for himself and to show his audience a phenomenon that few human beings will ever see. The English Electric Lightning is a 1950’s supersonic plane that was used by the RAF as an interceptor with another characteristic, previously a military secret: It can also fly far higher than it designated operating height of 18,000 metres, (66,000 feet). On a NATO exercise in 1984, an RAF pilot attempted to fly it at 27,000 metres (88,000 feet), to test its ability to intercept the U2 spy plane. The Lightning surpassed expectations reaching a height that took the pilot above 99 per cent of the earth’s atmosphere.

 

During his own experience at the same altitude, Professor Cox announces:

“I’m seeing the land, the air and the beginnings of the vacuum of infinite space in a single field of view and the word to describe it is ‘fragile’.’’

 

I hope that if you haven’t seen the series that you will take a look at the link ,  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwgfU228clE or get hold a copy of the book.  As a child, I was fascinated by flight and wanted to know everything there was to know about ‘all that nothing that can never end, ’ in particular what held it all up there. Scientists are still struggling with the same question, so I can take solace form that.  I found the series truly mesmerising and have to thank the Professor for inspiring my poem.

 

 

 

The Thin Blue Line

 

Up there.

Way up there,

beyond the nimbus and the stratus,

almost as far as your imagination dares to climb,

at the edges of existence,

enveloping our atmosphere,

holding life together,

sits the thin blue line.

 

Unless you dare to leave the gravity that holds you.

Unless you fly so high, you almost venture into space.

Unless you go beyond the oxygen and nitrogen that breathe you,

you may never see the smile that curves around our earthly mother’s face.

 

We live our lives beneath it,

it holds the warmth inside it,

protects us from the solar scorch

and violent cosmic winds.

Fragile and invisible,

it grows the green that feeds us,

it waters all of Eden,

it provides a promised land.

 

We cannot feel or touch it

but if we don’t respect it,

then our children’s, children’s, children

may not share your world and mine.

We push it to the limit,

stress it out with greed and industry

and like any other living thing,

one day,  it may flat-line.

 

Look up from your hand-set,

switch off your computer,

go into the open 

and gaze up to the sky.

Wonder at its wonder,

it vastness and simplicity,

take time to simply sit

and watch the clouds roll by.

This is our home,

our planet earth,

filled with beauty and diversity.

We are fortunate to live beneath the thin blue line.

 

Adele V Robinson.

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Out In The Blue

This week's theme BLUE...well I was certain that I might have a piece to fit the bill. After all I'm always  " out in the blue " , so to speak. Spending a lot of time walking in the mountains, by lochs and seashore - but no - nothing in my archives. So I had to find some time to write something.

Blue - a word used to describe a colour, a mood, a naughty joke, an additive to whiten washing, a type of music (Blues ) , an ice dance ( the Blues ), bad language - - to name a few. I tend to link the word with songs like " Blue Moon " , " I'd Rather be Blue " , " Am I Blue ? " , " Blue Heaven " , " Blue Velvet " - -probably because I go dancing and these tunes often crop up. The colour blue often turns up on my photographs - -blue sky, blue lakes, far distant blue mountains, glacier ice appearing blue.

We associate blue with summer skies and the seaside - yet we talk about being "blue with the cold " in the depths of winter. Without the colour blue our world would be much duller as it makes up other colours - greens, jades, lilacs, purples, greys. Imagine being without " Blue "!

By the way the photograph is from my 2015 file and it's entitled " Blue blue "

Blue Eyes

I miss those blue eyes

that twinkled with mischief,

those eyes that shed no tears,

that gazed at me with love.

Blue eyes are gone now -

The light went out.

 

 

Kath Curtiss (aka Lady Curt). Thanks for reading.

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Considering Blue...

Blue.

Blue is the colour of The Beautiful South
and the swear words to help you know Alice
it is power and sadness that combined with gold
makes a green known for envy and malice.

Blue is the tone of the angry dark sky,
It is ice cool, it is sirens and cops
It is powerful waterfalls, quaint garden birds
it is seasides and strutting peacocks.

Blue is the colour of comfortable jeans
It is water- half the surface of Earth
We attach it to boys and their violent toys
Yet it's the shade that they chose for the Smurfs.

Lapis Lazuli, Sapphire, alcopops
All the valuable things- Chelsea's football socks
For the old to the new- there's a fashionable blue
Whether sex pills or willow plate pots. 

To a wonderful hue then, wherever you find it
From the oceans right up to the skies
Build a tapestry quilt from the various shades,
For we all need some blue in our lives. 


Thanks for reading, S

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Dead Good Poetry Show - Live on Air Now

 on air now!


Just a reminder that tonight's edition of the Dead Good Poetry Show will be playing for the next two hours on Fylde Coast Community Radio.

On tonight's show there will be recordings 'live from the No. 5' including Louise Barklam, Scarlett Clegg, Kelly Vaentine Anderson and Howard as well as several others and some intense word battles.

There will also be an extract from Colin Davies's Anagramophobia and a chance to win a copy in an exclusive poetry competition.

I'm hoping to have a live chat with poet, author and creative writing guru, Megan Kerr.

And, as always, there will be some great music, live poetry and lots and lots of fun. The theme this week is the colour blue - which means there should be something for everyone.

Tweet poems to @deadgoodpoets  on Twitter, or share poems through the Lancashire Dead Good Poets FaceBook page, or send mail direct to deadgoodpoets@hotmail.co.uk.

To be a part of the experience find Fylde Coast Community Radio on any one of the links below.

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Things I Wouldn’t Put in My Mouth - a very short list

 by Ashley Lister

  

 I try not to put anything blue in my mouth. This includes blue Smarties.

Smarties have been with us in one form or another since 1882. According to Wikipedia they were briefly renamed Smarties Chocolate Beans in 1937 but forced to change the name the following year because it was feared the word ‘beans’ might be misleading.

You might read that previous sentence and wonder how stupid the chocolate buying public must be if it’s thought they would be confused in such a way. Read on and find out just how stupid the chocolate buying public really is.

The blue Smartie was introduced in 1988 to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Smarties being called Smarties. The crispy shell of the Smartie was turned blue by the addition of various food colourings, including E133 – Brilliant Blue.

Although the blue Smartie was only supposed to be a brief promotional tool it was an immediate success. Blue foods are unusual in nature and, aside from this novelty aspect, children reportedly liked the way it stained the tongue.

But it transpired that blue Smarties were possibly not the healthiest item that parents should be forcing down their children’s throats – and bear in mind this was the late eighties after the success of Jimmy Savile and Gary Glitter when quite a lot of unpalatable things had already been stuffed down children's throats. In a fascinating article about blue Smarties and the toxic cocktail of additives they contained, (http://autoimmunethyroid.wordpress.com/2006/06/01/blue-smarties-and-the-cocktail-effect/) a writer on behalf of the Auto Immune Thyroid Disease website transcribes parliamentary reports on the toxicity of the blue Smarties.

This is from the paper cited in that article:

“The research suggests that specific combinations can have a neurotoxic effect.

The researchers at the University of Liverpool examined the toxic effects on nerve cells by using a combination of the following four common food additives:

E133 Brilliant Blue with E621 monosodium glutamate (MSG) and

E104 Quinoline Yellow with E951 L-aspartyl-L-phenylalanine methyl ester.

The mixtures of the additives had a much more potent effect on nerve cells than each additive on its own. The effect on cells was up to four times greater when Brilliant Blue and MSG were combined, and up to seven times greater when Quinoline Yellow and Aspartame were combined.

The study shows that when the nerve cells were exposed to MSG and Brilliant Blue or Aspartame and Quinoline Yellow the additives stopped the nerve cells from normal growth and interfered with proper signalling systems.

The experiments were done in laboratory conditions and the additives were combined in concentrations that theoretically reflect the compound that enters the bloodstream after a typical children’s snack and drink.

Shortly after this research was published, Nestlé Rowntree dropped their blue Smartie.”

Whilst it’s laudable that Nestlé Rowntree dropped their blue Smartie after laboratory experiments had proved that the product had the potential to cause brain damage in its young target audience, it seems to me that this information wasn’t made clear to the general public. Either that or the effects of brain damage were already in place.

FaceBook groups were created demanding the blue Smartie be brought back. Individuals began campaigning to have the blue Smartie reintroduced. People spoke nostalgically about the ‘good old days’ of the blue Smartie and waxed wistfully and lyrically about the ‘all blue packs’.

Bowing to public pressure, Nestlé Rowntree have reintroduced a blue Smartie with the aid of a natural colour obtained from a seaweed called spirulina. Personally I think it’s only natural to eat things obtained from seaweed if you’re a piece of plankton, although I’m not expert on these matters and it could be my brain functions have been damaged from eating too many blue Smarties as a child.

However, this methadone version of the original blue Smartie seems to have satisfied consumer appetites so now everyone is happy (apart from the Nestlé Rowntree CEO who believes that all water should be privatised - but that's different blog for a different day).

What does this have to do with poetry? I’ve written a poem.

I’d eat your blue stilton, even though that stuff is blue

I’d drink your blue Blue Bols at a request from you

I would lick your blue waffle if you really wanted that from me

But I would never ever eat your nasty blue Smartie

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A country road. A tree.

 

The scent of pig is faint tonight

as the lime trees hang their heads against gradations of blue,

looking at the lone suitcase in the middle of the farmyard

with a sense of solidarity. Also forgotten. 

 

From Gradations of Blue by Matthea Harvey (2000)

There are many vivid images in this poem on memory and ageing.  Memories are described as weights that are carried with us as we age, a journey suggested by birds, a barge, a plane, trucks, a suitcase, a colony of ants etc.  The poet has described herself as "a general gatherer" and her poetry often contains collections of objects, glimpses of items retrieved from a shoe box. 

The first two couplets in Gradations of Blue remind me of the stage directions for a Beckett play.  An incredibly efficient use of image and word which perfectly sets a scene.  In fact, in the style of Hemingway's 'baby shoe' story, there is an entire narrative contained in those four lines, should you choose to imagine it. 

It strikes me that we could write similar scenes by creating a list. So, let's have a pop at it.  Here's what we need:

• a scent (pigs - faint)
• a time of day (night)
• a character/s (lime trees/suitcase)
• a colour (gradations of blue)
• an object (suitcase)
• a location (farmyard)
• a feeling (solidarity)
• a statement (Also forgotten)

You might like to start with the location and work the other details out from there.  Here's my list:

• a location - bathroom
• a scent  - bleach
• a time of day - mid-afternoon
• a character/s - skirting board
• a colour - metallic silver
• an object - lock
• a feeling - shame
• a statement - impersonal personal space

And two couplets:

The skirting board is no longer white, though bleach foam
eats at its feet. A crack where the door fits, slip of light;

cold afternoon.  Steel bolt points down in shame, to the sickened
board.  Off-white: no colour at all.



Give it a go.  See what you come up with then please do share.

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My life in Death - Poem inspired by the colour blue

This weeks theme is the colour blue. For some reason this poem came into my mind. I hope you enjoy it.


My life in Death
In many shadows I walk
The moon's smile showing me the way
Streets in silver highlight with whispered talk
Shivers of a long forgotten day

I miss the warmth of sunshine in my blood
Destiny deals such a heavy hand
To walk once more through the early spring bud
Hearing the brass blasts of the Salvation band

But of all the things I miss in light
The scape I still yearn to view
To look up in to an infinite sky
And blind myself with spread of blue

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Totally devoted to green

Totally devoted to green

Oh Green,

I am so hopeful,

That the fields and the trees will stay,

And fill my vista for mile and miles,

Evoking the medium wavelength triggers of the M cone cells in my eyes everyday.

Oh Green,

You are not blue.

More a Mixture of cyan and yellow in the subtractive colour system in print,

One of the three additive lights of screens,

The colour of a spearmint.

Oh Green,

You so lovely,

As de Bono's creative thinking hat.

The shine of Jade and Emeralds,

The probably glow of Schrödinger’s cat.

Oh Green,

I am so jealous,

Of your soft warm natural hue.

And in the continuum of colours of visible light,

You are located between Yellow and Blue.

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