Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Nokia Owen Hopkins: A Triptych

Here are three extracts. They have two main things in common. Discuss.

There's a thing in my pocket.
But it’s not one thing – it’s many.
It’s the same as other things but exactly like nothing else.
It has an eye and an ear that shares what billions hear and see.
It’s not a living thing but if you feed it, it will grow.
It can speak a thousand words but it has no voice.
It can rally the masses; it can silence a crowd.
It can find you places so you can get lost.
It can go out and get without getting out.
And, it can let others feel what you’ve just been touched by.
There’s a thing in my pocket but it’s not one thing: it’s many.


Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.


I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
   dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
   Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
   As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
   Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

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