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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

A 42-cube, which reads 42 from three directions, a project I have wanted to realise for fifteen years, but until recently I thought it was impossible. Then I realised that given appropriate rotations combined with an appropriate font, it could be done.

This quick mockup was made using NumPy, SciPy and Mayavi. Ultimately, I would like to have it in physical form, but there remains some tweaking for that to be feasible.

Rotating 42 cube.

Rotating 42-cube.

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Another one from last year’s Pica pica challenge, this time the word was “gulps”. Not much to say about it, except that I am at least semi-fond of it…
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In last year’s Pica pica challenge, one of the words was “heartquake”. It felt natural to write a sonnet on the topic. I dedicate it to Baron Faucon de la Santé, and of course to Sir Patrick.
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Having read Skyman’s brilliant piece on borders, and seeing that most of the stuff published recently was his, I felt compelled to do something about that. Thus, this poem, which was written in a few hours this afternoon, and then not edited, so there are parts that I don’t really like, and I may go back and change these later. Anyway, here is a poem about borders: (more…)

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Warning: Wall of Text!
This was supposed to be a post about some maps I’ve drawn, but it turned into a minor essay (featuring fifteen footnotes and two poems). This regularly happens when I set about describing my work (this paragraph is no exception). I am terrible at leaving unimportant details out of the picture. Since the readership of this blog is very limited, however, I have decided that it is all right this way. I wrote it mostly for myself anyway. If you don’t want to read about my love for maps and my love for the works of Ursula K. Le Guin, feel free to jump to the maps, or got to Get Stuff where you will find more versions.
(I also made some animations of the planets revolving which can be found in a follow-up post.) If, on the other hand, you are interested in the background to and process involved in the making of the maps, you are more than welcome to continue reading.

Breaking News! New and improved versions of the maps available here!

Fan-cartography

I’ve always loved maps.

I remember, that when I first discovered fantasy (through The Hobbit, as it were), for many years I held the opinion, that a map was a sure sign of a good novel. If there were ample appendices or a word-list for a made up foreign tongue, all the better! I have since realised that a map is not a sure sign that a book is worth my time, and that not all the appendices in the world could save a bad book from being bad read — I remember one fantasy heptology in particular, whose appendices were beyond most in ambition, but whose story soon dwindled from acceptable to dull, and in the end turned offensively stupid. But I still hold, that a mediocre book can be saved by an inspired map, and that a good map always makes a good book more memorable.

After The Hobbit, I read Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings (great appendices), Eddings (mediocre, but good maps) and the Earthsea trilogy by Le Guin (excellent and with excellent maps [0]). At some point I discovered Science Fiction, and started to prefer it to Fantasy, even though science fiction novels seem to be utterly devoid of maps. Until I discovered The Dispossessed. Science fiction, by an author I knew I liked, from having read The Word for World is Forest and the Earthsea books — with a map!

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My dear friend Dr Grijndvar recently shared a thoughtful piece on his view on death, exemplified by a touching account of his relationship with his paternal grandmother.

Inspired by this, I thought I would take his advice of thinking of those dead and gone, and share a short piece of poetry that I wrote as a part of the “word-challenge” I was engaged in with Pica pica this spring. The word under scrutiny this time was “finsihes,” and the result (at long last) was the short piece below. It may not be entirely obvious, but each verse relates to someone dead and missed in my life.
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I am now packing things for the US (or for storage while I am away), and found a true gem! When I was in gymnasium (secondary school?), we found this christmas poem in the local newspaper. It is a truly atrocious christmas poem, and we loved it. For many years, while we had a mailing list of our own, someone sent this out to everyone every christmas. I now found that I actually cut it out of the newspaper and have been svaing it for the last thirteen years or so. Here it is: (more…)

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Being bored with just watching the tide come in in Dar-es-Salaam — this horrible blotch on an otherwise superb country — I wrote this poem. The quality reflects the quality of sleep I got while in Dar. (more…)

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This poem may require some explanation. In essence, it was written almost in real time (I have only corrected some spelling mistakes) during a Skype session, when Skyman suddenly presented me with the first line, set to the rhythm of one of the parts of Johan Ludwig Runeberg’s “Fänrik Ståls Sägner”, a great collection of war poetry from Sweden’s last war. I added the following lines, and so it continued until Skyman got tired and made a hurried ending to it. “S” denotes the lines given by Skyman, whereas “G” are the lines written by me.

A post-vanburenist is a follower of the critics of Jochem Josquin Van Buren, the famous 23rd century philosopher, scuba-diver, re-designer of the Bracknell Upright, and literary critic. Obviously. It should be noted that Skyman is a firm believer in post-vanburenism.
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Here is my attempt at a Gothic poem. As per usual it is CC: BY-SA, so share and enjoy!

I.

The night is cool, the night is calm,
the streets bereft of life.
In every house, in every home
Sleep now claims its tithe.

But one narrow window
bleeds with light;
there two-score candles
oppose the night.
It is the window
of a tired young girl,
who is much too frightened
to let dreams unfurl.

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