Friday 4 October 2024

Michael Bartholomew-Biggs, "Identified Flying Objects"



Michael Bartholomew-Biggs is a retired mathematician living in London. He is the current poetry editor of the online magazine London Grip and, in partnership with Nancy Mattson, has for over twenty years organised the Islington reading series Poetry in the Crypt (now re-invented as Poetry Above the Crypt). His latest book, Identified Flying Objects, contains poems triggered by quotations from the prophet Ezekiel and thus maintains the fondness for unusually-themed collections shown in his previous publications Poems in the Case, which combines poetry with a murder mystery, and Fred & Blossom which tells a more or less true story of love and light aviation in the 1930s.


About Identified Flying Objects, by Michael Bartolomew-Biggs
The USP for Identified Flying Objects is that all the poems are linked to quotations from the Old Testament Book of Ezekiel. The idea of using this as a basis for a collection came to the author when he was semi-immobilised with a broken leg and, like Ezekiel, was working out how to deal with misfortune. The Book of Ezekiel is of course concerned with a much bigger misfortune – the plight of the Israelites taken captive by the Babylonians during the 6th century BC – and it seeks both to explain why God let it happen and also to offer a divine promise of eventual release.

Whatever one believes about its theological content, the Book of Ezekiel does contain some remarkable passages such as the first proposal for a heart transplant and an almost cinematic image of a valley full of dry bones which reassemble themselves and then gain sinews, flesh and skin to become living bodies. More down-to-earth (and still relevant) are the stern and imaginative rebukes Ezekiel delivers to corrupt and abusive rulers and his exasperated likening of the general public to ill-natured sheep led by incompetent and irresponsible shepherds. And of course there are also his mysterious visions in the sky which inspire the collection’s title poem.

Although the poems in this collection have been triggered by some of Ezekiel’s words they do not aim to paraphrase Ezekiel’s message. Some of them place an Ezekiel-like (or Ezekiel-lite!) speaker in a modern setting while others offer a twenty-first century reaction to a single image from the prophet’s text. Ezekiel might recognise – even endorse – the sentiments of a few of the poems; but many of them would probably puzzle him or even arouse his disapproval.  Attitudes have changed in the last two and half thousand years and Ezekiel’s view of the collection might well include a Hebrew equivalent of the word “woke”. But, even if his words have been carelessly and anachronistically appropriated, Ezekiel’s prophetic voice might still be heard, urging present-day readers to resist the regrettably common human tendency to ignore well-founded predictions.


From Identified Flying Objects

Heart Transplants - Side Effects & FAQs  

Rejection is a major issue
when a doctor takes a stone-still heart  
and substitutes donated tissue.

But if physicians have dismissed you
as a hopeless case you’ll take the risk – 
rejection’s not your biggest issue.

At the brink of that abyss you
wish you had been born with nerves of steel
instead of much-too-nervous tissue.

When something inside’s gone amiss you
might not need replacement body parts
so much as fresh supplies of sisu.
**

You meet your surgeons who address you
only from behind a mask: perhaps 
because they do not want to face you?

You’re told by the anaesthetist you
sleep before you’ve counted down from ten.
You hope his needle doesn’t miss you.

You dream that nurses come and kiss you
wearing scrubs – are antiseptic pecks 
distractions so they can undress you?

And when you start to convalesce, you
don’t get solid food: will you survive
digesting only tiramisu?
**

I’ll turn your stone hearts into flesh: you
needn’t care what rocks you’ll lose – your faith
in miracles is what’s at issue.

If old resentment finds a fissure
In your new-made heart my remedy
is grafting in forgiving tissue.
(Redemption is a bigger issue.)


I will also give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit within you. I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh. Ezekiel 36:26

Sisu is a Finnish word whose meaning can be approximated by a combination of such concepts as stoicism and determined resistance.


Social Distancing

We are managing the situation.

Whenever people flow like water
through the holy interlocking boxes
of a stadium, emporium
or auditorium, their leaders
and role models must be seen among them
only briefly rubbing elbows –
never pressing hands – and passing on 
no more than they brought in with them.
They are all in this together.

As they stream through lobbies,
passages and concourses
from north and south not one of them 
may leave the way they entered.
All turnstile counters click in one direction
for the regular attenders;
any strangers, misfits
or occasional creatives
have to slip through gaps in calculation.


He who enters by the way of the north gate to worship shall go out by the way of the south gate; and he who enters by the way of the south gate shall go out by the way of the north gate. He shall not return by the way of the gate by which he came in, but shall go out straight before him.  Ezekiel 46:9,10


Identified Flying Objects

Sceptics guess that magic mushrooms helped
to open Heaven – or perception’s doors –
in Babylon  and show the awed and shocked 
Ezekiel some version of
the gyroscope and helicopter
in advance of L. da Vinci.

Ezekiel did not make sketches. He left
words instead of blueprints. Hence his engines,
while attracting less mechanical
analysis than Leonardo’s,
leave a lot more room for extra
terrestrial imaginings.

Some fantasists insist that aliens
can scrawl art deco doodles in our fields
and navigate the planet via ley lines.
Others say time-travellers
could show Ezekiel a future
three millennia ahead.

Perhaps he caught a glimpse of locust-gunships
stuttering across Iraqi deserts, 
stop-start – like the freeze-frame hovering
of hummingbirds he’d never known –
and bringing down much cruder forms
of shock and awe on Babylon.
 

The heavens were opened, and I saw visions of God… Out of its centre came the likeness of four living creatures. …There was one wheel on the earth beside the living creatures … Their appearance and their work was as it were a wheel within a wheel … When the living creatures were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up.  Ezekiel 1:1-19

Some explain Ezekiel’s vision as a clairvoyant’s (or time-traveller’s) preview of modern – perhaps military – technology. Josef Blumrich (The Spaceships of Ezekiel (1974)) claims it describes a genuine extraterrestrial encounter of the kind reported in literature dedicated to phenomena like UFOs, ley lines and crop circles. 

Wednesday 2 October 2024

Diane Simmons, "William Prichard & Co"



Diane Simmons is a writer, editor and Co-Director of National Flash Fiction Day (UK). She has been widely published in magazines such as New Flash Fiction Review, Mslexia, Splonk and FlashBack Fiction and placed in numerous flash fiction and short story competitions. She is the author of four published novellas-in-flash: Finding a Way (Ad Hoc Fiction), An Inheritance (V. Press), A Tricky Dance (Alien Buddha Press) & William Prichard & Co (Arroyo Seco Press). You can read more about Diane on her website here, and connect with her on X/Twitter @scooterwriter.



About William Prichard & Co
William Prichard & Co is a novella-in-flash. The novella starts in 1886, and in 33 flash fictions, it follows 65 years of the Prichard family and its perambulator business, holding up a mirror to society and the changes in attitudes, industrial practices and politics, as the family move from the Victorian era to the 1950s.

You can read more about William Prichard & Co on Diane's website here. Below, you can read one of the flashes from the book. 


From William Prichard & Co, by Diane Simmons

Perfectly Put  

1891

‘You look magnificent, Bertram,’ William says when his son walks into the breakfast room.
Bertram bows, removes his cap and examines it. ‘That’s the school crest,’ he says, pointing to the badge on the front. He runs his fingers over the four blue ribbons that criss-cross over the cap. ‘I like these too.’

‘You’re a lucky boy – it’s a marvellous school. You must make sure you work hard – I will be relying on your brains when you’re old enough to join me in the perambulator factory.’

Bertram giggles and sits down at the table. He displays no signs of nerves for a boy about to start his first day at prep school and tucks into toast and scrambled egg with enthusiasm. He is an impressive child – so clever and self-assured. 

As William eats, he allows himself a momentary day dream and imagines an adult Bertram at the helm of the factory. Such a move would enable William to have more free time to pursue other interests such as politics. William Prichard M.P. would sound rather fine and it would be satisfying to help halt the rise of the blasted Liberals; factory owners like himself should not have to put up with constant government interference. His employees are paid well and have excellent working conditions; he hears no complaints.

His younger son calls out to him and William looks across at him and smiles. Hugh is an exceptionally good-natured child, a pleasure to be around. But he doesn’t have Bertram’s confidence or academic promise. It’s surprising – the operations he endured as a young child meant that he’s always received plenty of attention from the family.

‘When I’m big will I work in the factory?’ Hugh asks. 

‘No, no. It will be Bertram. It is always the eldest who follows their father into the family business.’

Hugh screws up his forehead. ‘But Clara is the biggest. It should be her.’

Bertram laughs and digs his little brother in the ribs. ‘Girls can’t do things like that, silly. They need to stay at home to look after the men and children.’

William lifts his son’s cap and ruffles his hair. For a seven-year-old, Bertram has such a grasp of things – William really couldn’t have put it better himself.