Friday, June 29, 2007

English Heritage's monorail on Silbury Hill: June 2007

One eye on your career

You said you'd be our champion, a power to our cause
To stand like stones, upright and still, an influential force
Yet when we asked, our hands outstretched, your sense of duty failed
You turned your back, ignored our pleas, our trust in you derailed

You promised us your guardianship, is this how a guard behaves?
Can't you feel ten thousand corpses turning in their graves?
No passion in your governorship, a task but nothing more
Then ditch the burden as your predecessor did before

Oh, to see each promise kept, not cast aside with fear
No 'popular decisions' with one eye on your career
Just sense and sensitivity for all that could be lost
Preserving England's heritage, no matter what the cost


Saturday, June 16, 2007

English Heritage's Silbury Hill 'Conservation' Project: May 2007

The New Seven Wonders?

The New Seven Wonders?
But EH's blunders
Will drive a big road through them all
Put some tat in the mound
Don't disclose what we found
Stick a campsite in Durrington Walls

If the doorway's too narrow
We'll widen the barrow
To let wheelchairs get inside West Kennet
And Avebury's ditch oughtta
Be filled up with water
We'll ignore when you shout "Gordon Bennet!"

Seven Wonders? That many?
We don't think we've got any
That haven't been paved and restored
With EH's protection
And metal detection
There's so little to add to the hoard

Could we settle for two?
Silbury, Avebury too
Maybe Stonehenge if we can agree
On the council decision
Of a two-mile incision
To bury the A303

Stanton Drew-Vegas weddings
Slaughter Stone fake beheadings
And souvenir shops full of bones
And the rich men in hearses
Can park near the Cursus
And bury their dead at the stones

So it's Wessex-orama
A crisis, no drama
A Wonderworld built on the plain
Where the visitors enter
The visitors' centre
And see everything from a train


Newgrange: County Meath, Ireland

The pattern

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older

The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated

Of dead and living. Not the intense moment

Isolated, with no before and after,

But a lifetime burning in every moment

And not the lifetime of one man only

But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.

T S Eliot