I AM LEARNING THE NAMES OF THE GRASSES
Matthew Paskins
I
sing of times trans-shifting, and I write
How roses first came red and lilies white.
How roses first came red and lilies white.
- Robert
Herrick, “The Argument of His Book”
One
thing that preoccupied me was the trainers’ habit of talking in highly anthropomorphic,
morally loaded language. This was the language I wanted
to understand because it seemed to me after a while that it was part of what
enabled the good trainers to do so much more than the academic psychologists
could in the way of eliciting interesting behavior from animals. Trainers, for
example, have no hesitation in talking about how much a mare loves or worries
about her foal, a cat her kitten or a dog or a horse their work. But for
philosophers and psychologists to speak of love was to invoke abilities that
are, for reasons I am still not clear about, as rigidly restricted to Homo sapiens as some religious doctrines
have restricted the possession of a soul to members of certain races, cultures
and sometimes genders.
- Vicki
Hearne, Adam’s Task: Calling Animals By
Name, p. 6.
Pan Svericus was assembled jointly by
Linnaeus and his students. It is a table correlating fodder plants and domestic
animals, and thus providing a guide of how to fatten these beasts. To assemble
this table, Linnaeus farmed out tasks to his students. Each young man was
assigned a test animal (cow, pig, goat, horse, sheep). Clutching goose quills,
scrap paper, and inkwells, the students tracked their animal subjects as they
foraged the meadows girdling Uppsala, freed from foot hobbles, snout irons,
chains and muzzles. Throughout the day the students wrote down the plant
species their animal subjects ate. Linnaeus’ students listed 836 species while
watching the botanic specimens disappear the moment they realized that they
needed to identify them.
- Lisbet Koerner, Linnaeus:
Nature and Nation, p. 49.
1.
I am learning the names of the grasses
under the sway of some history
about what unbridled cattle know
when they go browsing -
under the sway of some history
about what unbridled cattle know
when they go browsing -
my key an inexpert biro
rendering of stems, and leaves, and weighing seeds:
poa pratensis, rye-chord, purplish spikelets kissed
up from the meadow fescue --
rendering of stems, and leaves, and weighing seeds:
poa pratensis, rye-chord, purplish spikelets kissed
up from the meadow fescue --
and this is not Adam's task in Eden,
‘calling animals by name’,
but more like Zoe – Catherine's niece -
who's scared of grass, and retreats
‘calling animals by name’,
but more like Zoe – Catherine's niece -
who's scared of grass, and retreats
her hand any time it strays
past her picnic blanket
seat of safety and known bobbled weave
frowns – aghast – cannot believe
past her picnic blanket
seat of safety and known bobbled weave
frowns – aghast – cannot believe
that strange new spiking textured sea
ungrasped, out there, surrounding.
And who was lifted, so her cheek
might be brushed by some higher leaf
ungrasped, out there, surrounding.
And who was lifted, so her cheek
might be brushed by some higher leaf
befriended, almost, or brought home.
Names don’t touch textures into lives that way,
they hold lines in trans-shifting quiet.
There's no key without broken light.
Names don’t touch textures into lives that way,
they hold lines in trans-shifting quiet.
There's no key without broken light.
..whiting purple spikelets kiss up from
the meadow fescue ---
2.
Here comes the glitch (this will
sound weird. Don’t look away) -
sound weird. Don’t look away) -
While I pore over my mnemonic
scrawls
the Conscience of Grass chose today
the Conscience of Grass chose today
-that’s right, today - to float
their fury at the limits of our stories
their fury at the limits of our stories
about non-human agency – they
took matter and meaning into their own stems
shook leaves, dropped plums and catkins
started to gather near Wimpy’s, demanding
took matter and meaning into their own stems
shook leaves, dropped plums and catkins
started to gather near Wimpy’s, demanding
PLEASE, WHAT IS A BIG-TASTING
MILKSHAKE?
with a gravelly suck on the dregs of the drink
WHAT DOES IT MEAN HOW ABOUT CHIPS?
and somehow, astonishingly, they make
these questions without the aid of teeth, or lips
HOW WAS IT – don’t ask me – WHO ARE WE
AND WHY WOULD WE WANT A BROWN DERBY?
AND MUST WE LEARN YOUR NAMES, AS WELL,
with a gravelly suck on the dregs of the drink
WHAT DOES IT MEAN HOW ABOUT CHIPS?
and somehow, astonishingly, they make
these questions without the aid of teeth, or lips
HOW WAS IT – don’t ask me – WHO ARE WE
AND WHY WOULD WE WANT A BROWN DERBY?
AND MUST WE LEARN YOUR NAMES, AS WELL,
AND HOW TO TELL YOUR CHANGES AND
THE SEASONS OF YOUR FLOURISHING
THE SEASONS OF YOUR FLOURISHING
AND WHAT IT MEANT WHEN WITH A
SHELTERING HAND
YOU SWEPT YOUR MASS OF HAIR AWAY
AND ADVANCED INTO THE DARK?
(…whited, purpling spikelets kiss up from the meadow fescue---)
YOU SWEPT YOUR MASS OF HAIR AWAY
AND ADVANCED INTO THE DARK?
(…whited, purpling spikelets kiss up from the meadow fescue---)
3
IT IS NOT ABOUT SLOWNESS. YOUR
ROOTPLATE
CAN TIP UP-END IN AN INSTANT
TO A STRANGE WIND.
BRANCHES STORM-PITCHED, AMIDST LIMESTONE
LICHEN, BADGER-STRIPPED
BLACKCURRANT STEMS.
WHAT WOULD HAVE SPREAD AND SHADOWED MADE
ASPIRING, VERTICAL
FLUNG OFF FROM SHADE, OUTREACHING.
…Gorse, bracken, and the way down snouted
by the dog, our guide, with horse’s eyelashes, sheep’s fur.
The real sheep soot black and proud of their horn-curls,
sufficient stones to hop between and lichens
pale as icecream – so that it was obvious
to name them by flavours, pistachio, mango, lime julep
thick lichens died-back from abundant rain
like pastel-slag, powder-kelp. TREES ALSO
SNOWED WITH MELTLESS LICHEN.
Our more human
guide, who cradled her ear against deafness,
bellowed at us to sit on the rocks and feel their ley
lines. Which wouldn’t hum. Nothing in hill land
scape to direct the eye, over dog-snuffling level,
to order it, to clear its name. Sun and cloud moving
milked on the water, the Avon valley and the dam
direct below. THIS WAS DARTMOOR?
Yes. WHY NAME ITS ROCKS AND LICHENS SO?
When we returned to the yoga studio –--
WHAT IS IT? I’m sorry, I’ve got no grass-name --
we stretched and breathed into salutations,
child poses, both bliss and way into grief --
WHY ‘GRIEF’? Because you learn to frame
your sobs in tension. Because it’s hard to see it go.
Because grief’s decaying energy,
eating what it wants to know.
WHAT COULD HAVE SPREAD ACROSS THE BANK
CAN TIP UP-END IN AN INSTANT
TO A STRANGE WIND.
BRANCHES STORM-PITCHED, AMIDST LIMESTONE
LICHEN, BADGER-STRIPPED
BLACKCURRANT STEMS.
WHAT WOULD HAVE SPREAD AND SHADOWED MADE
ASPIRING, VERTICAL
FLUNG OFF FROM SHADE, OUTREACHING.
…Gorse, bracken, and the way down snouted
by the dog, our guide, with horse’s eyelashes, sheep’s fur.
The real sheep soot black and proud of their horn-curls,
sufficient stones to hop between and lichens
pale as icecream – so that it was obvious
to name them by flavours, pistachio, mango, lime julep
thick lichens died-back from abundant rain
like pastel-slag, powder-kelp. TREES ALSO
SNOWED WITH MELTLESS LICHEN.
Our more human
guide, who cradled her ear against deafness,
bellowed at us to sit on the rocks and feel their ley
lines. Which wouldn’t hum. Nothing in hill land
scape to direct the eye, over dog-snuffling level,
to order it, to clear its name. Sun and cloud moving
milked on the water, the Avon valley and the dam
direct below. THIS WAS DARTMOOR?
Yes. WHY NAME ITS ROCKS AND LICHENS SO?
When we returned to the yoga studio –--
WHAT IS IT? I’m sorry, I’ve got no grass-name --
we stretched and breathed into salutations,
child poses, both bliss and way into grief --
WHY ‘GRIEF’? Because you learn to frame
your sobs in tension. Because it’s hard to see it go.
Because grief’s decaying energy,
eating what it wants to know.
WHAT COULD HAVE SPREAD ACROSS THE BANK
LIT OUT INSTEAD TOWARDS THE SKY.
WHAT LOOKED WIND-RUINED HELD THE EARTH.
I know. You don’t have to tell me. Afterwards we said
we’d struggled with the silence, faced
what rose with trouble in that quiet place
-- and seen leaf-prints of lichens line
the dark: luminescent veins and patches
over patterned lime. Sustained, sufficing, there,
to catch attention which came free.
(…white, purple, spiking, kissing up from meadow fescue---)
WHAT LOOKED WIND-RUINED HELD THE EARTH.
I know. You don’t have to tell me. Afterwards we said
we’d struggled with the silence, faced
what rose with trouble in that quiet place
-- and seen leaf-prints of lichens line
the dark: luminescent veins and patches
over patterned lime. Sustained, sufficing, there,
to catch attention which came free.
(…white, purple, spiking, kissing up from meadow fescue---)
4.
And if our names contained
that catch of vision
that would be a bright key.
And I was sure, last time it rained,
through my misprision
the waters had found me.
Likening to grass and lichen, here,
in lines which only doodle them:
when they can read my title clear
in mansions of the runnelled earth
light and leaf and seed and stem
will wipe my tears away.
While grasses say, sway, say, sway, sway,
the line falters but transcribes the day.
that catch of vision
that would be a bright key.
And I was sure, last time it rained,
through my misprision
the waters had found me.
Likening to grass and lichen, here,
in lines which only doodle them:
when they can read my title clear
in mansions of the runnelled earth
light and leaf and seed and stem
will wipe my tears away.
While grasses say, sway, say, sway, sway,
the line falters but transcribes the day.
Notes.
Section One
My source for the grass doodles was the Collins Flower Guide.
‘Adam’s task in Eden’: Genesis 2:20, “The man gave names to all cattle, and to the birds of the sky, and to every beast of the field.’ The term ‘Adam’s task’ alludes to Vicki Hearne’s book, cited above. Hearne’s argument is that naming – especially of domesticated animals - is implicated in our living relationships with them, and overlaps with the possibility of command, and that this is a way of respecting their capabilities.
Zoe is fifteen months old. She really was quite scared of grass though she got over it.
Section Two
The Conscience of Grass also has responsibility for plum-trees, apparently.
Brown Derby, Big-Tasting Milkshakes and How About Chips are all phrases drawn from Wimpy (UK)’s most recent advertising campaigns.
Line 22 (very loosely) adapts Eugenio Montale’s lines from the end of La Bufera: ‘Come quando/ti rivolgesti a me e con la mano, sgombra la/fronte dalla nube dei capelli,/mi salutati – per entrar nel buio’.
CAPITALISATION indicates that the grass is speaking. This remains so throughout the rest of the poem.
Section Three
The scene here is a Yoga retreat in Dartmoor, just outside Totness, early September 2012.
The scene here is a Yoga retreat in Dartmoor, just outside Totness, early September 2012.
Section Four
This section alludes to Isaac Watts’ hymn “when I can read my title clear”, which opens: “When I can read my title clear/To mansions in the skies,/I’ll bid farewell to every fear,/And wipe my weeping eyes.”
