A Pipistrelle in Winter

The Pipistrelle is the smallest British Bat. It normally hibernates through the Winter.

Fly instead, should be feeling.
A wing, a dusk and stuttered dreaming,
compose, create, furred life complete
to demonstrate a fleeting sleep.

Suppose instead you stay once waked
Suppose preyed eye prick restless state
search only for each precious night
a moth, to dust, seeking light.

An iced filled window, leaded pane
a purple sky, stilled weather vane
a screaming moon, reflect frost shattered
uncooled blood prey, its silence tattered

Despite still flies, hard reason crushed
Beats still small heart and soft claw touched
fierce is hate, commend each beating
awakes its kind, cold hold is stealing.

a small delight, a single flame

a doom filled frost to season blame.

Contrast the night with darkened spire

of church, of faith, each speck entire

In dark winged fold, webbed belfry hold

accept embracing bright eyed cold.

This winter roars, the ice stick spike
rage red the hunt, still that it might
the ghost of all on leathered wing
crushed body of, this one small thing.

Author's Note

The photograph is mine and is called Winter Dreaming.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

a very good poem, that reminds me that Ted Hughes wrote a huge number of poems about animals , a classical subject for a poet, and Ken does his subject proud here. I like the good rhymes, the excellent syntax or scanning, the use of phrases. This is a real cracker, one of the best poems I have ever read from Ken - simply very,very good.

[Ken Simm.]

Aw shucks as they say across the pond. Crow is one of my favourite poems. Thank you Leslie

[Neville]

My word Ken, how such a wee thing would surely blush, if it ever got wind of the fact it featured so very large, anywhere, anywhere at all, let alone in print... An enchanting and otherwise engaging poem if ever there was.. and of course, very apt as both Halloween and winter approach... I love the wee things and find them quite fascinating... They are not daft either, are they.. who wouldn't crash for the winter if they had half a chance............ nice pic too.. Neville

[Ken Simm.]

Thank you Neville. As I said to Gene. This is about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[Neville]

I like to think it just fell asleep in the warm, with a full tummy...... Let's leave it like that shall we..ta.. Now where's m...........

[barleygirl]

This poem really scratches my macabre itch, which has been bugging me ever since we got a very early wave of cool autumn. I love the way you start out tiny, like the bat, and I'm thinking we're watching this little guy's antics. But about 1/3 of the way along, your writing becomes so much more expansive, much larger than the idea of this tiny creature, & we are swept into a different fantastical tangent for a bit. And this magnificent sweep touches down in tiny bat territory, here & there, just to remind us this poem is about the bat, after all *wink! wink!* I love the way you go to the extremes with your wording & your imagery. I'm getting primed to do a Halloween scribble soon! *yippee!* Fondly, Margie

[Ken Simm.]

You are right Margie, its not all about the little flittermouse .looking forward to your All Hallows piece. Thanks so much for this.

[Einstein Noodle]

classical lilting uplift of things small and thought insignificant .. i can't decide if the little guy braved winter and died ..or is nesting with kin and dreaming of the hunt ...
i live near Blanchard Springs Caverns which house thousands of bats and watching them in the evenings doing their acrobatic insect control is a real treat ... many bats in recent years have died because of white nose fungus ... starting in NY and now in 15-20 states :(
great pic sir! nice to read a sample of your more restrictive line, rhyme and rhythm ;) and again..love the language ..
E.

[Ken Simm.]

Thanks so much Gene. I'm glad you like it. I have Pippistrelles in my loft. They are still catching bugs now but will soon be off to beddy byes. The little guy was caught in winter and died. Its about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[Einstein Noodle]

:( Mother Nature can be a b***h eh!? wrong place wrong time very unforgiving .. poor little guy :( they don't hurt anyone do they

[Kelly Scheppers]

There is such pageantry in the rhyming of these lines. I've never been one to fancy a bat, but I must admit, I love how you brought this to its fruition. The photograph captivates the mood you've created...simply stirs the mind!

[Ken Simm.]

The little Flittermouse is lovely. I've got them in my loft. I'm glad you like one of my rare outings into proper poetry.

[Tony Jordan]

To think that the MOD were going to send such awesome little creatures en masse into Japan with flippin fire bombs attached.
Magical words Ken.

I hope you're okay mate
:)

[Marie Anzalone]

They are tough little things, aren't they? I used to work in wildlife rehabilitation- I loved working with bats. Handfeeding babies by slipping on a garden glove for their naked little forms to cling to while I droppered precious formula into little mouths. Watching adult flying foxes eat slices of melon in tiny gloved hands, neat and prim as a gentleman on a first date. We have a fungus wiping them out here in New England, and I really miss watching them wheeling at dusk and night. Your meter and rhyme and subject and construction are superb in this. Your words evoke the essence of these tiny creatures as much as they sit beautifully on the page and roll off the tongue. You make me think there is hope for naturalist writing yet. Would you mind if I shared this with a University professor who is looking for great naturalist literature and poetry?

[Ken Simm.]

I would be honoured if you did Marie. I can think of no greater compliment. I would like to suggest my Wings of a Gadwall as well if I may be so presumptious.
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Ken%20Simm/611046/

[Marie Anzalone]

absolutely!

[Tree]

Your meter and rhyme were superb. Every verse measured. I don't think you were following a particular form but it rolled forward naturally.Your attention to detail is as scrupulous here with the poem as it is with your visual art, and we can all take a lesson here. The other thing is how your A Pipistrelle in Winter made me feel. It elicited a deep, and achey loneliness in this reader. A feeling born of restlessness or disconnect, from ones own internal compass. In the end there was a palpable and beautiful sadness, for the Pipistrelle.

[Frieda P]

This is fierce in beautiful imagery Ken, I'd never think I'd read poetry about bats to be honest and be so enthralled by it. Lovely painting, you are one talented poet/artist! Love the notion of a screaming moon....

[Ken Simm.]

And you are too kind Frieda. I look forward to your reviews because you spoil me. I'm getting quite big headed now.

[Frieda P]

You're magical Ken, you deserve to float for a while, always my pleasure, you're a treasure to read....truly.

[Ken Simm.]

Can't get through the door now though. Good night dear freind and thank you once more.

[Frieda P]

Ha no worries the swelling goes down, sweet dreams :-)

[Ken Simm.]

Not when I have sweet dreams it doesn't. Whoops did I say that out loud?

[Jack...]

I don't which I like more, the poem or the photograph. The poem is genuine and fierce, commanding the readers mind to be attentive and learn as you go, the photograph is absolutely fabulous. The photograph is a poem in iteslf.

[Ken Simm.]

The photo seemed to fit. It was taken near where I live in NW England. I'm glad you like it Jack as I am the poem. Thank you so much. You can see other of my shots from the link on my profile page.

[Augustus]

I read this several times. It made several images flash in my mind but I haven't been able to form a coherent story out of it. On the surface, I like the imagery of winter contrasted with the fleeting heat and sparkle of life added by the pipistrelle and the moth. In terms of structure, I like the fact that you chose to write in couplets. Tetrameter is a good choice. And although the meter is imperfect in places, by and large it does not hamper the flow. Also, it is fine to have a bit of metrical imperfection to avoid imposing too many constraints on the phrasing. I like some of the rhymes, but not all. Personally, I avoid rhymes like "feeling/dreaming or beating/stealing" because I feel it only gives a semblance of rhyme without delivering the punch that pretty much defines the couplet form. Rhymes like "feeling/stealing" or "beating/heating" are nearer the mark. To be precise, I think the consonant preceding the suffix 'ing' should preferably be the same. Just my humble opinion. I'm no expert.

As Pete has pointed out, the fact that this scene is played out in the heart of winter when the little bat is supposed to be hibernating is indicative of allegory. I am probably way off in my assessment, but I'll give my thoughts anyway. My first impression is that the bat misses out on what life truly is, owing to its hibernation. If only it awoke, it would know what cold truly is, what hunger means, how exhilarating the chase can be and how the warmth of one life snuffed out can fuel another. At the mention of faith at the end, it also suggests a contrast between the calm acceptance of a certain state of affairs, taken purely upon faith, with the much more tempestuous journey that comes in the wake of experience and knowledge.

Overall, it is a very good poem, that is haunting in its imagery and thought provoking in its use of metaphors. Thank you! :)

[Ken Simm.]

I think the appropriatness of the word is defined by the words around it. As in this case I used stuttered dreaming to show that the bat was waking at an inappropriate time. Again in beating stealing the appropriate words I feel are used to convey what I wanted not what perhaps is strictly within the rules. In fact I would go further to suggest that the slavish following of the rule book is perhaps not what poetry is about. How can you say something personal if you are following rules. The metaphors here are really to show a life out of sync as you say but I chose to place it in such a strict tempo for the same reason. I agree that metrical imperfection, as you call it, is appropriate although I wouldn't use such a term. In fact I would ask why not? Does it hinder? Does it dilute? Does it take anything away from the message or metaphor I was trying to illustrate other than personally?
On the other hand your assessment of the main meat of the poem is not all that out. You are not way off beam The bat is awake from its stuttered dreaming, (this as I said I tried to convey as one concept) It should not be awake. The cold will kill it but it is feeling that a kill of its own, the destruction of something is essential for its continued survival. Your last line on the tempestuous journey coming in the wake of experience is spot on.
I'm glad you think it is thought provoking and I understand that if you are going to use a form you should follow the rules. I didn't. Thank you for taking the time to read so carefully.

[Augustus]

You're welcome Ken! :)