Collective Nouns

We love these words that describe a group of things, almost always animals and birds.
Not content with "herd" or "flock" we have
a charm of goldfinches
a cackle of hyenas
a gaze of raccoons
a murmuration of starlings
a parliament of owls

also

a superfluity of nuns
a bench of bishops
a pomposity of professors

Wikipedia has a terrific list
but
Patrick McManus in "The Grasshopper Trap" also suggests
a chatter or chill of ice-fishermen
an exuberance of fishermen
but a sulk of unsuccessful fishermen
a boast of hunters
a berserk of kid campers
a cramp of camp cooks
a panic of anglers

from "Island of the Sequined Love Nun" by Christopher Moore
we find
a maggotry of reporters

and "The Gun Seller" by Hugh Laurie calls it
a neck of body guards

(those are Amy Winehouse's bodyguards)

"I'm glad you kept your manners in a place of so much villainy"
..."ay, I'm a rescue in progress"

from Fool, by Christopher Moore

Now I think of it, a better picture would be this

(America is still reeling from the villainy of its bankers)

The Years of Man are the Looms of God

The years of man are the looms of God, let down from the place of the sun,

Wherein we all are weaving, till the mystic web is done,
Weaving blindly but weaving surely, each for himself his fate;
We may not see how the right side looks, we can only weave and wait.

Lesson for the New Year

 

Once I  locked myself

in a broken-down blue refrigerator we had stored in the cellar:

clasp hinges rust-crusted,

wobbly ineffectual handle, chrome on blue enamel.

I crowded myself

between tiny tin icebox and tiny crisper

after taking out both tiny shelves

and stacking them neatly against the fridge’s empty back,

and I slammed the door shut on me

by shoving it open hard

so that it bounced back, sealed,

when it hit its hinge-limit.

Then it had nothing in it but me and dead air

and I played by myself in the dark with its echoes

till my backside started to ache

and, trying to move,

I realized there was no getting out.

Then I quit singing and pretending to hide.

When I shoved on the door in my panic

one of the hinges broke;

though the latch was still caught

one corner of the door hung apart

and I put my mouth to the hole

and yelled for my mother till I was hoarse.

So I didn’t suffocate after all.

How foolish we are—

we, playing in the dark—

to think there are two second chances.

By Julie Juchau, Ensign, Jan. 1975, inside front cover

Awash

I have the grace of a wave—

I’m constantly tumbling over myself

Dotty Drake

Himno Cotidiano (A Daily Hymn) Gabriela Mistral

On this new day                                     

Thou givest me,

Oh Lord                  

Give me my portion of happiness               

And help me to improve.

Give me the gifts of health,              

faith, ardour and audacity;                

the companions of youth;                          

and the harvest of truth,           

reflection and wisdom;                        

the companions of old age.

Happy am I, if at the end of the day,       

I carry with me one enmity less.           

If my steps are guided by one light more,

and I have overcome one more error in my ways.

And if, for my rudeness,                                

no one has shed a tear,                                   

and if, someone was happy          

because of a kindness I showed them.

(segment) by Gabriela Mistral,  Chilean poet.

(my translation)

En este nuevo día
que me concedes, ¡oh, Señor!
dame mi parte de alegría
y haz que consiga ser mejor.

Dame tú el don de la salud,
la fe, el ardor, la intrepidez,
séquito de la juventud;
y la cosecha de verdad,
la reflexión, la sensatez,
séquito de la ancianidad.

Dichoso yo, si al fin del día,
un odio menos llevo en mí;
si una luz más mis pasos guía
y si un error más yo extinguí.

Y si por la rudeza mía
nadie sus lágrimas vertió,
y si alguien tuvo la alegría
que mi ternura le ofreció.

(segmento) por Gabriela Mistral, poeta chilena

It ought to plain

How little you gain

By getting excited and vexed

You’ll always be late

For the previous train

And always in time for the next