Are Moths the New Seagulls

I don't know..tell you what...you hang in there, k!? ;) There's nothing worse than a neighbour with crap wind chimes

Perhaps because gulls are somewhat on par with rats and other pesky creatures, they've fallen out of favour. Moths are a lot more benign, and don't shit all over your car (or head) whilst at the seaside!

I've a vague memory of moths in some Thomas Hardy's poems / 'The Return of the Native' so they don't feel "moths are the new black-ish". Personally, I am totally terrified of moths - not the little clothes ones (though I still squish these against the walls of the bedroom with very unBuddhist glee), but those slow powder-flappy ones that........ eueueu......... I can't even write about them. Actually seagulls are also rather disarming (though I don't run away from them as much) since, as I was reminded on a recent trip to the seaside, they are the size of DOGS! One was flying around with what I thought was a dog-poo in its mouth (because of the gull-dog connection in my mind). It was actually a massive sausage.

"some OF TH's poems" I meant. Not a typo, just a late-o, should be in bed-o.

Moths may not shit on your head, but they DO behave like suicide bombers by continually trying to smash my windscreen.

What we really need is a poem about a moth fluttering in the fog as a sea gull cries in the distance. Fog, that's where it at. "You don't need the light of the Lord to read the handwriting on the wall." Copies of Warsaw Tales available through www.new-ink.org

Fog at dusk.....

Moths are pretty prevalent in haiku, I seem to remember. Not wanting to pour cold water on your nascent theory, Jude, but you, Fish and 'a friend' hardly constitute a leading triumvirate of the modern poetic canon - even if the anonymous third party were Andrew Motion! I think if you turned your attention outward a bit, you'd see that lots of poets are writing about lots of different things besides moths, gulls, or those thrice-blasted plovers.

Anyone know any good gannet-related poems? ~PEPS~ “There is no spoon.”

Seagulls and moths have some things in common. Living by the seaside, as I do, the gulls sit on my bedroom windowsill and hurl themselves at the windows. This is somewhat alarming - especially at 5 in the morning. Unfortunately, unlike moths, they sometimes suceed in their frenzied mission and do smash the glass. Bloody huge things they are too. We get out of the room quick and then I sneak back in, dressing gown over my head and try and shoo the somewhat bewildered and much shitting bird out of the now broken window. It's happened eight times now in the past 20 years. Our cats catch moths and eat them - the male once tried it on a seagull. He leapt on the thing's back, but the seagull just turned and smashed him in the head with its beak. Cat went to vet, seagull was seemingly unperturbed. They don't seem very poetic to me.

I don't think either seagulls or moths are notably prevalent, but they *are* one of many things that will come up repeatedly because they have rich associations with the kind of things poets like to dwell on. Seagulls - whiteness, the sky, shoreline (a very potent emotional landscape), cries, loneliness, salty air, scavenging, the sea. Moths - death, delicacy, night, lights, circling, being drawn to a flame, fluttering (like eyelashes or trembling lips might), softness, the moon. Other things poets love to mention - foxes, cats, children, hawks, eyes, rain, various flowers, breasts, swallows, martins, butterflies, blackbirds, swans, sycamores, windows, horses, stars, old ladies and for some reason, Sanskrit. Far less frequently - ducks, nightjars, Skodas, bootcuts, pangolins, Gorki's Zygotic Mynci, one-legged pigeons, spoons, vampires, hoodies and cheesewire and so on and so forth. I've used moths quite a lot, partly because I like the word and I think they're pretty cool insects. Don't like gulls as much, for similar reasons to Tony - they're huge, cruel-looking, nasty things up close, and some species are seriously vicious. If you set raptors on them, the gulls would win. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

i think skodas should be mentioned more often ...

Basque is the only language in the world that has no link to any other language.

what really gets me ... still ... is the use of the word 'soul' (in english)

I think actually *using* Sanskrit would be a lot more interesting than mentioning it. The problem is that when the word 'Sanskrit' is used, I often feel like Monsieur or Madame Poet is trying to make me reflect on the ancient roots of language in the cheapest way possible. Kind of like a war poem that urges me to think of murdered children. 'Soul' is incredibly hard to get away with, but at least it's a surefire way to identify a beginner, in most cases. It's more frustrating when you feel something is lame but you can't put your finger on why that is - because, let's face it, charges of pretentiousness, meaninglessness, so-what-edness and dullness are hard to make stick in a medium that is all these things to most people anyway. ~ I'll Show You Tyrants * Fuselit * The Prowl Log * Woe's Woe

I do not think moths are the new seagulls. But I'd like to see them take each other on in a fight.

Oh, and I have made it a mission in life to not read anything with the word 'butterfly' in the title. Joey

I was sitting here at the computer very hungover and trembly, and something kept catching the corner of my eye (figuratively speaking). I thought I had the DTs as whenever I looked there was nothing there. THEN SUDDENLY! the largest moth ever known to man flew in front of my face, I did that little girly thing of going Wah! It was the size of a small bat. All the windows and door were closed where did it come from? I opened the door and it flew out. God it frightened me.