Skip to main content

A new jawbone



Judges 16



What someone can do
with something new
can surprise

your eyes open wide
here by your side
you find what’s required

to tackle the task
no need to ask
for much help

just put out your hand
seize the moment and
nothing can stop you

armed with a jawbone
you slew on your own
a thousand men.

                                                           
Who’d have thought that the jaw
of one herbivore
had such power?



Well, it wasn’t any old jaw bone – it was a new one.  I’m not sure how important it was that it happened to be one of an ass, but the narrated story – minimal as it is in other respects – provides us with that particular detail.

‘Found’ is interesting too.  Was he looking – searching for a weapon – or did he just come across that fresh mandible lying in the grass?

And the putting forth of his hand, with its suggestion of a conscious and determined action, after a moment – perhaps even a longer time – of reflection, raises many a question.  Almost thousands.

In short, this short Old Testament sentence is packed with drama while punctuated by absent essentials, not to mention details, exaggerated assertions – along with questions.   

So here we find ourselves, now well into a new year, a new month, indeed a new era, with a new jawbone.   I find it hard to believe (to coin a phrase) that, until recently at least, people – most people, everybody? – believed all that was written in the bible. What an incredible story!

My poem had to conclude with a question. 
As for the underlying question as to what this whole crazy episode means, I can’t help but feel that notwithstanding the massive carnage about which nobody seems much bothered there are some wonderful messages.  For a start, you may surprise yourself as to what you can achieve on your own. And what’s needed may be close at hand, in unexpected form and far more effective than you might have predicted.

With that ultra-succinct description from the bible, my poem had to be short, straight forward and attempt to emulate the curiously matter of fact tone (even if the facts strain credulity).  Of course, there were consequences – but that, as they say, is another story.  I hint at one of these as I see Samson’s wide-open eyes…

But returning to where we started, with the notorious jaw bone, I’m reminded of Churchill (that master of words) and his famous rhyme about jaw and war.  Might it just be that the true power of the jaw is in what it enables: words are our most powerful weapon – even if this one was from an ass?



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rake Daddy Rake

  As with lots of good stories, there are many versions. Basically this one's about a pair of Wiltshire yokels raking a pond for kegs of smuggled brandy.  They feigned lunacy when surprised by the excise men, saying that they were trying to rake out the full moon which was reflected in the water.  Their ruse was successful. The officials had no trouble in deciding they were lunatics, so left them to their raking. Interestingly, the Lunacy Act of 1842 defined a lunatic as someone ‘afflicted with a period of fatuity in the period following a full moon’. I suppose any time falls into the category of a 'period following a full moon'.  As for fatuity, that might include all of us on certain occasions, not least since it's not stated how long 'a period' is.  Perhaps then we're all occasionally lunatic... Be all that as it may, on this occasion the lunatics (I've put inverted commas round the word and taken them out several times) outwitted the sober and sane, ...

A Concatenation of Catchwords

    My daughter’s cat has captivated her family. Even I – being more of a dog person (Timmy our Jack Russell hates cats) – found myself admiring his grace and beauty, and all those skills a cat deploys and enjoys.  Thinking about their cat, I realised how many words contain 'cat'; so it was that this poem took shape. Predictably, I then thought I should write a dog poem. I didn’t actually get very far, having identified only a few dog words: after dogma/dogmatic, dogged, lying doggo and Venetian doges I began to run out. So the dog poem had to wait, its tongue hanging out. But having just gone to my (big) dictionary and found a long list of dog words and phrases, ranging from a certain Shakespearian Dogberry through dog collars, dog days and dog-eared to a dog’s dinner, the Dogstar and dogwatch, I now feel like telling Timmy something can be found to be thrown, and he can wag his tail – even chase a cat.    A Concatenation of Catchwords   Where ...

Bear Necessities

  Coming back to an old work place can be startling, especially if it's been abandoned. Abandoned not just by you, but by those who might have followed. Forsaken for good, even if circumstances had made it impossible to continue. It might not help much to remind oneself that part of the reason for all this was that the work was inefficient, clumsy and had become outmoded. Maybe worst of all would be to find amongst the ruins and abandonment an entirely inappropriate new clueless set of incumbents who could never have understood how hard we'd tried? But perhaps after all, that might be consoling. A comforting realisation that all has not been wasted, that new uses have been found for what we've left behind – in short, that life goes on. We hope. The Forecaster   This was where we lived and worked – a weather station way up north – Wrangel Island, to be precise Kolyuchin – north of Chukotka.   We made observations, carefully measured the various meteorolo...