Remnants
I imagine
walking here, dimly-lit
revenant:
The cave bear
came to rest here
many moons ago;
millennia, in fact
during the ‘Last Glacial Maximum’
which we once-upon-a-time
far too poetically called
‘The Ice Age.’
Fragments
of the cave-bear jaw
found lying on the cave-floor
which might have been fashioned into a flute
although
possibly not:
I hear that strange and subtle music
of the kind
that carries through the centuries,
millennia even;
from the last Ice Age, or
The Last Glacial Maximum:
Neanderthals
did not survive it, and
I’m haunted by their almost-song:
Who will hear ours, once we are all gone?
© Experimentsinfiction 2020, All Rights Reserved
About this poem
I have written this poem in response to Earthweal’s weekly challenge. This week, Brendan asked us to imagine a haunted wilderness. I took inspiration from a recent visit to Potočka zijalka cave, in which bones of the now-extinct cave bear were found. One fragment of bear jaw had been pierced by 3 holes, which may or may not have been man-made, a kind of rudimentary flute made by the ancestors of modern humans.
A similar bone flute has been found in Divje Babe cave in Northwestern Slovenia, but this, in contrast, was likely to have been fashioned by Neanderthals. If the flute is a genuine artefact, this would prove that Neanderthals were capable of making and appreciating music. Unlike the makers of the Potočka zijalka flute, the Neanderthals (and the cave bear) did not survive the last Ice Age.
I tried to imagine the ancient music of our ancestors resonating through the chamber of the cave, and was haunted by the idea of that long-lost song. Now we as a species face an existential threat, as Neanderthals did tens of millennia ago. Who will hear our music once we are gone? Will we leave behind a haunted wilderness, when there is no one left to haunt?
Nice poetry
Thank you!
Superbly imaginative interpretation of the prompt Ingrid… and adored your follow-up story…and these two lines stirred my warped imagination…
” I’m haunted by their almost-song:
Who will hear ours, once we are all gone?”
… There’s no need to worry Ingrid, the ‘Great White Man’ has found the “Cure”…. wow we are saved, thanks to the great white chocolate Jesus….
The Great White Chocolate Jesus
I’m awake and alive
It’s time to leave this hollow beehive
I’ve been stung and I’m screaming
I found the CURE, and I’m beaming
Believe me. It’s worked
My arrogant mind smirked
That Dettol’s a great liqueur
A real miracle CURE
Before I went to bed
I did what the great white man said
And smothered my daytime fears
Even lathered behind my ears
A dabble on my nose
But couldn’t reach my toes
Slept like a white chocolate Jesus
Dreamt I was the great white bio-genius
And I awoke CURED from yesterday
Fit and eager for my next isolation day
Oh that’s fantastic, Ivor: is that one of yours?
Yes Ingrid, and I’ve just placed it in my manuscript… Yeah..😀
Brilliant – and timely! Have you a book coming out?
Yes.. I’m doing a manuscript for a book of my poems, hopefully to be published by ‘Fae Corps Publishing’, maybe January 2021.. here’s a list of my Chapters, that forms the backbone of my book..
“Tullawalla. A Meeting Place”
Chapter 1.
Nature, Trees, and the Air We Breathe
Chapter 2.
My Empty Hands Are Full, Of Memories and Rhymes
Chapter 3.
Dragons, Wizards, Faeries, and a Space Craft
Chapter 4.
Humour, Wit, Sarcasm, and Christmas Stories
Chapter 5.
Observations, The Sound of Silence
Chapter 6.
Travel. Air, Land, and Sea
Chapter 7.
The Family Tree and Dream-time Stories
Chapter 8.
Haiku’s and the Leftover Champagne
Chapter 9.
Not Horror, But Weird
Chapter 10.
Beyond the Blue Horizon
Wow, thank you for sharing this with me. Do keep me up to date with your progress. I’ve got the idea for two manuscripts myself but haven’t put them together properly yet 😅 do you mind my asking how many poems altogether you are including in yours? I can’t decide if I’m creating chapbooks or full-blown poetry collections!
I originally picked 150, but I knew that would be far too many.. I’ve been gradually reducing the number, to get to about 100… plus I have 12 Haiku’s… so basically 10 per Chapter, but under or over…
I’m not really sure myself, … I follow basic poetry submission guideline…. ‘New Times Roman Font’… size ’12’….. and printed in single line spacing … with no margin to left-side..
Maybe I could send you a PDF copy of some Chapters I’ve drafted… through your ‘Submission’ site/page….
That would be really helpful if you don’t mind! For sure I’ll buy a copy when it comes out 😊
Wow ..you’re in luck Ingrid … I’ve done a First (rough) draft of 8 Chapters so far.. I’ll convert into a PDF in a minute and send via your submission page…. and of course I don’t mind… Here I’m about to publish my ‘First’ book at nearly 70 yrs old, and it’s lovely to help somebody out Ingrid.. 😀😊
” Where Is Love?”
Behind every word
There is a thought
Between every thought
There is an emotion
Underneath the emotion
There is a heartbeat
Below the heartbeat
There is a soul
Within the soul
There lives love
Beautiful, Ivor! Thanks so much… I look forward to receiving that and great news: life begins at 70, huh?
I’m moving over to your site now…
I’ve sent it through via your contact email..
Thanks I’ll have a look when I’m at home 👍
You have, with your words and that beautiful poem, left a haunting reminder about the past, and the future. Thank you.
Thank you for reading, Carolyn!
Great poem Ingrid!
Thank you Hobbo!
Music is something that evokes entire worlds, and just the thought of the ancient notes as remnants of the lost past is haunting. Many places retain layers of their former residents and I think your cave is one of them. (K)
What a great find of history artfully delivered. I can feel the echos of the cave. You have such a way with words!!! And YAY my response is going through. It’s the little things that matter most!!! ❤️🤗
Thanks for your kind words and great that you can comment again 🥰
You are most welcome!!! Me too!❤️ It only took all day and a few more gray hairs but who’s counting 🤣 ❤️XO
Werner Herzog in his movie about the Chauvet cave said the paintings found there beamed back across “the abyss of time,” and that is the bone flute music I hear here. When we are gone, it may be millions of years before any sentient life develops or arrives to read our vastly ancient signatures. Like disturbing the dust on the moon. Great haunting here and wonderful response to the challenge.
Thank you, Brendan. I’ve seen that documentary ‘Cave of Forgotten Dreams.’ It was a long time ago but probably this set the idea off in my mind.
I’m a little Ne-an-derthal
Playing with my flute
I can play Jack/Jill/up hill
Play it well, you beaut
Didn’t know Neans wrote J&J did ya Ingrid?….
Flutes were already around…..
Maybe I should write a book of rhymes to set the record straight?….
You learn something new every day!
I’ll see what Poet Don can dig up…..