Category Archives: Epic

Epic poetry. The Parliament of Poets, by Frederick Glaysher

Paternal Haplogroup R1b1b2a1a2

Altamira Cave, Spain

Paternal Haplogroup: R1b1b2a1a2

In 2010 my oldest son had his genome DNA tested showing the
Paternal Haplogroup reaches back to Gascony in Southern France and the Basque Region of Spain, as far back as  20,000 BCE, the time of the paintings in the Lascaux and Altamira caves. According to 23andMe.com, “R1b1b2a1a2 is found in the Y chromosome, a sex chromosome found only in males. It is passed from father to son.”

The surprising thing about our genome to me was that I have all my life been fascinated by the ancient cave paintings in Lascaux, have read everything I’ve ever happened upon about them. I can remember in the early ’70s, in a humanities class, viewing and discussing a movie about the caves. For most of my life, to my mind, the human time scale they represent especially served as a reminder of the longevity of humanity on this planet. They naturally became a part of an epic poem I’m writing, The Parliament of Poets, with my writing about Lauscaux nearly two years ago. All the more astonishing to me to discover there’s a marker in my genes going back to the Basque region.

I’ve usually identified most with my English heritage, though I’ve always known of several other strands of genealogy, some back into the early 1700s, German, French, Irish, and Croatian.

Over 20,000 years is so incredible of a time scale that any mention of genealogy becomes absurd. The only rational conclusion is that I’m a human being.

Maternal Haplogroup T2f1

Frederick Glaysher

4 Comments

Filed under Epic

Borges. Moon Mirror. Mirror Moon.

Earth, Africa, Apollo 11

Borges. Moon Mirror. Mirror Moon.

On the pampas. Buenos Aires. “O Poet of the Moon!” Under the Southern Cross, bitter juntas of the soul.

And so I find myself standing before what I’ve thought of for decades but have not been able to confront, write about. Thinking of it, year after year. An omnipresent obstacle, challenge, too hot to handle, stepping around it, sensing always its presence, why me, why me, who assigned this to me? A choice, an answer to a call, by default, delegation, destiny, long refused, evaded, a sense of futility overwhelming, filling me with a loathing for its very terms, find another scapegoat….

Mirror moon draws me in, and I cannot refuse to go, on to another continent… time come… its arduous demands, relentless, sacrifice of self, safety and content, all past, receding, far away now…

Frederick Glaysher

Leave a Comment

Filed under Epic

Passage to the Americas.

Passage to the Americas

Passage from India. Passage to the Americas. Walt captains the Persona back from the “streams of the Indus and the Ganges.” “Circumnavigation.” Pacific blue.

I had not intended it. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. It was a discovery of the writing itself. The journey was so arduous I had wanted to end it in India, go back to the moon… “have done, have done, with every vain, dinning complexity.” I might have thought of it a few times, but always dismissed it, couldn’t see a way through South America.

And then I stood on the pachisi courtyard. Alone. Believing it was time to return to the moon.

Borges opened the door, showed me the way, my reading of him, forty years ago, overwhelmed me to my utter amazement. The structure through the struggle. Neruda’s “The Heights of Machu Picchu,” Octavio Paz, Archibald MacLeish’s “Conquistador.”

Mayans, Aztecs, Incans. Argentina’s “disappeared.” Borges, through a mirror…

Frederick Glaysher

Leave a Comment

Filed under Epic

Emperor Akbar. Fatehpur Sikri.

Emperor Akbar. Fatehpur Sikri.

Emperor Akbar. Fatehpur Sikri.

Emperor Akbar. Fatehpur Sikri.

January 26, 2010

The Mughal emperor’s Pachisi Courtyard. In front of the Ibadat Khana, House of Worship.

Akbar’s court poets Faizi and Urfi receive the Persona. Rabindranath Tagore, Amir Khosrow, Kabir, Bulleh Shah, Lalan, and Sarmad, the wild Persian-Jewish convert to Sufism, dressed like a Jain. The mystics and Sufis of India mix and consult. Vyasa, Valmiki, and Tulsidas look on. Persuaded by Tagore, given the trials of the time, Rahman Baba, an Afgani Pashtun, comes down from his mountain village to confer with the poet from the moon. Satya Pir, Dihlawi, Fani Kashmiri, Brahman, Panapati. Evoking the majesty of human history, Lord Alfred Tennyson extols Akbar’s dream.

The many oceans mingle. The dancing girls on the Pachisi Courtyard.

Frederick Glaysher

2 Comments

Filed under Epic