This is Throwback Thursday #324. In these, we look back into the past at ESCONI specifically and Earth Science in general. If you have any contributions, (science, pictures, stories, etc …), please send them to esconi.info@gmail.com. Thanks! email:esconi.info@gmail.com.

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We have nothing but respect for cephalopods in ESCONI, but this is a rather odd poem called “Cephalopodosis” from B. J. Babbitt. This poem appeared in the June 1950 edition of the ESCONI newsletter. Babbitt was the editor of the newsletter at the time. And, he remained editor for ESCONI’s first three years.

The only photo I can find of B.J. Babbitt and his wife “M” is of them bidding in a silent auction in 1950.

CEPHALOPODOSIS

1.
Oh Ceph’lopod, Oh Ceph’lopod,
Come share my home with me
This afternoon my pickeroon
Has changed your destiny!
I’ll wash you free of this debris,
Bring out your wondrous self,
Your curves will grace my crystal case
First on the honor shelf.

2.
I cleaned, I scrubbed, I picked and rubbed
Its crystalline body shone,
With bits of moss like silken floss,
The Pod assumed its throne!
“Oh Nautilus! My Nautilus”
In reverie mused I,
“Your treasured ghost I treasure most!
I’ll love you till I die!”

3.
I viewed the prize thru dreamy eyes,
With visions vague and blurred,
Faint aura filled the air bestilled
Egad! It moved! It stirred!
Agatized coils in agonized toils,
A pupa working clear
Of its chrysallis case.
I bowed my face In awe to see – to hear –

4.
“My destiny has changed today?” –
The voice came from the elf
“No more, you say, I’m common clay?
I’m on the honor shelf?”
I gulped and gasped, my breathing rasped, “
What goes?” I fain would ask,
But didn’t dare for fear
I’d scare The voice back in its mask.

5.
“A Ceph’lopod, hand work of God,
As happy as could be,
Jingled, jangled, never wrangled,
Beneath the freshish sea;
Came weary days of swings and sways,
Of weaving to and fro –
I’ll catch some winks; henceforth methinks
I’ll take it rather slow.”

6.
His sleep was deep, too deep to keep
A rendezvous next day
He could not last, his day was past,
He turned to common clay.
Then one by one, through rain and sun
Each tiny molecule
Made replica with Silica
By pseudomorphic rule.

7.
Proud conqueror of sea and air
From peaks to shaky fens
You abduct me with wistful glee
Lord Homo Sapiens
“Be permanent” is your intent,
To reign forever more!
The dinosaurs tyranosaurs –
They sought that goal before.

8,
So thru the pages of the ages
Each genus, now mere rock,
Was king for a day, then withered away,
By the geologic clock.
That great invention, Fourth Dimension
Your cycle will define;
Time’s changeless change so soon will change
Your destiny, not mine!”

— B.J. Babbitt