extract from (untitled) Long Poem  

Thursday, March 25, 2010

His floating workshop; a place he remembers
times past.
The wind up bird
her mechanical wings
laden with words. She'll knock you
for six
she'll blow you away.
Quietly squeal queer bird,
her mechanical wings
and words pirouette
like feathers
or hard rain.
Chained to a tether she only
makes whirring circles
and bounces like
the sound
of a moth inside
a lampshade.
His bird was flown some
time ago.
Left behind no
scattered seeds.

Hiding in shaded gardens where
she tends
to her rich fantasies
and in grand houses
where she hides things under carpets
and worries about dust.

Her dissembled sentences rolling too quickly from the lips,
His arms; the archipelago of oil floating on skin.
Her fingers tacking side to side across his back;
His shoulders tensing, rippling under her touches.
Her consonants crashing against vowels, fricatives spraying
His face with its crags and boulders.

“I can't have children.”

Rowing out to an island,
clinging to a rock.
Words bend truth like
waves bend wood
into a thousand pieces
each with a story to tell.
A ghost ship,
a kraken.
a thunderstorm,
a night of a thousand fish.
The night she slipped away from him
and his lonely hours by the radio

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extract from (untitled) Long Poem  

Monday, March 22, 2010

Woke up; found my love gone.
Left in its place words
falling from the seams.
Many's the night I've walked this
land. I was trying to remember.
It felt like my mind
was being cast
to sea. Tiny
bits of brain nibbled
by phosphorescence. Are they
the darkness or
is it
Like the sunken
shell of integrity I
sit and wait.
I rise
with the tide.
This means I have to fall.
There were stains on the carpet where
He'd dropped his consonants.
All achin', shakin' and breakin'.
His hollow cheeks gulping down
apologies. Tired lies
and vinegar flies
carve mermaids on his eyes,
which look to the sky.
He said he knew science;
told me
'how you get pairs
of stars that pull
into orbit
forever unable to touch
or part
' *
like how grains of sand
won't just dissolve into water.
Some words I collect
I have stars in my heart.

This is some of the work I am considering putting to music when I do my performance piece. I'm hoping to collaborate with Kath A Bit OF Cello Williams.
* From 'Years Later' by Lavinia Greenlaw

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Me, Universe and You...  

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Wind writes in foam on sea
halliards crew
unscathed leagues under ocean.

Lichen likes rocks
who care to remember a name carved in fathoms
when love is a vapour.
Pebbles are worn to reveal your image
and the rhyme of tides
echo across the archipelago of galaxies.

Galaxies are everything from nothing
bursting from seeds of matter.
Raging energy
brings it all to existence.
Gravity's relentless lure
opening a vortex,
stealing light,
hiding energy,
stowing orbits.

In the ebb and flow
the binary of light
and dark
you are like the universe;

you are made from me
and I am made from you.

This poem was used as a basis for a more complicated project I wanted to produce. Below is a link to my video, which takes my reading of the poem, and uses sounds made within it to make an ambient soundscape. Behind this lies the message that words are everywhere to be found, and poetry can be pushed in many directions other than reading it straight from the page...

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