27.12.11

dread of

Here's a draft of a short new poem, dread of, written about a week ago. It comes out of talking about dread in dub music/ culture/ poetics and the experience of other: here as depth, mass, base (or bass) presence.
Reading Maggie O'Sullivan, Kamau Brathwaite, e e cummings, Paul Celan. PDF link HERE as the post box loves reformatting.


14.12.11

returnsongs

I've been working on the return songs sequence over the last term or so. They've emerged from a greater attention to breathspace, as in Cummings, Oppen or Mario Petrucci's i tulips, and a draw to psalmic imagery and diction. Toby Martinez De Las Rivas, I discovered about a year ago, does prophetic and revelatory utterance terrifyingly well; so while these inhabit at times a similar atmosphere (he uses names often, beautifully), the drive is quieter. I'm still working out how the page's whitenoise can be incorporated without the scattering seeming arbitrary – for me it's sometimes about breath, sometimes rhythmic punctuation, and also simply the way the poem looks.

The return songs are likely to be incorporated into a larger project due (is the plan) as a pamphlet in spring 2012, but here's a draft of 4 as they currently stand. No. 1 appeared in Varsity September 2011, 2 currently included in Felix Bazalgette's Amusements magazine. 




1
That this too is 
distance
london hymns
her buoyant 
with moth- 
luck to earth 
       via cordite 
              rungs
That emmaus is
like this
     yarned rest
     wheel of
sparrow & hair 
     & drum
but john 
precious in joy
i see now 
      
      every 
      sung







2
paths circa robin
huddled us together 
with thoughts of east
i open morning out
      
      sky tinder 
crane flies un pieced 
                  
      un us 
(& was i utter to 
 a beechen call
      i ask
is it record of
a harmony
      spans us 
stelled at a remove)






3

at brink i 
turn bewick
to palm
     
      as
      way 
      She 
said in tundra
( white the
  clearring 
      of her 
      face
               )
for 
year is
maned is
      less o
      paque
so 
long so 
sung that
                      daw

    
      at break







4

his
 chemic
  underwing.

   november
    busk,
     its

      bluish
       roads
        undersing.
  
         devon
           red,
            this
     
              lipped
               field-
                underling.

                 coal.
                  breath.
                   his
                    underwing