Follow by Email

Sunday, 8 October 2017

Six Political Poems

Glimpsing a  hint of something 

a multitude of scales 
of individuals  
different types 

                       she’s sculpting her anger and disappointment into a brightness 
                       and releasing it to join the others and strengthen their intervention















Living by building walls,
afraid of the dark and the different,
whistling Dixie.

They take the signs emitted by their masters far too seriously
and then kill for a heavily guarded and 
aggressive timidity.














Teeth of the worms of the teeth in a scarlet pit;
               blazers and shining buttons and cocktails
and teeth clinking against glasses and worms and the teeth of the worms
               and auto-satisfaction in the smiling pit, ringed with diamonds,
and the crisp shirt stained pink against deep pink flesh.













… pick up and shift it shift it over there over
there shift it drop it off then pick that up and shift it 
over there wrap it up then pick it up and shift
it over there there over there shift it pick it up and shift it 
unwrap it break it down and rebuild it across those four 
then wrap them all up and shift them shift them 
pick them up and put that one here put that one there put
that one here put that one here shift them put that in there 
put this one in here in here in here then that one there on there
are you trying to put it there there make a career out of that
pick this up and shift it over there pick pick it up and put it …













Waiting flames, scarlet and vibrating yellow, licking tarmac
in the heat of expectation of nothing but shining signals
of intense intention, masks and raised flags declaratives 
of a desire for lives lived according to a genuine dialogue between 
necessity and desire, instead of under orders, rising &
flickering in variations, forever around the edges & anew
in every trembling eternal differential duration, rising &
singing in scarlet fire and shuffling across bright ground. 













Under sensitive fingertips is red-brown rust raised up from the colder, 
smooth black paint of the post they’re clinging to, sky shining far away, 
damp, aching and obscure (and there again, both closer and just as distant, in the
gutter-puddle). A cold surface of skin lightly brushed on occasion by thin denim
registered at the far edges of a cramped daydream as a bus approaches; an
aching hollow chill at a deep core of need needling a perimeter of transition to
others and outside and that cushion of anger and warmth a metre or so away. 

Friday, 2 June 2017

Contagion

Across the water I falling in my waves and particles 
Brightening myself as I'm cutting through and elements
Mingling as I merge as I watch myself watching under my 
Racing sky, warmth on my face and across my concrete 
Surface beneath my feet walking running standing and pivoting
I'm kissing and I'm watching me kissing with taut
Passionate cheeks that make me smile in my waves and particles
As I'm borne on my wind and torn and scattering wetly into my air

Face

Energy running through a plane expressing waves collective 
imposing subject expressing passion in energy imposing plane

waves pursuing energy inverting subject exposing ripples
shining moist collective passion waving across plane

wheatfields fecund shining golding warmth modulating 
with a surface spreading as across a shoulder a buttock

a smooth pale stone a pursuing moist collective plane
across exposing ripples a shoulder a modulating buttock

waves expressing wheatfields fecund surface imposing 
shining ripples collective plane exposing energy modulating 

plane smooth subject spreading a collective fecund surface 
running through a subject a passion pursuing expressing passion

waves across a shoulder through a buttock modulating moist
smooth pale stone in a wheatfield golding passionate smooth

plane rippling with energy shredding subject pursuing collective
expression fecund collective expression singular gait and gesture.  

Saturday, 25 March 2017

Desires

Some Assembly


They move towards a new 
themselves, plugged
into a shining romantic 
grey-black surface, 
reflecting two 
skintight legs & there's 
a smoothly passing 
hiss of bulbous shadow and 
bright edge. They ache slightly 
to be at the forefront of a past,
of lights in a wet city that echoes
with a cold night satisfaction,
and they may get some faint
tremor of that kind, maybe, 
across a perimeter and through 
a forgetful burial in necessity
and information as they 
move towards a new themselves. 












Freedom

They're not sure if they want significant movement or 
space in which to quietly enjoy their own self, or
both, in fact, variously. It's nebulous, 
but in either case and both cases they need to
couple and uncouple and couple again,
whatever it is needs to be built and will
reach out as they say, to some sort of 
other thing. What is this scenario? They are 
a movement with a projected potential and a
light, pearly grey and unrecognised, 
within which they move, suggestive of something
that affects a quality of movement. 
This is something like what they want;
it seems both easy and almost 
impossibly difficult, this utter involvement
out to the farthest reaches of space and
all substance and time for that matter and 
back down to a sensation of a slightly greasy wall
against fingertips, along with a sense of 
unfolding differences affected by choices
without the interference of a fascist establishment. 








Glamour


In a cloud of light, a drift of smoke 
they see it, they see a projection through
shining winter hair and laughter, 
not hiding so much  as extending 
a sense of solidifying music in a
very major key. Everything's fine
and growing in the warm summer 
lucidity, a frozen bare-legged stride,
a pirouette, a warm sophistication. 
Just 20 quid and there it is again,
stretched across the dirty brickwork. 









Omniscience

Moving through, beside, shining hedge leaves radiating depths of vegetable bitterness
Indigenous Armed Group Formed in the Mountains of Guerrero
Thin yellow light strip between clouds & distant shallow hill, muted winter stripped lung line 
Dasein must in the first instance answer for itself
Reflective play across glass, through flashing light and dark and shining blur 
Last ditch talks over tube strike arranged 
Trailing gently over damp abrasive bricks alongside shallow wriggling tarmac reflections 
Dozens of inmates killed in Brazil prison riot
Heat, light and a rich black shadow burned into a road
These are the women who have the least to lose and the most to gain
Pans hang and collide gently, a unique music to a unique breath
I may not have meaning, but it is the same lack of meaning that the pulsing vein has



Sources of quotations:

Derrida, The Gift of Death
The Morning Star
The Guardian
Hannah Zufall, "Jin - Jiyan - Azadi: Women, Life, Freedom", Lens Culture https://www.lensculture.com/articles/sonja-hamad-jin-jiyan-azadi-women-life-freedom
Clarice Lispector, Agua Viva





Fried Chicken

Felt in the pit,
in a brightness sliced across a pavement, 
redness and scabby white and a dirty
pull they're lit by,
to sit in swaying thrall 
to blissfully full vacancy 





    Dancing

"... this oaf had acquired instant grace ..."


A machine for flying  deep
blue 
         through the sweat 
       and the aching calves

in a pathetic fallacy
    
                      from under 
       oppressive strings

smiling is good

                and they can feel the grain of a
cold morning 




Night 


Somewhere in the folds of their palms,
       beneath the skin they
       feel giddy depths of thrilling darkness,
complex, rotating crystals,  black fractals


splayed legged under yellow lights 

breathing cold smoke and fumes to private 
music, traffic, Doppler perfume,
muscular humming & fizzing against a

weight of atmosphere soaking into a throat 

open and greedy

spring-heeled





Immortality


An expansion and a relaxation though 
still they face the eradication of possibility but,

unhindered at first by a perception of crushing power 
always sitting on their sleeping chests and laughing 

through their seeming absence of significance, until 
they start to wave, even without bucking or fighting exactly,

weight increasing and pressure on the air pipe and
it's so easy for the others who are sitting on their 

sleeping chests, ignored largely, mostly, but now they 
have even noticed and the nuisance must be eradicated 

easily because it's not them just glancing but the sun is 
low and bleak in the mirror and a joy of beauty

is going to be snuffed out, an absolute shredded and binned,
except that a night six weeks ago there was a glance that 

is there and can't be removed, and other glances 
into the low sun and the fog of Spring. 





Validation 

A working at snaring a breathing, 
chaotic fragment to illuminate some
sense of sentient fire, to transmit across
a network of receptors a shivering, just feint, at 
the surface, theft in order, to order
for the sake of marginal shimmering out
over a vertical blue to a depth of some three
metres on a good, polished day. 

They skate with some grace along 
the bright rim but seeming imperceptible. 

There might be a multi-dimensional
solidity and liquid movements through
warm, breathable sunshine.
There might be fresh unfolding. 



Validation

A working at snaring a breathing, 
chaotic fragment to illuminate some
sense of sentient fire, to transmit across
a network of receptors a shivering, just feint, at 
the surface, theft in order, to order
for the sake of marginal shimmering out
over a vertical blue to a depth of some three
metres on a good, polished day. 

They skate with some grace along 
the bright rim but seeming imperceptible. 

There might be a multi-dimensional
solidity and liquid movements through
warm, breathable sunshine.
There might be fresh unfolding.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

Immortality

An expansion and a relaxation though 
still they face the eradication of possibility but,

unhindered at first by a perception of crushing power 
always sitting on their sleeping chests and laughing 

through their seeming absence of significance, until 
they start to wave, even without bucking or fighting exactly,

weight increasing and pressure on the air pipe and
it's so easy for the others who are sitting on their 

sleeping chests, ignored largely, mostly, but now they 
have even noticed and the nuisance must be eradicated 

easily because it's not them just glancing but the sun is 
low and bleak in the mirror and a joy of beauty

is going to be snuffed out, an absolute shredded and binned,
except that a night six weeks ago there was a glance that 

is there and can't be removed, and other glances 
into the low sun and the fog of Spring.