Sunday, December 20, 2009

Harry Godwin ~ How Poets Seep into the Unconscious



dream : 19/12/2009

cloudy ceilings

emily howard - elegant . demure - sister of simon
polite conversation / waiting for mark
cobley - red top / blue jeans - arrives late
apologies / must leave . s

staircases
shafts of dust / lit
must . wood . door
sun on the porch on the grass

I have never dreamt of grass
of cloudy ceilings
but staircases -
Yes.



Harry Godwin is a London-Devon poet (discount rates on Sundays) who publishes, is published and founds things (like Cleaves Journal). He spends his time and that is why he is in debt. He also looks after a pregnant lady and a kitten, so please support him and buy his books from The Arthur Shilling Press (they are cheap and there is no profit from them).


Harry Godwin ~ How Poets Seep into the Unconscious



dream : 17/12/2009

dim lit
lecture
red balcony seats
red .
ceilings

Tony . Lopez /&/ Fraser
prat about -
scolded by the old
unseen




Harry Godwin is a London-Devon poet (discount rates on Sundays) who publishes, is published and founds things (like Cleaves Journal). He spends his time and that is why he is in debt. He also looks after a pregnant lady and a kitten, so please support him and buy his books from The Arthur Shilling Press (they are cheap and there is no profit from them).

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Diminuendo ~ Emily Howard




I play the piano

In the clothes closet

One pump about to tumble

from the shelf. High heel

black sequined. Shape of a gun.

I wore it in a concert once.


One pump is tumbling

high from the shelf

I play the piano

Black sequins, light gradations.

Gun metal strings, quarter tones.

a crime scene really.


I am a woman playing the piano

One high heel pedaling

the other one tumbling

Crime scene, quarter light

Gradation of tone. Little Bach Fugue

Black sequined gun.


Clues to the crime. I am a woman.

I wore it in a concert once

Fugue, gradation, metal quarter

Might have been for a lover

Tumbling tone, yes.

shape of a gun.


Yes, I wore it for a lover

Little Bach sequence playing

once in a concert. Gradation of tumbling light.

Other strings, quarter time, black clothes.

in the closet on a high shelf

Shape of a crime scene really.


I play a crime scene. Black sequins pedaling

sequence. A fugue tumbling.

A woman by gradations, quarter tone.

Other times, high heels once in a concert.

Gun metal Bach. A closet.

A high shelf.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

let me explain ~ angie werren

I can hear
in your silence / leaves turn
branches crack / flood waters rush
cold air thud into warm


your sigh is
the screech of a red-tail hawk
your laugh is
the click of talons on soft rabbit neck


be careful of the loud words you speak
be careful into which ear you whisper


there is always a calm / and sandbags


listen
in hidden corners


there will always be a great horned owl


Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Brighton Beach (NYC) ~ Beth Levin


I swim far out
to where a man sings an old Russian folk song
my skin like eyes and ears
senses the sky the water the wind
a wobbly seagull escorts me back
to my blanket in the sand



Beth Levin is a classical pianist in New York City. Beth says "Working on a poem is a chance for me to work with words, break out of a score and in to the spoken world for a little while.
"