One operates in black & white (without chiaroscuro)
When the ice melts all at once…
One documents an operation of the psyche
When the ice melts all at once…
One experiences the falling apart gather speed
When the ice melts all at once…
One experiences psyche igniting catharsis
Documented previously HOW?
When the ice melts all at once…
Ice laughter shines like silver
delicately brutal
full as the moon
delivering a blanket of shadowy
chiaroscuro.
You paint your eyes with infinity
I am becoming a tree
The age difference visible for all to see.
Finite wood struggles in the human heart
Radiating rings enclose the wooden heart
Flowers of infinity bloom
Night falls as it must.
You paint your eyes with springtime at midnight beneath the radiating moon
Flowers of infinity bloom.
I aim for the centre of the human heart
For I am now a tree
For now I am a tree
The age difference visible for all to see.
Which way to the bread line? The mountain is a machine. The animals are leaving Rome. Tell the Pharaoh nothing (I must have been thinking about the current situation – whatever it is).
I accidentally created a B&W version of this GIF which doesn’t register the text (not enough contrast) so there are blank spaces which is ‘sort of’ interesting in terms of future considerations.
When the Abstract Expressionists
went to the moon
and discovered
the Expressionists
had left an egg
rolling to a standstill
for them to discover.
*
*
*
The egg comes from a painting of mine.
The bird imagery comes from digital experimentation.
The idea about the Abstract Expressionists
and Expressionists
and moon travel (involving an egg)
came in a humorous flash.
Glide like an arrow into moonlight flickering the orioles’ ruffled wing
(orioles)
Orioles chanting obsidian prayers conceal the dragon’s stolen egg
(egg)
Narwhals enchant the solemn egg, vines slither into a moaning abyss
(abyss)
Zebras stampede the abyss pursuing drumbeats of a curvilinear root
(root)
Apricots wish upon the pulsing root beseeching Horsemen of the Apocalypse
(Horsemen of the Apocalypse)
Horsemen of the Apocalypse perfumed by oil rising within eyeball-shaped flesh wounds
(oil)
Oil drips into flames shimmering in copper saucers illumining infinity
(infinity)
Lemmings howl dragging the dark matter of infinity
(dark matter)
Dark matter radiates obediently, obsidian and translucently, imprisoning sunshine
(sunshine)
Glide upon footholds of dark matter buried within illumining sunshine, deliver your flickering unborn spirit
(unborn spirit)
flightpath is a cinematic video-poem featuring the art of Tehran artist Shirin Pilehvari in contrast with pristine, old-growth forest in Limehouse, Ontario. My function was writer (poet) & director. Please note full credits in the video and on my YouTube channel for a list of creative collaborators in visual art, music, poetry, narration, translation and editing.
Our core team included Eric Gerrard (camera) and Konrad Skreta (audio and video editing). We created seven video poems between 2009-2013.
In 2020 Konrad Skreta and I collaborated on a 32 minute video poem featuring his experimental animation of my digital collages (and poetry).
In corridors
of
a shadow-mansion,
once well-known,
obsidian-animals
summon an alchemical star.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting subterranean architecture of poetry.
The haystack-man
within my obsidian-heart
longs for the once well-known
song of the silver bird.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting original colour wheel of poetry.
Oceanic echoes
vibrate between stalactites.
The silver bird chants subterranean poetry
perched
upon an enormous iron wheel.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting physiology of poetry.
Nimble obsidian-animals climb
a half-visible clock-tower
buried in night-coloured shadow.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting geological formations of poetry.
Obsidian-animals,
pulsing hearts moist as roots,
prowl the corridors.
A vase tips
dried flowers scatter across a night-coloured carpet.
The seahorse-ghost of my cubistic, star-like obsidian heart
envelops the buried clock-tower.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting vast agriculture of poetry.
Haystack-man nimble as a shadow-animal
swims within buoyant
star-like dimensions,
climbs an enormous staircase
enters an unlocked door.
His feet rise above tar-night shadow
skipping iike a child.
Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva
chanting the infinite mansions of poetry.
I wrote a short poem this morning in homage to Marina Tsvetaeva. The poem was spontaneous. A lifetime entered that quicksilver moment. I have revisited the poem and edited.
Wherever you are Marina, I accept your verdict.
Last night I read selections from Marina Tsvetaeva’s Art in the Light of Conscience: Eight Essays on Poetry (translated by Angela Livingstone).
‘Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) was one of the four great Russian poets of the 20th century, along with Akhmatova, Mandelstam and Pasternak.’
‘For me, there are no essays on poetry as unique, as profound, as passionate, as inspiring as these. “Art, a series of answers for which there are no questions,” Tsvetaeva brilliantly asserts, and then goes on to ask questions we didn’t know existed until she offered them to us, and answers to some of poetry’s most enduring mysteries.’
– C.K. Williams
Mother envelops children
Sideways roll, forward roll, tilt back
Father leading golden animal
Beneath the obsidian ceremonial archway
Gift of bread
Gift of water
Caravan single file behind golden animal
Golden animal envelops dream
Dream envelops form
Mother in her rare blue shroud
One star rolling above
the obsidian ceremonial archway.
Painting: Mother, 2020, acrylic on canvas, 9″ X 12″
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