poemimage

The visual & the poetic.

Category: Visual Art & Poetry

Every Day A Bucket Goes Through the World and We Were By the Pool

earthbook 123

I wondered about all the ways a bucket

Could go through the world:

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Metaphorically, Emotionally, Politically, Sexually.

Physically.

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And I wondered about the actions of the process:

Drilling, Lulling, Hypnotizing.

Seducing, Elucidating, Revealing.

Reversing. 

earthbook

To what outcome I asked myself:

In what shape of hole or chasm

Does the bottom fall out?

some kind og

Is negative space the new positive?

double bucket book

Does the bucket absorb the shape of the earth

And lose itself,

 Once or forever?

yellow bird

I asked myself these questions and meditated upon the possible answers.

No I didn’t.

one day

We were at a pool and the girl I liked was on a towel next to me,

And when I said I loved the Bob Marley song

Coming over the loudspeakers

She said she hated it.

montagenewly triangulatedoval fadeoutovalina xovalina xxovalina

I Have Learned So Much by Hafiz

new

I

Have

Learned

So much from God

That I can no longer

Call

Myself

circular detailgreen night

A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,

a Buddhist, a Jew.

invited

The Truth has shared so much of Itself

With me

spoken

That I can no longer call myself

A man, a woman, an angel,

Or even a pure

Soul.

whipporwhillpearl

Love has

Befriended Hafiz so completely

It has turned to ash

And freed

Me

zz2feather

Of every concept and image

my mind has ever known.

swimming 2

From: ‘The Gift’  

Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

thouest thou only

I did the ink drawing in my Moleskin sketchbook within the last few days

using a Micron drawing pen with archival ink.

And the digital manipulations of the image within the last 24 hours or so

using Photoshop 5.

new moodnew

*

*

*

I Know The Way You Can Get by Hafiz

coffee face on lid

I know the way you can get

When you have not had a drink of Love:

Evidence Bcoffee stain 1

Your face hardens,

Your sweet muscles cramp.

Children become concerned

About a strange look that appears in your eyes

Which even begins to worry your own mirror

And nose.

origcoffee stain 3

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness

And call an important conference in a tall tree.

They decide which secret code to chant

To help your mind and soul.

touch of bluecoffee stain fragment againcoffee overlaid on black and white

Even angels fear that brand of madness

That arrays itself against the world

And throws sharp stones and spears into

The innocent

And into one’s self.

duotone deluxetwo types of ecstacy

O I know the way you can get

If you have not been drinking Love:

coffee face on lidlids lids lids

You might rip apart

Every sentence your friends and teachers say,

Looking for hidden clauses.

coffee mountain

You might weigh every word on a scale

Like a dead fish.

coffeeism

You might pull out a ruler to measure

From every angle in your darkness

The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once

Trusted.

2 coffee

I know the way you can get

If you have not had a drink from Love’s

Hands.

3 coffee

That is why all the Great Ones speak of

The vital need

To keep remembering God,

So you will come to know and see Him

As being so Playful

And Wanting,

Just Wanting to help.

blimp and lid in the desertmorphed

That is why Hafiz says:

Bring your cup near me.

For all I care about

Is quenching your thirst for freedom!

cinematic shadowthe tomorrow

All a Sane man can ever care about

Is giving Love!

origcoffee face on lid

From: I Heard God Laughing – Renderings of Hafiz

Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

Today

today a

Today you forget again

You stay with forgetting

(again)

Today you forget again

You stay with forgetting

(again)

You taste forgetting

today e

Again

You taste

Forgetting

today b

You taste forgetting

(again)

You stay with forgetting

(again)

today c

You forget forgetting

You taste forgetting

(again)

(again)

today d

You taste forgetting

You forget forgetting

today e

You taste forgetting

(again)

today a

Today

today b

you

today c

forget

today d

(again)

today e

A Broken Ankle (and Oliver Cromwell)

1

At the nine and one-half week mark

Your foot is still swollen

23

Your ankle looks like a loaf of rye bread baked

On a winter night and placed inside a blanket

As winds howl through cracks in the walls.

4

Or something meaty and coarse

Illiterate peasants tear between their teeth

Marching beneath a mercenary banner

15

 Fighting a war for glory and power

Though not their own.

13

The instructions are:

Elevate, ice, and exercise,

Form the alphabet three times a day with your foot.

17

Do not dangle your foot for hours above any battle scenes

Celebrated in embroidered tapestries

Warming cold castle walls.

12

For the last month you have worn an air cast

Made of plastic and plastic fabric

Following six weeks of plaster and then fibreglass

Monstrosities.

1417

 You march beneath the banner of a cane. This is next.

137

 The electricity goes out. You push past a blond woman on a horse

Climbing the stairs. She’s dressed like a fish.

Or so it seems with glimmers of moonlight passing through cracks

In the roof.

1717

You rescue two children.

This is not possible you are on crutches.

2

 Oliver Cromwell’s army is marauding through the streets

Looking for Irish to enslave or decapitate.

16

You tear down a tapestry showing Puritans Arriving in America

And roll up the children.

You put a loaf of fresh bread between them

Dragging the tapestry to the corner of the Great Hall

Behind a counter with pastries, a cash register, and postcards.

1314

 You find your crutches.

Your air cast is light and removable

For a month and a half you wore what felt like anvils

And told yourself you weren’t going crazy.

This doesn’t really bother me you said.

1512

 You tell yourself you won’t be captured.

At the fracture clinic they said you would walk in

On September 8th with a cane and a limp.

16

Your foot fits in your unlaced walking shoe.

Oliver Cromwell is trying on wooden shoes.

Where did he get those?

He laughs a high-pitched laugh.

3

 His Puritan followers board a ship for the Caribbean

Leading captives bound neck to neck.

17

 You walk right through them and shudder with cold.

You limp into the sunshine

Stopping at your neighbourhood cafe.

121317

1981 (The Phantom of Liberation)

phantom of

In 1981

The Phantom of Liberation

Paid me a visit

81 heads

Commanding

A sketch

twin egg

I obliged

Thinking that was all

That was all

There was to it

burn blur copy

Hello and goodbye

To the Phantom of Liberation

centre eye

But the Phantom

Must have said

Eat my body

blue monuments

I complied

Thinking that was all

That was all

There was to it

blue conte

Hello and goodbye

To the Phantom of Liberation

dream section

They found a foreign body

In my heart

And said it’s spread

To your brain

And your wings

new ore

I said I don’t have

Any wings

face of the phantom

They said I was covered with wings

Beating ferociously

Refusing to stop

And bothering the neighbours

geo2

I asked if I should move

To a cemetery

something

They wanted to know

If I was trying to escape

Liberation

Or the conditions that require

Liberation

intersection

I listened to their question

Thinking that was all

That was all

There was to it.

the conditions

Too Late

1

I realized (too late)

We had left alchemy

Out of the equation

Configuring

Stars, pathways, and

Heartbeats.

 I hastened to manipulate

The voluminous footnotes to my

Apology.

Rounding and pulling

Like working with clay.

Evaporating

Like working with love.

My apologies began

To glisten.

It is never too late

To listen.

1 again23

Inner and Outer Worlds Permeate Poetic Pulse and Melody

afternoon in paradise 3afternoon in paradise 4.afternoon in paradise 5

The streetcar stops beneath a railroad overpass

Snow still on the ground.

Melody stirring a pot of homemade soup

In the apartment she shares with her mother

Near the courthouse.

afternoon in paradise 7afternoon in paradise 8

A scratchy sofa

Something forgettable on TV

afternoon in paradise 6

I pass through her kindness like a boat cut loose.

afternoon in paradise 11

How can I prevent

What I don’t know will happen?

afternoon in paradise 13

Her eyelids lower

Contemplating a surreal image,

Her laughter like the northern lights,

Her smile

A Maya Deren film.

afternoon in paradise 9

 Jealous ghosts

Lay in wait on darkened country roads

Rising against immortal young gods

Speed-yearning into the future.

paradise

Does one simple gesture reconfigure a timeline?

Take the second bowl. The cauldron of vocation.

Leave town with her though you hardly know her.

Study poetry or dowsing,

Wash the ghosts away,

Listen to the northern lights sing into her,

Singing blacktopped roads into a charcoal labyrinth.

afternoon in paradise 1with detail bwith detail bwith detail bwith detail b

Marie Noight A’Shunning by John W. Sexton (with S. McCabe)

6m aria

Freckled with sparrows

Thrushes for tresses

7foreground

The hedge-girl turns

The dial of the moon

womb ocean 2

Marie Noight A’Shunning

Through the rushes running

marie 24 24

Call her name

When the night is long

the montagethree faces of

Then she’ll shout

the stars down

warming tomorrowmarie light strawmarie 3

 John W. Sexton’s mind was poured into his body in 1958; since then his life has been dedicated to poetry.

marie 14

How Marie Noight A’Shunning came to be is a transatlantic astral event (Canada, dreamtime, Ireland). I heard this name in my sleep and in my half-sleep wrote it down. I posted on Facebook about being puzzled; who she was, what she represented. When John W. saw her name he felt an immediate response. Translating these feelings into poetry. My images create a parallel narrative exploring Marie’s identity.

tomorrow

Rattle by Maureen Hynes

24.

There’s a new rattle in the wind, a new texture to what blows

around the continents. Spinifex bushes dot the outback’s

blowing sand, its slopes and hollows. Mixed in with red

3.6.

sandstorm dust: gum wrappers, foil bags, plastic water bottles,

empty tinnies. In the old days, says the Uluru guide, the desert

and its people were self-sufficient – what they discarded

20.22.

enriched the land. A second Gonwanda is emerging, the mid-

Pacific Gyre’s garbage patch, mirror to the four thousand pieces

of space flotsam hurtling through the stars. Daily I trouble myself

17.dialing beginning

with the household’s petty excess, jam jars and junk mail,

a bag from every airport I’ve visited. I carry twenty unmatched

lids and eight containers to the bin, the half-life of glass

7.feathered 4layered 3copynew layer 2

nearing that of plutonium. Why not create something of value

with all this carboniferous energy? Yesterday a thick grey

cloudbank was towed across the evening sky by a thousand

12.

invisible strongmen hauling in the snowstorm, obscuring

the sunset. I have finally decided that my preference is cremation.

18.23.

Maureen Hynes is a past winner of the Gerald Lampert Award and the Petra Kenney Poetry Award (England). She has published three books of poetry, Harm’s Way, Rough Skin, and the most recent, Marrow, Willow from Pedlar Press. Maureen is poetry editor for Our Times magazine. http://www.maureenhynes.com

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I modified a photograph from Wikipedia Commons (in images 3, 4, and 6) of descending stone stairs in the ruins of Vlotho castle, North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany, posted by Wiki user Tubs, GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2.

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