poemimage

Where text meets image. Where the visual intersects the literary.

Tag: visual poetry

You Told Me You’d Be Home By Ten

Original

Transfiguration by Steven McCabe

A butterfly wing

Grazes your cheek

Travelling

Two thousand years

Per second.

My latest video poem (or film poem if you prefer). We originally filmed and recorded the drumming over two years ago for a different project which never saw the light of day. In the meantime I become interested in juxtaposing silent footage with live action. I realized we could use silent movie title cards for the poetry and not compete with the sound of drumming. The poem Transfiguration was originally published in my 1999 collection Radio Picasso (watershedBooks). My poetry videos can be found @ http://www.youtube.com/mccabesteven

 

« Goutte À Goutte », Plein verre, 1940 (May) by Pierre Reverdy, Translated by Pierre L’Abbé, 2011.

quartet

Drop by drop

drama

The habit of loving
The sap of fatigue

intersection

tritone

The torrents of sleep
In the pit of nefarious plans

shadowed a
If I had to give over the secret of the past
I would no longer fear the heaviness of blood

intersec  tion orange
Being alone
Sharpens revelations on the edges of the wind

white cracks copy
Weak and ugly
I sleep in gutters

new twin
Doubled, exposed to the weather
To the barbs of fate
To the blows of fortune

celtic animal
The bubbles of dark days burst in my hands
Life trembles irresolute on the edge of each sheet

mirrored

wash
Along the borders of the morning

wash
I no longer take a turn

wash

queen

The forms of hatred
Cheeks bulging with fire
These starving ovens

glassed

her wall

When love enlightened breathes on bitterness

a garish village
And dances on the dream-rope of nothingness

splash 3

face subtle

Pierre L’Abbé is a translator, a publisher, and the author of poetry and short story collections. He lives in Toronto.

final one

new carnival

When I began generating images for this Reverdy poem my focus was ‘self’ seeing ‘self.’ I wondered also if the poem was historical. I pictured incidents from World War Two. Or maybe psychological? The poem seemed to present an existentialism assuaged with the balm of cathartic love. And then because, coincidentally, I assembled this page on Easter Sunday, I considered (perhaps outlandishly) this being a dialogue between Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. In two voices. An end to their metaphysical, sexual, emotional love. Hmm…perhaps too literal. I wasn’t sure where metaphor began and personal voice ended. This began a chain of associations concerning language, representation, authenticity, double-identity, etc… and I was back at the idea of ‘self’ (whatever that is) seeing ‘self.’ You know that feeling you have when you look in a mirror? You know it’s you but you’re not quite sure who ‘you’ is. You see yourself experiencing an image of your self. So, as you can see, the poem presented a host of interpretive challenges. Pierre L’Abbe would know far more than me about this poem’s purpose. As always, I went with my intuitive response in creating images. In this case a face and a figure interact while constantly transforming.