NaPoWriMo 4.3: You Can’t Look

peter_paul_rubens_-_hercules_and_cerberus_1636

“Let us get ourselves a pet…”

My, it’s getting late. Which might be why day three turned out quite so peculiarly (sorry not sorry). That’s my ‘excuse’ anyway.

I’d been meaning to write something about this news story for a while – and had the first couple of lines in my notebook. However,  I’d suggest reading this poem first, then looking at the news story – just to see what the effect is…

You Can’t Look*

In an instant, our faces became Bacon
smears skyward; the low hiss of moon-
sized fans on the horizon,
kaleidoscoping in. Our limbs
reformatting. Our skin
more river than bank.
These wind-up trainers
running for the train
our brains are on. Touch

will be the only sense
we need. We will grow
haptic trunks, feel the sky
smudging. Why wouldn’t I want
a burning tyre for a mind?

For my body to slide
out of resolution, the icon
slipping from my swimsuit?

Let us take a holiday
from our abdomens.
Let us get ourselves a pet
that is Cerberus with a third
off. Let us be only half
but the half which
grasps
beer. For our feet
will no longer touch
the ground, for neither

is ours, and neither
is here.

* NB: I asked the Jabberwacky chatbot: “What should I title this poem?”
It answered “You can’t look you don’t have eyes…”

And just then, when I told it, “Thank you, that’s perfect”, it replied:

“Nothing in this world is perfect.”

So far, so Neuromancer

Moving Images 1: Fokus

I thought I’d set myself a challenge of writing every week from a public domain bit of film footage, to give my blog a ‘thing’ (yes, ‘a thing’)…

Over the last year, I’ve become more interested in the interplay of video, poetry, video-poetry, poetry-video, film-poetry, poetry-film – or however you’d like to label it. As a poet who loves film, it’s a rich and fertile inbetween space.

There are an incredible amount of free film resources out there to choose from, so in putting them to use as as source material for creative writing, I hoped I might be able to share some of them with you.

I’m going to give you my writing, followed by the film – but you can view them in whichever order you like:

Quit

You don’t always know
the door is open
when you’re chained
to the radiator, smoking.

You can’t always see
this trapezial light, or feel
the echoes of last night
that butt-in, splutter-splice
with this bloody morning city.

Your head is the ash
and you’re building it up.
Your head is the ash
and there’s never a tray.
Your head is the ash
but you’re still smoking
smoking smoking.

And you can watch the film here:

This is from the https://archive.org site, which contains an amazing range of film resources – have a look!