caught up in force fields

It’s nearly dawn in the zones and smoke presses the room.
Talk is now inanimate, you can't get away from circles
the band pounds them, beer walls become automatic.
Can you go far enough away with your poor tongue-tied body
safe in ragged circumference? You'd be better off near water
or plotless in heat. Come to the river to pray where
alien versions connect, gods swinging as we're dodging.
Huge elephants dance among us.

Fear the stillness washing away in the heart of rage.
You can’t stop to give tribute. Language detaches its tongues
tracking this crowd as familiars merge. You’re deceived
washed with the eternal, or one of a piece with the new state
of hardness, scared of your own versions, your own release
locked on top of night, if it’s enough to be discovered.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

vale Jackson Mac Low 1922-2004

Belatedly, wanting to acknowledge the passing of Jackson Mac Low last week. There's an obituary at The New York Times and here's more info on Mac Low . The poem below is from his series of Light Poems. 1ST LIGHT POEM: FOR IRIS -- 10 JUNE 1962 The light of a student-lamp sapphire light shimmer the light of a smoking-lamp Light from the Magellanic Clouds the light of a Nernst lamp the light of a naphtha-lamp light from meteorites Evanescent light ether the light of an electric lamp extra light Citrine light kineographic light the light of a Kitson lamp kindly light Ice light irradiation ignition altar light The light of a spotlight a sunbeam sunrise solar light Mustard-oil light ...
Read more

the smell of rain

I went out for a brief walk this afternoon. It was raining, but not so hard you needed an umbrella (I hate umbrellas anyway). And so very strong, the smell of rain. I remember once reading out a poem of mine and having someone come up after the reading and note that I'd used the phrase 'the smell of rain'. I couldn't tell if he liked it or was simply taking the mickey (the latter, I suspect, as he was a very 'cool' poet and I am, manifestly, not). I wondered about the smell. To me it's always been obvious. But today I decided to go and find, and here , via the ABC and CSIRO, is some hard data. The common rain smell comes from a gas called petrichor. Apparently, volatiles evaporate from plants and are absorbed by rocks, concrete etc. When the rain hits the rock, the volatiles are released into the atmosphere. That's why I can particularly smell it wandering along concrete paths and past sandstone walls. If it's good enough for CSIRO, it's good eno...
Read more

connecting poetry and TED

As well as taking part in events at the Sydney Writers Festival next week, I'll also be doing a quite different gig in Sydney on Saturday 22 May, at the Carriageworks. I will be part of some readings organised by The Red Room , at an event called TEDx, which is taking place in Sydney at CarriageWorks on Saturday 22 May 2010 and featuring, as the website claims, a selection of Australia's leading visionaries and storytellers showcasing their Ideas Worth Spreading LIVE to a group of thinkers ... as well as ONLINE to the world at large"." It's part of something called TED which is described as "a small nonprofit devoted to Ideas Worth Spreading. It started out (in 1984) as a conference bringing together people from three worlds: Technology, Entertainment, Design" . As for the poetry part it will include Johanna Featherstone from the Red Room making a presentation about the role of poetry in Australian society. To complement Johanna's talk will be rea...
Read more