All entries for February 2008

February 06, 2008

pamtoum drip drop tick

pamtoum from gallery…

Black drip drops
Clocks tick tock
Gallery floors tack
Man’s watch ticks

Clocks tick tock
Crowds don’t flock
Man’s watch ticks
School students mock

Crowds don’t flock
Man’s shoes tap
School students mock
Sellotape flaps

Man’s shoes tap
Old woman tutts
Sellotape flaps
Start to speak but…

Old woman tutts
Gallery floors tack
Start to speak but…
Black drip drops.


sky dress.

from a third draft of the poem with the pronouns and words from spam mail i slotted the lines into the form of a pantoum to see what happened if the lines wern’t reacting to each other they were already chosen…. and this is what happened…bits work bits dont:

There is elation in this tarmac in my tiptoes
You, under the rain, back-track.
Wet clothes, new lows, in highs, cries of joy
Fling wet arms high around wet necks, skin, cling, together.

You, under the rain, back-track.
The sky dress droops around, down into ceilings,
Fling wet arms high around wet necks, skin, cling, together.
Drips into coffee hinted smiles of lovers across table-tops.

The sky dress droops around, down into ceilings,
Falling candles flick, fire licks, and steeps your sky dress vertical puddles in dripping tongues.
Drips into coffee hinted smiles of lovers across table-tops.
I reach up.

Falling candles flick, fire licks, and steeps your sky dress vertical puddles in dripping tongues.
You writhe against the wave winds frothing around your face
I reach up
Kiss.

You writhe against the wave winds frothing around your face
Wet clothes, new lows, in highs, cries of joy.
Kiss.
There is elation in this tarmac in my tiptoes.


puddles in time.

Do not let those solid drips stop time
Look up through cobwebs to gold bulb of light
Down, down, through splintered sellotape and grime

Flimsy tetanus tables past their prime
Bend until you see through reflection’s sight
Do not let those solid drips stop time

In mirror fragments, red iron mime
Of life, refractions scatter prism bright
Down, down, through splintered sellotape and grime.

Blue cotton reels suspended try to climb
Go, go, race on with all your balanced might
Do not let those solid drips stop time

But quiver in the water’s ragged rhyme
Rest in rusting ripples of mirrored light
Down, down, through splintered sellotape and grime.

Your tattered face taped down, outside of time
To shards of floor that struggle into flight
Do not let those solid drips stop time,
Down, down, through splintered sellotape and grime.


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  • really impressed b, really impressed. c x by chris rogers on this entry
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  • hmmm…i like, some lovely snapshots of aesthetic anti–narrative. I particularly like a 'silence ful… by on this entry
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