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February 5, 2015

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Experimental writing, Poetry

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Experimental writing workshop 3 (First Draft)

This week we can either:

1. write about being naked in a truck full of strangers in another, imaginary, world. how will we SHOW the differences, sociologically and anthropologically, by the interactions between us and our fellow prisoners. (Ref, Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness)

2. construct a physical world and write about it.

3. write about love without the use of gender pronouns.

I pick 3.

Please excuse the French in the first draft, as I have put this all down very quickly – any corrections gratefully appreciated (plus my Petit Robert fails me on limerance and liminal!)

frontier love

to love = aimer

 

we love without borders

in limerance I give myself to you

no holding back, no baggage

our love is perfect

hold this/that moment

 

je suis

tu es

nous sommes

nous tombons

nous sommes tombé(e)s amoureux

 

a border divides us, a sea, a language

I don’t know why I think I can love in French when my love in English is imperfect

 

nous aimons

nous avons aimé(e)s

nous aimons quand …

nous avons aimé(e)s

 nous aimons sans frontières

en limerance je me donne à toi

sans retenue, aucune bagage

notre amour est parfait

maintiens ce moment

 

I am

you are

we are

we fall

we fell in love, we fell loving

une frontière qui nous divise, une mer, une langue

je ne sais pas pourquoi je pense que je peux aimer en français quand mon amour en anglais est imparfait

we love

we loved

we were loving when …

we used to love

 

under au dessous de La Manche, 250 feet below sea level, ca c’est soixante seize mètres a toi, I pause, je m’arrête, weight of water (l’eau) crushing me m’écrase

as I travel again comme je voyage encore

liminal space/espace liminal

my life divided/ma vie divisée

from yours

no we. oui?

If you say tomber en amour to a French(wo)man, s/he/they/we may start looking for holes.

to see: voir

the sea: la mer

je traverse la mer de te voir

je deviens une mère/un père

tu deviendras un père/une mère

nous serons des parents

unspeakable difference

 

 

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February 2, 2015

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Experimental writing, Poetry

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Experimental writing workshop 2 (second draft) Comments please!

This is an evolution from my notes from last weeks writing exercise, and I need some opinions! Is this better with more punctuation, as in the version here, or less … see below.

 

Version 1

If you are broken I might be good enough

Pink-warm crystal next to my skin. Stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat. Sun in my eyes blind me to what stands. Chill freeze my fingers, can’t write. Rays caress me open. No gold. Why is it so hard to think about love? Heat rises from my fingertips, capillaries contract. Cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm, food in my belly, love. Two pairs of socks, fur toed boots. Waves roll in, heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam. Slide up the beach, bubble and roil, knife edged love. No more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips.

Waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you. I can stay hidden. Worship me, you say, and my worship is enough.

Wind in my hair makes me put my hood up, just like your words scar, knife marks yours wound chill at my breast. What I want doesn’t exist, what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want.

Waves roll and roll, sun seeps from the cold. Wind blows harder, fingers freeze. Still chill on my heart, sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away.

Expose my eskimo skin, grey white winter skin and hair, strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool. Bare myself for you. Will you do the same for me?

Out of place, nothing before me, line roll on.

Role on.

Roll.

 

Version 2

If you are broken I might be good enough

pink warm crystal next to my skin stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat

sun in my eyes blind me to what stands chill freeze my fingers can’t write rays caress me open

no gold why is it so hard to think about love

heat rises from my fingertips capillaries contract cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm food in my belly love

two pairs of socks fur toed boots

waves roll in heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam slide up the beach bubble and roil knife edged love no more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips

waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over

and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you I can stay hidden worship me you say and my worship is enough

wind in my hair makes me put my hood up just like your words scar knife marks yours wound chill at my breast

what I want doesn’t exist what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want

waves roll and roll sun seeps from the cold wind blows harder fingers freeze still chill on my heart sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away

expose my eskimo skin grey white winter skin and hair strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool, bare myself for you will you do the same for me

out of place nothing before me line roll on

role on

roll

 

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January 30, 2015

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Experimental writing, Poetry

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Experimental writing workshop 2

image

This week is about doing an exercise from CA Conrad’s A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon: New (Soma)tics. This is a beautiful book, mixing poems and ‘exercises’, most of which are designed to take you out of sitting in front of the laptop or at a desk. Instead why not try making soup and writing with your hand in your soup? Or writing with a penny in your mouth? The Soma(tics) are about feeling and writing, writing and feeling, finding my body, coalescing the divine and the nervous system, all of which is explained better in the introduction to the book which I think you should be able to read via Amazon’s Look Inside.

31pu4j1n2VL._SL250_The image, top right, outlines the exercise I picked, taking a crystal, throwing it on a hand drawn map, and going to where it falls to write. This is an initial draft pulled from the notes I wrote while out. I’ve consciously not punctuated or added capitals because I’m fed up with Word capitalising for me. I may come back and punctuate later but this flow seemed to fit with the thoughts and notes I created:

 

If you are broken I might be good enough

pink warm crystal next to my skin stone grey sea rises and falls with my heart beat

sun in my eyes blind me to what stands chill freeze my fingers can’t write rays caress me open

no gold why is it so hard to think about love

heat rises from my fingertips capillaries contract cotton polyester wool in layers keep me warm food in my belly love

two pairs of socks fur toed boots

waves roll in heaped spray spreads into a sheets of foam slide up the beach bubble and roil knife edged love no more skin exposed than lips and nose and icyfingertips

waves role in rein in ride in relentless unceasing roll me over and over and over

and I am with you because you have no interest in me other than as a mirror for you I can stay hidden worship me you say and my worship is enough

wind in my hair makes me put my hood up just like your words scar knife marks yours wound chill at my breast

what I want doesn’t exist what I want is imperfect because I can imagine what I want

waves roll and roll sun seeps from the cold wind blows harder fingers freeze still chill on my heart sun warm on my eyes and you are hundreds of miles away

expose my eskimo skin grey white winter skin and hair strip layer after layer, cotton, polyester, wool, bare myself for you will you do the same for me

out of place nothing before me line roll on

role on

rhole on

rowl on

worl on

wowl on

ole on

roll