rehearsal of collaborative poem (full text below) written for
Caesura #33, held at
Saltire Society,
Edinburgh 24/9/
2015
http://goodnightpress.com/caesura/33-2/
Text incorporates two stanzas from Hávamál: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C3%A1vam%C3%A1l in the translation by
Paul Edwards and
Herman Palsson: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Words-Odin-Havamal-Paul-Edwards/dp/1874665109
Full text of the poems here:
– u u | – –
Dactyl & Spondee, by
Iain Morrison
Company that somehow has
your address details
Be stricter with self
You have a leg cramp
which way to stretch it
the wrong way will hurt it
You agonise.
Our ken is partial
Memories deform
what you work to proceed
Remember to stand
for too much that's ageing stet.
Steps stop a lot
the rest you've felt hardly
gay cousin design fair
Length of Skype hangouts
just ask advice
Start with your sense
and the awareness
of what that can do
Build life from base
We threw the canker
out of the bedclothes
We drew the canker
out of the bath
Bedding wet bedding
bathing so much
concomitantly wedding
So fár just what personage
always does do
Harnesses time
in order to change
Sees separatably
giving themself
the illusion of stills
Zombie films too
where the dead are
less of an arbiter
more of an aargh
biter. If it's
problematic then mayn't you
pack it in your
problem attic?
It pleases you now
to fall into sense
Something maintains it
if wanting doesn't.
Walk of shame boy
in the blue velvet trousers
stops into Lidl.
sexual activity
firms his proclivity
sensual receipt
Round him a cheerful
contiguous precinct
exsensual shareable
otherwise only
you take it rudely
Too promise muchly
delivers you lessly
In homosociety
fighting is sexual
if fighting in some way
defends against rape
O overly - blipsy
propriety poetry
Actually our rules
Apply almost nowhere
Old salt and new
performing together
regrettable seasons
that your books got chewed.
Who in his boyhood
leaks into unseal
lost before off-spinnings
history glazes
count on your good hand
one clay-clay two cray-cray
Hardened glue clues
[
N.B. Jane Goldman starts reading here - text below]
Our hearts are preppy
Then casually smarten
Prior to death
in an open-necked shirt
Tonight you are rakish
your Thruff love abundant
To whose wall adjoined?
Soon to be lover
he has been out of
then enters your thoughts
while you stage this delay
Resisting relation
while stands invitation
It will not feel.
Guard yourself always
Going through doorways
Scan every stride
Scan every step.
Seldom the eye
sees the enemy lie
in wait by the wall.
Praise the giver! a guest
has come by seeking rest,
can we spare them a seat?
They feel awkward, on edge,
if we form a wedge
between them and the hearth.
History rising
treated as object
even the mosque
aspires to the skyline
I needed to go
and connect my to-do list
with points in the city
It felt so much better
than cramping inside
moving only my hand
where the vision gets built.
Landscapes are artefacts
which might be useful
leaves of material.
Lifting Thruff, by Jane Goldman
1. Something in
Paul
didn’t love a wall,
he’d give his guests always
the most open of doorways:
if that wasn’t enough
he’d lift up the thruff,
form himself for a hearth.
2. He shares the wealth of his word store,
wisdom and wit all the more
fierce with his fire.
Why feel awkwardly edged?
Do we need a red wedge
to make new work?
3. Guard yourself always,
going through doorways,
scan every stride,
scan every step.
Seldom the eye
sees the enemy lie
in wait by the wall.
4. Praise the giver! a guest
has come by seeking rest,
can we spare her a seat?
She feels awkward, on edge,
if we form a wedge
between her and the hearth.
5. Something in
Palestine
doesn’t love a wall,
give our guests always
the most open of doorways:
if that isn’t enough
let’s lift up the thruff,
form ourselves for a hearth.
Scan every stride,
scan every step.
6. Something in
Calais
doesn’t love a wall,
give our guests always
the most open of doorways:
if that isn’t enough
let’s lift up the thruff,
form ourselves for a hearth.
Scan every stride,
scan every step.
7. Something in Paul
didn’t love a wall,
he remade Hávamál
with his mate
Hermann,
they’d give their guests always
the most open of doorways:
if that wasn’t enough
they’d lift up the thruff,
form themselves for a hearth.
8. They share the wealth of their word store,
wisdom and wit all the more
fierce with their fire.
Why feel awkwardly edged?
Do we need a red wedge
to make new work?
9. Guard yourself always,
going through doorways,
scan every stride,
scan every step,
lift up the thruff,
form ourselves a new hearth.
i.m. Paul Edwards and
Hermann Pálsson, late of
Edinburgh University, and
translators of the
Old Icelandic HÁVAMÁL: or, THE WORDS OF
ODIN
- published: 29 Dec 2015
- views: 71