Radio Carbon shorts #24

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the twenty fourth and final film poem, Midwinter Fire

Midwinter Fire

Midwinter Fire burns in
the bushes as I walk with
my daughter Natasha
through fragile blue
and skeins of snow.
So the foetus dreams
twenty four seven
in mother’s womb,
images of heaven
blown across
the back of the cave,
bull, stag, reindeer, horse
running in the mind,
sticky with clay,
dilated awakening,
russet of winter willow
over deep water
looped with the flicker
of the sun’s cascade,
white explosions
of light and cruel air,
the play of thread
between words
and the things
beyond words.

 

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Radio Carbon shorts #23

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the twenty third film poem, Spinney

Spinney

The bare copse looks loaded
with munitions as we follow
the fox-run through wild
spinneys between schemes.
Not much to pick over
for the remote viewer.
The land’s been drained
of its water gods and we’re
hand-winding the day forward
the way it should be done –
straight from the bottle,
the neck, the heart swollen
with pollen, Bourbon and tobacco,
raising the feathers, stirring
sleepers from long abandoned
stations, buddlea heavy with
fresh blossom, obsidian clockface
turning from solid to soft core,
silver catch leaping in the net
tightening at the neck and shouting
new constellations across the sky.

 

Radio Carbon shorts #22

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the twenty second film poem, First Words

 

First words

like spring flowers
coaxed from their centre,
the roof of the mouth
is that point two inches
below the navel where
humanity dukes it out
with God’s geometry
fastening to your face
before sleep, heavy
feathered images
frosting to the mind’s eye,
the rock n roll beat
of the bicameral mind…
hard to remember
learning the lingo,
foundations sunk
through centuries
of matter to the
lower interglacial,
cold explosion
of air in the lungs,
words pinned
to the impenetrable
like a veteran’s medal.
This train is being held
at a red signal.

Radio Carbon shorts #21

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the twenty first film poem, Afterburn

Afterburn

Smoking underneath
the apple tree heavy with
smoke and blue blossom,
whistling an old tune
to bring the dogs home,
and here they come
along the unpaved road,
the sagging fall to earth
of wild and distant fruits
fermenting the mind,
alcoholic sugars rolling
around the bell of your tongue.
It’s January in East Berlin,
sky filled with Zeppelin
and space dust, the passage
of cumulus and cuineform
setting the clocks back
to basics: first clearing,
signal and spark, pigment in
a bowl ready to run into depth
and distance, pubescent dancers
breaking step from Eden into
settlement, accumulation, account.

Radio Carbon shorts #20

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the twentieth film poem, Vapour

 

Vapour

The passage of time
had been broken,
as if a hidden drawer
in a traveller’s chest had
been sprung open
releasing perfumed
scent of an older order,
tiny stitching for a faded
empire, sinking through
solid matter as if it
was vapour, the hard facts
frosting on the glass.
This sky looks cursed.
Sleep sets you like a glaze.

Radio Carbon shorts #19

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the eighteenth film poem, Explosive

 

Explosive

Love’s weightless
origami carries the body
to forbidden places,
the heart packed tight
like explosive in a bomber’s
vest, a one man army
travelling west, the road
filled with fallen wings,
heavy buds on the lips
of the faithful, the long
dark thread in the blood
unravelling from
the first exploded atoms
of our coming.

Radio Carbon shorts #18

The film poem Radio Carbon was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 as part of the wonderful Zata Banks’ Poetryfilm.org‘s regular screenings, and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.

The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.

For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …

Here is the eighteenth film poem, Astrolabe

Astrolabe

You’re moving in cuneiform,
breathing in bubbles. The water here
is the measure of time distilled
by muse and memory, rockfalls from
a fogged past laying down the bass line
to the tip of your tongue where it
probes your lover’s labia minora,
shades of softest pencil lead,
clothes shed about you as you
fuck on top of Longerford Tor
on midsummer’s day, fern patterns
in mackerel skies, spunk and love juice
spotting the granite like starlight
on the dark side of the planet.