the olympians

i think there’s something timeless  about Greek myth and the golden age of the Greek city states generally. As there’s a lot of myth from various sources, i’ve just looked at Greek Olympians

Hera was goddess of the  hearth and marriage. Often depicted with a pomegranate as a symbol of fertile blood and death. The lion and peacock where sacred to her. Daughter of Chronus and Rhea, one of three sisters of Zeus. Festivals where held in her honour and flames kept lit in Greek city states

Dionysius was  the god of revellry, wine, the arts, fertility. He is the only one of the Olympians to have  mortal mother. Is seen as an outsider or foreigner “the god that arrives”there where diverse greek cults associated with him

Artemis was the goddess of the harvest of the wild, virginity and child birth. She is usually depicted in a forest with an bow and arrow, in consort with forest nymphs. The deer and cypress where sacred to her

There are twelve olympians, only three depicted here. There is an actual mount Olympus roughly in central greece which can be climbed and is reasonbly high. It is a testemant to this line of enquiry that Hilda Doolittle and numerous modern poets refer.  There revenance seems to me to increase with three millenia. The above is very scant information.

Artemis                            Mount Olympus             Dionysius

poetry progress

Trying to write themed poetry pamphlets on micosoft office word. But still need to put in a lot of editing if say four are going to be publihed before 31/12/16- in progress in some sense “myth”, “politics” at moment past British prime ministers. “explorers” “industrial revolution” drawing a  lot on memories of my grandparents and research on web. “Israel”

I dont think  there is a right and wrong way, but it seems a good idea at the moment for poetry to be about something concrete, and other narratives can play in or not. They still need months of work

Read Katrina Porteous-  Two Countries, Jean Spackland-Hard Water, John Burnide- All One Breath, Ted Berrigan- Sonnets, Xavier Villaurrutia- Nostalgia  For Death. Had poem in Dawntreader- Indigo Dreams, Dial 174, Dandelion Arts Magaine

marrakech20

picture of Marrakech where i’ve never been

 

eu referendum

So the British people have spoken. Or at least half of Britain the leave camp who are in a gross generalisation anti technology/ computers, anti cosmopolitan, anti other countries, non outward looking, anti globalisation

These ludites have jeapodised the union jeapodised the economy which is needed to help people who need financial and other support. The poiticians except for Jeremy Corbyn who is too inadequate to be regared as a politician- are wholy out of there depth. And  as extreme right wing nationalism consumes Britain

America and urbane sophisticated Europe seeing clearly what the British apparantly can’t. I feel ashamed to be British.  I love  europe i have spent about four years there. and can only hope ardenly for a reversal, second referendum and reintegration with our geological neighbours and the rest of the world.

europe-flag-1

 

 

 

poetry events

Went to poem and a pint in grenodd ulverstone lake district on Saturday. J O Morgan was the headline act. He read from  his accomplished book “interference patterns” in different accents which made his poems interesting and enjoyable to listen to. Met  the lovely Kim Moore who published “the art of falling” to much well deserved acclaim

Attended wire writers warrington on Friday where we did a well formulated exersise.And two new? members  and i  read out works in progress.

Looking forward to seeing Anne and Peter Sampson read at the brewery in Kendal. But after a two hour drive realized its next week not ie today! So looking forward to seeing them next week. Booked ticket  to see Sarah James at Ledbury poetry festival  in early July. And thats all the news on the last week of poetry events. I think actually writing is more important than poetry events. But its nice to go somewhere particularly in summer.

lake district 3

lake district picture

 

 

The Arctic

The arctic and the antarctic hold an allure. The tops of fir trees in the cold sky. Clear forceful  rivers. The film the Reverend catches these poetic moments well. It could also be a place of death, even if not, the extremes could be dangerous. Perhaps it Siberia Lapland Greenland Svarlbard are rooted deep in our mind as a place of travel or a journey towards

Lean wild Otters Snow owls Musk Ox Wolfs Wolverines Bears Polar Bears Lynx Caribou. Add one man in the misdt of flurrying snow treading through danger and seering beauty to where? Is the man lost?

the-arctic

 

poetry pamphlets

Just “signed off” three poetry pamphlets, which i have been working on since August. So now waiting for over 100 copies of each.

Homes is about er homes. The first two sections are bleak delibaratley so. The third section is hopeful and optomistic. There is a lot of understated humour in first two sections. And as poems go on the reader is supposed to be entertained

Narratives is an entire  book of poetry containing questions and replies. The first section is dark, but with humour. The second section attempts to address the main events- birth, marriage, old age, death. Which is done in an abstract way. And again more hopeful joyess poems in the final section “some cathedrals”. I think i did quite well to stick to the format

The Love Songs of James Dyer comprises, of i hope five plausible characters. That i hope i know. And is quirky. Hopully the characters are interesting and the poems about.

If when they arrive i can arrange pay pal they may be available for sale. I might possibly employ a wholesaler. So there not on amazon as “currently unavailable” Although as is common knowledge poetry books dont sell well. I think i should congratulate myself. I guess now i’ll have to find new things to do. Or if i can brave it write some more. I found it easier working on three at once than one at a time.

helvellyn

helvellyn-lake district

 

 

 

poetry-maria baranda- Ficticia

Maria Barranda was born in 1962 in Mexico city. Her poems have been translated by Joshua Edwaeds and Paul Hoover. She is part of a vital tradition of hispanic poetry from eg Vincente Huidobro to Octavio Paz to Xavier Villaurrutia to Homero Aridjis of the early and mid 20th century. And new hispanic poetry from Mercedes Roffe to Elsa Cross. Her book Ficticia is publshed by Sheasman in English translation. Wherefrom some quotes.

The book is in narratives divided into ficticia/ letters to Robinson/ then the Sea.

 

Who will endure their heavy burden- from 1

where fish throb with the calmness/ of a heart that’s on its own- from 1

of someone getting up to take shelter in madness/ in the middle of the night- from 6

the voices of your ancestors was a single word:/ home- from 9

I am not mistaken when i say that the word grace/ incites laughter in lonesome men- from 13 (5) letters to Robinson

That is vertigo: to stand alone and survey/ a paradise at the edge of memory 13 (6) letters to Robinson

I can lick the blood/ of a broken statue in a foggy wasteland 16 (4) Sky cycle

I will have to enlighten myself with a black tear 16 (4) Sky cycle

The century, this century, has already abandoned us./ It has renounced us 16 (5) Sky cycle

those furrows where your history/ always departs as a disasterous ordeal- 17

 

 

 

 

 

2015 in poetry

Round up of my year in poetry. Plus one last post before 2016, so i’ll have done 12, one a month

Thanks to my 19 followers. I only had 17 poems published this year including The Coffee House magazine which pleases me and one short story in Carillon. That’s the worst yearly total for five years. Probably due to moving house. I’m pleased with my new house.

So hopefully do better next year, via more submissions. And to magazines more likely to publish me. Been to a lot of writers groups and open mics in Lancashire which I enjoyed

Got two poetry pamphlets “homes” about homes. And “narratives” at first proof stage and sent files for second proofs. And “the love songs of James Dyer” is sent to first proof. So hopefully all will be self published with printers early next year

Started painting watercolours (not very good) I have no expertise!

Hope the readers new years will be prosperpous. In the  words of the editor of Pulsar magazine in Swindon “poetry is all there is.” Will see what can be achieved poetry wise next year. I still havn’t found a regular format for this blog.

292

kidsty pike? lake district

 

 

 

 

 

American realist paintings three

Third instalment of American realist paintings and my poems on

Maybe in much  edited form a future poetry pamphlet

 

  Wilmslow Homer- Blown Away 1888

 

Two brothers in a boat

The white sail against silver sea

 

Soon it will be pitch black

Moon stars waves murmering  to each other

The salt sharp, blissful ecstatic shipwreck

 

But oh the silver sea, the silver sky, the white sail

The stories we made to be told and re told

blown away wilmslow homer

John Singer Sargent- depicting Rosina Ferrara

 

White blouse pink skirt

 

She looks back

Smiles

Jet black done up hair

 

Carrying a string of onions

She embraces enchantment for us

 

Her smile contains a thousand rivers

Is bridgeless

 

Then I imagine she turns and walks away

 

Carrying jouessance with her

 

What sublimity to catch the moments she made

In a painting

 

 

sargent rosina

 

Raphael Soyer- Passerby

 

The manequins heads are lifeless

And she

Anxious walking home from work

The sidewalks are alien

And she is hurried

A hat a done up coat collar against the cold

 

A husband sits in a flat lounge, smokes a woodbine

 

And upon her arrival

The city cascades into cello and clarinet snow drifts

 

And shes walking through the mined corridors of tall steel scrapers

 

Another person in the crowd hurrying home

 

raphael soyer passerby

 

 

 

 

 

three American realist paintings and poems

Three more American realist paintings for in  much edited

form a possible poetry pamphlet

 Isobel Bishop- People Walking

The man goes right
The woman goes left
Others In the background walk
In  different directions

All bathed in a socital sea of red

isobel bishop people walking

 

Thomas Eakins- Agnew Clinic
The men in the ampitheatre seats confer
Witness become scientific and puritanically practical

Its serious

The scapel is imonde

Imagine red lipstick chanel and clamps and blood drainage tube
It may not get messy we are avid pioneers

And the light is streaming on the surgeons
For the first time angels and Olympus are barred from here

Can you here the oceans tide. Quantified measured mapped

thomas eakins agnew clinic

Whistler- The Mother

You view her askance
All sideways

But she is full like a Rousseu Forest
The tempest ace ness of a farm lullaby
The first reading of the Pauline epistles

She is both diminuative and realized
Her world is glance less inner meditation

At home in grey black white
She does not need red orange green blue
She is outside of all/ inside

Mona Lisa in Conneticate
Mary Magdalane
Danu and the Maid de Orleans

All know her

Hail halleluya

the otters and goshawks dance

while she sits more wordless than Chicago or Detroit

 

whistler the mother