Sunday, 20 April 2014

Ondine: a poem.

I watched a sweet film called Ondine last weekend. It stars Colin Farrell, Alicja Bachleda, and Alison Barry. Directed by Neil Jordan, the film came out in 2009. The music of Sigur Ros, also new to me! features in the film

The film is steeped in Selkie myth; a creature of the sea that can come on land after shedding their seal coat and taking on human form, often beguiling. The original 'Ondine' was found as a small child abandoned on rocks and brought up by a fisherman. The story escalates into love and tragedy. Selkies often return to the sea, many after digging up their buried coat. In the Neil Jordan film suggestions are also made to seven years and seven tears being a cut-off point.

The film inspired me to write my own take and this is what I came up with:

Ondine

Leaving the deeps with her voice and her coat
her singing haunts all the pretty fishies
to do as she and quit the buoyant seas.
She crams his pots with a charm from her throat;
besotted lobsters craving every note.
Shoal in the net flood the deck to a squeeze;
cool bodies and a steel quick to bellies.
Stone on stone on the scale nudge up a hope.

He lands his catch for lingerie and frock
and town steps out in a pretty rumour
of the secret he knows he cannot keep.

Her buried coat and the movement of clocks.
Gossamer moments spinning together
her seven years and her seven tears to weep.


I found some nice art work by Annie Stegg: 


 This is the Sigur Ros piece that accompanies the film:









Friday, 4 April 2014

Film action.

Here are some moving pictures of my life a couple of summers ago...a little bit of spoken word as well!



Sunday, 23 March 2014

I found a sweet project on twitter today set up by Art_Accross_The_City/@Lowcs_Art. A megapoem to celebrate the Dylan Thomas centenary. Anyone can post a ditty. There are currently six pages of writing, and contributions are limited to 140 characters. I didn't create an account before I uploaded my rhyme, so I am not credited, but I like the anonymous angle. This is what I came up with over my boiled eggs this morning:

A teeter in the terrace
and a dream out of kilter,
we lift steel from the furnace.

I think I will have a bash at a few more lines after demolishing the roast beef I have just banged in the oven.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

Mussels


A poem I performed at a Literature Wales event today in Neath. Happy St Davids day.



Mussels

Naked feet shooting pains of devout guilt
we grind the sacrosanct barnacle furze
only in places. Bearing no burrs,
over a fathom deep, more beautiful gilt,
damson dark, we mash. Pale bodies so spilt
we see moonlight shot the interiors;
clamps, grow on grow kept them from predators.
We strip timid so many ways to tilt.

Bewildering seizures of thrill wake us,
cut scalpel clean,
                            painless from everything,
every fibre
                 smitten
                              hold
                                      of ocean.
I rise to what a full moon uncovers,
rip from the water-line
                                     ample feasting,
all
     my humility
                         gone
                                 unspoken.