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BRITISH-IRISH-POETS  1998

BRITISH-IRISH-POETS 1998

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Subject:

Re: Sunday Morning Reading # 2

From:

"Lawrence Upton." <[log in to unmask]>

Reply-To:

Lawrence Upton.

Date:

Sun, 1 Mar 1998 12:16:57 -0000

Content-Type:

text/plain

Parts/Attachments:

Parts/Attachments

text/plain (141 lines)

Title: Wire sculpture # 4

talk when outside sounded throat
and put the icons old,
shift the simultaneously plainly
reality preceded status ended logic
permitting more than now
seems will destroyed of work
the hand found it, secured most, ran
in critical grim denied


Title: Wire sculpture # 5

talk, when sigh out sounded,
throats put icons
shift filmic simul taneous lee;
reality preceded status,
ended logic, permitting
more than now seems...
will destroyed hands
found it work secured;
most ran in,
critical grim denied

Title:Wire Sculpture # 21

the sort  /  an evergreen  /  with enough emphasis /
at the bar  /  familiar  /  to the bedroom  /  small /
to be induced  /  passed there  /  which helped /
for itself  /  in upbringing  /  rubbing a danger /
he was lying  /  bad form came walking /
I've got a psalm  /  I thought or admitted  /  identical /
happened to catch  /  a message  /  suddenly  /  happened /
and  /  action  /  beginning  /  whole being wrong /
deceased  /  she  /  showed  /  depressive illness /
in a moment  /  in one piece  /  was facing /
a thin  /  precursor  /  I don't think  /  a little place /
having just broken suddenly  /  no more than  /  fine /
narrowly failed  /  coolly  /  an announcement /
and video libraries  /  something  /  for that mistake /
powerlessness  /  words to be stressed  /  I'd have /
thinking about catching  /  from the very beginning /
distant  /  friendliness  /  in compensation  /  dead /
on writing  /  his agreement  /  impressing you with /
could be created  /  in motion  /  the screen /
must have noticed  /  phrases  /  the general way /
you any way we can  /  complaints  /  understand?! /
in the years  /  sentimental  /  trumpeter /
using my day  /  calling  /  clearly audible /
buy a drink  /  investigate  /  if you like /
the second time  /  distinguished-looking /
without warmth  /  come out  /  forgery  /  unlike /
the following  /  good  /  imagining  /  hair colour /
thought  /  remember  /  remarkable  /  thought /
that was so  /  greater safety  /  memory of it /
shook his head  /  against this background /
channels at random  /  like stories  /  some demonstration /
your honour  /  I've no doubt  /  physical attributes /
how you feel yourself  /  the experiment /

Title: Wire Sculpture # 26

spelled out / had decided / ignored / in the cafe /
able to produce / to the bone / operation / of him /
did not reach / could dominate / in those days /
pulled the / place up the road / firmly /
but a contact / for practical purposes /
opened the sudden ending of the music /
to simplify / that's right / nodded through /
but it was simple / related to the basic facts /
yes, indeed / he was taking / screaming /
and across the valley to the hills / pretend /
waiting for him / was high / at the bottom /
a wearying task / the only one / preferred /
dedicated men / over lunch / effectively / a weak /
the post-mortem / it came down to money /
of polite conversation / years ago / the rendezvous /
a virtue of words / a torrent of infamy /
hitherto completely / was more open / floating /
the disruptions / which he exercised / cut in /
would choose / the owner / one of them / crystal /
a man who / I could well be wrong / start /
banks / don't want to cause / pain / the institution /
hesitation / secretaries / carefully / the legend /
morning / an air seemed slightly / all the details
interpreters / in fact / dusty and faded / chance


Title: Five miles from Camborne

white birds on a brown field
not all over it - up one end -
about two thirds of the way up, going away from me
far more on this side than the other -
I am on the left
no jokes - I am trying to help you see this
something between a narrow triangle and a line
had been started, as I say,
about two thirds of the way up, on the left-hand side,
and directed towards the top right-hand corner -
though I doubt that it is square or even rectangular -
not making it, a brush full of white birds, dropping most of
its pigment on the left-hand side, in the middle of
an imagined left-hand column, and lifted, leaving a tapering triangle line
that's lost in the wet brown of the right hand of the visible field
viscous white specks here and there

    
Title: Song (after some lines of Chaucer)

One, pain hobbled, avoids friendly circles,
working on lines infinity evaded,
spinning bone sphere mapping rock sphere spinning -
leaf mother, drop me strong vines, let me hang.
Old limbs dream secession from their shrunk spines,
leaving its thoughtful head ridiculous,
co-ordinating imagined impulses
and the rebellion fails at its dulled parts,
flesh-hacked, hooked in the mouth, famished, flabby.
Though all the coils unravel yet they hold,
tenacious beyond the grip of desire,
the umbilical worm self-half-strangling
              
-----Original Message-----
From: Douglas Clark <[log in to unmask]>
Date: 01 March 1998 11:10
Subject: Re: Sunday Morning Reading # 2


|I would like more poems to be posted.
|







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