Leaves and leavings in Carpelan's Shadowland

Carpelan's Shadowland, by Vivi-Mari Carpelan

I was pleased to take part this week in a reading of poetry inspired by some stunning prints in an exhibition at the wonderful Mid-Wales Arts Centre, near Newtown, Powys.

I chose this multilayered image by Vivi-Mari Carpelan to work with, and produced the poem below.

Some 25 poets wrote new work as a result of this exhibition, and their poems can be seen alongside the pictures that inspired them. The show is at Mid-Wales Arts Centre until May 5th, 2019; and will transfer to Aberystwyth Arts Centre later before going on tour to other venues.

Here's my poem from the project:

Leaves and leavings

Her memories are fragments

taken from a wreckage of smashed mirrors,

pieced back together

so that her recollections

are only reflections of each other.

Misremembered pieces

imitate but falsify

and she no longer understands

that what she recalls

are only distorted images.

Layers of shadow on shadow

show that nothing is what it seems –

not in the past or present.

She weaves the spectres

of mis-shapen memories into tapestry

makes a new collage

layer on layer

angular fragment on fragment

and she looks through

a window, but sees

into a twisted looking glass,

her view veiled

by an apparition of herself.

Still she sees leaves,

even among winter bare trees…

leaves and phantoms of leaves,

remembrance of leavings;

and he is there, his silhouette

down there among the gravestones.

She watches where he looks

but whatever he remembers,

whatever he sees,

his memories and recollections

are obscured by light.

For more info about the 'Inspired' exhibition see also: https://www.midwalesarts.org.uk/event.html?id=33

Vivi-Mari's website: http://vivimaricarpelan.com/

Not on the map

Not on the map

It wasn’t here in this wood that we walked

that spring

where we wandered aimless

among the overpowering scent of bluebells

kicked up the aromas with our thoughts

startled blackbirds’ warnings

it wasn’t here

we talked of how to find a path

clasped hands

as you helped me across muddy ruts

and then didn’t let go

and we talked about whether we would or would not

could or could not find a way

all the while the purple scents

followed us through the trees

but it wasn’t here

you showed me

how moss makes velvet on tree trunks,

wild roses cascade out of hedgerows

how elderflowers scent the air

how dark it is under the tree canopy

how the sunlight shows through

it wasn’t here

This poem was first published in Picaroon #14 in January. See more here: https://picaroonpoetry.wordpress.com/2019/01/20/picaroon-poetry-issue-14-january-2019/

I sense you

Here’s one for Valentine’s Day. It’s from a sequence of love poems in my second poetry collection, due out Autumn 2019 with Indigo Dreams Publishing.

I sense you

when we make breakfast in the morning blue

in aromas of bread and coffee, I taste you

when we swim in the rising sea

salt waves swell over us, I taste you

as we walk through the pollen-full meadow

showered with flavours of spring, I sense you

on far mountains where we ramble

among the tang of ancient peat, I sense you

when the dark red wine swirls around

and ageing oak rises from the glass, I taste you

when there is dessert with sweet apple

and sharp redcurrants, I savour you

when the fire burns slow late into the night

woodsmoke weaves around us, I taste you

as we mingle our limbs and fall into sleep

between the midnight sheets,  I taste you

when water silvers in the vase and

rose perfume rises in early sun, I sense you

 

Alone and together

For my first blog of 2019 let me first wish all followers and readers all the very best wishes for a happy and healthy year.

We are all aware that we live in uncertain times – for the planet and ourselves.  I also know many people who are facing personal difficulties and tragedies. May you all find some peace.

The poem below is the first one in my second poetry collection, Breakfast in Bed, which will be published later in the year by Indigo Dreams Publishing.

I was delighted when I heard in October from the lovely people at Indigo that they wanted to publish my work. They are a great publisher, and I have a number of poetry friends who are already published by them, some of them I first met on Jo Bell’s 52 writing project in 2014 (Write a poem a week for a year). Check out the Indigo Dreams shop here: https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/buy-4-get-1-more/4594495985

I am also pleased to say that several of my poetry colleagues in west Wales will be publishing collections in 2019 too. At least three others from the workshopping  group PENfro Poets (which grew out of the PENfro Book Festival nearly seven years ago) will have new collections out this year. I’ll post about them when their books arrive.

I am grateful to the fabulous website Algebra of Owls -- https://algebraofowls.com/poetry/

 --  for publishing this poem back in November. This is the first poem in my forthcoming collection:

Alone and together

A city that snares

slow rhythms

(Federico Garcia Lorca)

A river flows through

afternoon’s slow heat,

Lorca’s pace

                (together and alone

                juntos y solo)

babble at café tables

rises and drops into shadow

by the waterside

sun falls through trees,

the flicker of fresh leaves

in green spring

                (solo y juntos

                alone and together)

wine is red, time is yellow

the rhythm of the river is ours

for this hour adrift

Memory is held by water

Getting poems ‘out there’ into poetry magazines and onto the ever-growing number of well produced websites can be hard work. It’s a competitive market for today’s poets.  Consequently I am always delighted when I hear from a journal that they have accepted a poem of mine, or even two poems, for publication. I was especially pleased this Autumn to have two poems published by the wonderful Algebra of Owls webzine. And I was double-delighted when this poem went on the win the Editor’s choice award.

Memory is held by water

They sit on the wall of the old town bridge,
                that place of endless departures,
below the high castle walls.

Usually men, mostly at night,
                they are silent, unseen.
This one is young.

His white face looks down between
                black boots as his legs dangle.
He will enter me soon, or walk away.

When he slips in I will hold him close
                but I will not interfere
as he sinks into my depths

I will feel him among my green weeds
                and in my vortices
carry him in undercurrents

with migrating salmon
                over the silt and mud of my bed
to the sea and out on the full tide,

as all the other lads before him
                over countless centuries.
I never know why they choose me.

Maybe because I am dark and very cold
                there is certainty in my currents and eddies,
no chance for a change of mind.

Bitter as brine
                I am always here,
yet I flow forever, east to west,

tidal, so they are sure
                I will carry their cargo out,
take all their weight.

This is what Algebra of Owls guest Editor Clare Shaw said about her top choice for September/October: “This was no easy task – a wonderful bunch of poems with many strong contenders …

“In the end, I chose ‘Memory is held by Water’ with its painful, chilling insights and its stunning restraint. This takes the story of one man in one place, and through the voice of the river, offers us something universal – as disturbing and heartbreaking as the subject demands. In its strangely calm and impersonal sense of compulsion, completion and comfort, it speaks for the people it depicts – with tenderness and respect. A great poem.”  Wow, thanks!

Algebra of Owls is a great place to read a range of top quality contemporary poetry. They aim to publish ‘engaging, accessible poetry from around the world’. Read more here:  

https://algebraofowls.com/