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Tag: retreat from the lyric

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©Marie Marshall

jupiter

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©Marie Marshall

jupiter

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O settlement! What do we mean when

we say ‘love’? The least kills the greatest

with ease, one stone does it. What do we

:

mean when we talk about distance? The

flames kindled, the figures leap and dance,

but only in the corner of your eye when

:

your gaze isn’t towards that stone wall.

What do we mean by self? Shift, and shift

again. What air comes between ‘me’ and

:

‘you’, and how is it charged? There is an

urgency in morning runners, but if they’re

not running to or from they might as well

:

mark time. Why is there more conversation

between late-autumn trees and those of full

summer? “Last night I saw a street full of

:

people, faces down but illuminated.” Why

do you push? O vitality! Why make such

an apostrophe, when there are children

:

dying? A career, even that of the Jagannath

cart, has an inevitable end. Why go to the

ends of the earth seeking a whole number?

__________

jupiterThere are still some copies left of my T.S. Eliot Prize-nominated poetry collection I am not a fish, direct from the publisher, though I suspect that they might not keep it in stock for much longer. So now would be a good time to buy a copy. How I hate running a commercial here!

Please visit and read Daniel Paul Marshall’s response to my short article on difficult poetry.

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©Marie Marshall

jupiter

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I don’t expect you to comprehend my symbology, I expect you to supply yours.

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©Marie Marshall

jupiterAs it is the 100th anniversary of the October Revolution in Russia, I have made available a short story of mine – ‘The Bodyguard’ – in which a woman relates a tale, to two Soviet officials, about the days before the Revolution, when she travelled to London with the Bolsheviks. Read it here.

In other news, a 31-strong group known as ‘Poets Collective’ has just published its latest anthology, The Four Elements: effects and influences, dealing with earth, water, air, and fire in all their realistic and metaphorical aspects. I am one of the 31, and something of mine is included in the anthology. There are some fine poets amongst the other thirty, and the book is available here.

 

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@Marie Marshall. Headlong flight from lyrical.

jupiter

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The old drowsy day-cat opens

one eye. When we look at the

reflet, the shimmer, we forget

:

the river underneath, the depth

of water, the banality of drinking,

we are nine-parts river ourselves,

:

and we see only a dawn ritual,

the bell-and-pomegranate of a

robe. There’s a woman who

:

knows the zigzag nature of her

life, a succession of readings

pulling her on minute tackings,

:

that make a larger dogleg, that

turns into a crack on the face of

the world, that she gives in to

:

these and goes through them as

another kind of ceremony, “Let

me be this,” seized from thin air.

__________

jupiter©Marie Marshall. “Dinnae be feart o’ wee beasties.”

I almost forgot – the Autumn 2017 Showcase at the zen space is now published.

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On-the-money, clean lines, clean living haiku continues the retreat ©Marie Marshall

jupiter

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:

:

enquiry whether love’s bore

and flood or a meander’s slow

silt rendered nothing by the

inevitable saltwater ending

:

:

__________

jupiter©Marie Marshall, if you believe in such things.

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A word with a clear meaning is a symmetrical face. ©Marie Marshall

We shoal like fry in the warm shore-wash, moved this way and that by what we already know, we’re fry and that’s our métier; but each anxious moment of observation changes the whole world, and the next, and the next. It’s like feeding bread to a dog. An island rises from the greater sea; the fry head for it, but find themselves mature, too big for the next shore-wash, and the next, and the next. Each observation proves the last a lie, and oh what joy that brings! A word is a coin stamped for a king, debased by a forger, clipped by a villain, slapped down on hard wood by a bargainer, worth no more that what it’ll buy; worthy is she who flips it heads or tails, and “You didn’t call ‘edge’!” says she…

jupiter