Posts Tagged ‘alchemy’

Ok, so after the 4 Alchemy pieces, here is the pull-back-and-reveal: the complete piece. Alchemy is in the change all together produce as an overall effect.

FOUR CORNERS OF A BOX

 

*

The huge slab feet of Waterloo Bridge, and the Shard;

how office blocks shoulder together, and shine

in a river wind that burnishes blood, red.

In Manchester the banjo man sieves

daylight out into his black canyon of a box –

the city dips night-up to strange perspectives.

And Edinburgh’s Protestant tenements;

old preachers in black proclaim, no microphone:

live artefacts amongst the Festival tents.

 

*

A sister-kin of floods; and garden ponds.

The grim rain overstrict with the forced authority

of culverts, drowns men in reservoirs, the fronds

of unrealised dreams. How the Atlantic

is a sapping, smothering body, the busy

rounded rush and squall of cold North Sea,

are gathering their resources; continual; frantic.

 

*

The tinder-box of city streets; and a light:

how squads rush, restrain, and kettle; so nothing stands.

How fire, electrics, demand be made stronger, bright

and so feed, stand and be judged; their light

incinerates value, connection as they plunder, despoil.

And how you huddle over the grate, serve it

with bended knee and back, take out its night-soil,

it’s used-up corpses.

 

*

Feel the wind tug in your clothes, and the fall

urging: buy me, need me, come with me.

Loss of control, as the product placement, pratfall,

of the accessorized soul… it’s how abatement –

as grip fails and fingers clutch – is a panicked stillness

before shop window, clothes store… bank statement.

How, like sleight of hand, your bankcards rise

to the top, and below them, nothing…. How it’s all lies.

 

 

ALCHEMY OF EARTH

Posted: April 22, 2014 in Chat
Tags: , , ,

 

Earth

The huge slab feet of Waterloo Bridge, and the Shard;

how office blocks shoulder together, and shine

in a river wind that burnishes blood, red.

In Manchester the banjo man sieves

daylight out into his black canyon of a box –

the city dips night-up to strange perspectives.

And Edinburgh’s Protestant tenements;

old preachers in black proclaim, no microphone:

live artefacts amongst the Festival tents.

THE ALCHEMY OF WATER

Posted: April 17, 2014 in Chat
Tags: ,

 

Water

 

 

A sister-kin of floods; and garden ponds.

The grim rain overstrict with the forced authority

of culverts, drowns men in reservoirs, the fronds

of unrealised dreams. How the Atlantic

is a sapping, smothering body, the busy

rounded rush and squall of cold North Sea,

are gathering their resources; continual; frantic.

ALCHEMY OF FIRE

Posted: April 10, 2014 in Chat
Tags: ,

 

fire symbol

The tinder-box of city streets; and a lighter:

how squads rush, restrain, and kettle; so nothing stands.

How fire, electrics, demand to be made stronger, bright,

so you feed, stand and be judged; their light

incinerates value, connection as they plunder, despoil.

And how you huddle over the grate, serve it

with bended knee and back, take out its night-soil,

it’s used-up corpses.

ALCHEMY OF AIR

Posted: April 3, 2014 in Chat
Tags: , ,

Image

 

 

Feel the wind tug in your clothes, and the fall

urging: buy me, need me, come with me.

Loss of control, as the product placement, pratfall,

of the accessorized soul. It is how abatement –

as grip fails and fingers clutch – is a panicked stillness

before shop window, clothes store… bank statement.

How, like sleight of hand, your bankcards rise

to the top, and below them, nothing…. How it’s all lies.

 Image