Tag: poetry

Categories
poem poetry writing

Dominae Sol serenat omnia

aikyo to aikyo 2019 postcard of oil on canvas painting by Anna Ishii
あいきょうとあいきょう

Dominae Sol serenat omnia

Dominae Sol serenat omnia - Latin poem based on the Mediaeval Latin verses in the Codex Buranus.

Based on Mediaeval Latin verses in the Codex Buranus. Below, you will see the English translation.

The Sun is my Empress, She shines over everything

I was tempted to put the full text here. However, I remembered that Chrome’s translation software would chew it up. I hope the two images render without any issues. If there are any, let me know. The raw text is available, so please contact me if you would like to have it.

Image: Postcard I received recently of Anna Ishii’s 2019 work, “Charming and mesmerising” – 193 cm x 193 cm oil on canvas.

Categories
art creative writing fiction writing

Accession

In a previous post, I mentioned that I was writing a coronation scene for a new novel. The story is set in 2033, and unfolds in the same universe as The Quarter Percent. We follow events from three perspectives. One belongs to Sebastian Sax-Gault, who happens to be a nephew of Cordial’s.

Whereas it hath pleased our Most Blessed Lady to recall to us Her glorious memory in the noble crown which is solely and rightfully come to the High Prince Carroll Patrice Saints Maud et Agnes:

Still drafting, but I know how the story ends. In the very last scene, after a bombshell revelation the previous evening, a hush falls over the nation on Coronation Day. The new monarch is Sebastian’s bestie, 35-year-old Carroll. In this draft of the story, Carroll’s father is still alive, so the proclamation of accession has to take place at the coronation.

Proclamation of accession (fiction).

By this point in the story, we have eavesdropped on meetings and know that the coronation will be stripped of pomp and pageantry. Sebastian has been asked to whittle down the government’s expenditure on the ceremony to mere shillings. The ceremony is a reckoning with the public which, after a display of hubris, has completely lost face. Nonetheless, the ordeal has been humiliating for Carroll.

Bless and sanctify thy servant Carroll, Inheritor of this realm, who we anoint and consecrate King. Imbue him with the wisdom of the Mighty Reformer Jonas, as we, with one voice, proclaim him King, Servant and Steward, with hearty and weighty affection.

The proclamation text is based on EIIR’s 1952 accession and 1953 coronation. (Read a short story inspired by the latter). As mentioned in that earlier post, Google was reading over my shoulder and recommended gospel music to me on YouTube. I made some artwork to display the text that was misunderstood. I hope you like it.

Note: This post was originally intended for publication on this date, 09/20, but I moved it up a week. I moved it back here to make way for a different post. Thank you for your attention, as always. Header image: Izrael Poznanski Palace in Lodz, Poland, by Jacques Bopp, via Unsplash. Concept art: “Accession proclamation for King Carroll”, Posca watercolour pens, and Pilot Juice metallic ink on matte/glossy magazine paper.

Categories
art creative writing fiction

Madame Editrix,

Madame Editrix
Metallic paint and ornate rubber stamp on cardboard. Processed with handwritten font overlay.

Story
William Shakespeare’s manuscript for Romeo and Juliet has been scorned by an editor. To redeem himself, he stages the play for the Queen.

Script
Alas, and did my nostrils flare, to see a note; thine own words here:

“What strop is this? I ask, forsooth. This Romeo ballad’s not hooked. Thy fellow bards might pardon this. But “hit” for me, dear Bill, not ’tis.”

Her Majesty will be today, with noble court, to watch my play. What, and she’ll ask, lit fire in me? Please rest assured, I shall blame thee.

+_~

 

Categories
art creative writing fiction poetry

David et Goliath (Archangel Edit)

Archangel Michael

Cheer me on, Oblivia
as I wind up from the knees
to rend from Earth this nemesis
of everlasting peace

Aiming at the nose bridge
of the Grand Chaos Machine
bracing with the groundswell
fully charged, I launch again

Swing that arm around now
Come on David, let her fly
Holding up your left hand
as a shield against the sky
watch that middle finger
you must use it as a guide
Clean your stones; less friction
Count, release and it is done

Lead, my faithful vanguard
Gather, kindred, go that way
On your trusting footprints
shines the mighty light of day

Come on, children, walk this way…

 

♝

Note: I wrote this poem at the end of March and hid it, thinking I would never need to publish it. Clearly, I was kidding myself. Tammy, and Jeanne, this poem might be all I can do. Photo credit: Archangel Michael defeats the Evil One, St Michaelis Church Tombamasta, Hamburg, Germany; image via Pinterest.

Categories
art dining out gourmet poetry

Tea + Poetry

Earl Grey

Notes had been sent asking after my whereabouts. I hadn’t indulged in my favoured Earl Grey, tiramisu and panna cotta combo for months. This is my day off, so I presented myself at my friends’ patisserie just after 11.00 (dessert before breakfast, people) and got to work. Eating, that is.

Orange panna cotta

As for play time, this is what I got up to. Special thanks go to Egbert Starr for permission to work on this composition using excerpts from his brilliant prose poem, The Gallows’ Horse. Please visit his blog to read the full version.

open magazine pages with tiramisu and orange panna cotta

Featured magazine – Numéro, Tokyo, April, 2016. Vol 95: Perfume ads; “Dark Romanticism” and “Pretty Killer” editorials by Ellen Von Unwerth with art direction by Yuni Yoshida.

Dark Romanticism with glass try and tea

Prose poetry excerpted from “The Gallows’ Horse” by Egbert Starr.

Facing pages; poetry on magazine page; empty dessert jars

Upper:
I said to the wise man I met, “Love.” And I said to the crone the same. To children, I said to them, “Love one another.” To kings, philosophers, chemists, scientists of every kind, my message was exactly so.

Lower:
I remembered from the land above the flower of my treachery. I remembered my rage and anger and my fulsome seductions of a thousand Persephones. How pleased I was! How capable! How incisive and cross-quotable my demonic possibilities. I was in the world of common men without compare!

second page with poetry written on

Epic prose poetry, and it tasted fantastic. My friends and I chatted while I worked, so they were my guest editors. Thank you for reading, too. Enjoy a sip of all right until we meet again. SB

Categories
art creative writing health

Refined

Rubber stamp on magazine print, with inked verse on recycled paper
[a] Finally, a readable version (gives up)

Collage: Rubber stamp on magazine print; lavender scented ink (in quill) on recycled paper. Photograph: “Pretty Killer” editorial by Ellen von Unwerth, Numéro, Tokyo, April 2016.

A mindful process refines me. When a thing feels auto-, it’s time to reset and learn as I go.

Refined
[b] Proofread (gives up)

The quill and lavender scented ink are with a friend’s mother. She’s recuperating after a long hospital stay. Writing in a start/pause/adjust style should keep her mind and hand muscles engaged. I practiced for several hours to get a feel for the process. She’s now giving it a try.

Thank you for viewing.

Categories
art creative writing poetry

Wax Horizon

gouache on wood panel in yellow ochre and brown
Gouache on wood panel (wet/processed photo)

Ad septentrio video
haec ceram caelum clara
supra mare stella Martis

 To the North and I hail
in full this wax horizon
bright across
a Martian sea*

Vignette
(Original; starting point of a colour study)

Meaning: Dust yourself off and try again. Notes: I didn’t realise until Thursday afternoon that the painting resembles the horizon as seen from Victoria Crater, Mars. *As you know, Mars is dry; however, 19th century areographers used “sea”, “lake” and “ocean” while mapping the planet. Thank you so much for viewing.

Categories
art creative writing poetry

Poet’s Brew

image

Rusted dials
fond shadows threw
o’er hapless sonnets
in poet’s brew

♞

Poet’s Brew | SB

[The photo is a hapless page from my journal, a red A5 Zequenz 360° roll up. I have tried but it never rolls up for me (story of my life). Keep chipping at that stone. Best wishes for February.]

Categories
art creative writing poetry

Frost

Frost

Winter ices fire
in this midnight garden
where you left
me waiting in the haze
of a bucolic frost

It etches crystals
and invades my brea-
-thing streams
(There’s cramping)
But it seems …

Winter’s glance is bare
She whispers every-
-where through
twisters in this maze
With promises sublime
she sends my sighs
on down the wire
and I hope they’ll
stay away

{(-_-)}
Frost | SB

Photo: My index finger on a frosted car window one very cold morning in January.

Categories
Ancient Past creative writing fiction poetry

Empress Tikki

Shxpir for Harper's Bazaar ChinaThe actuary’s gaunt face presented harshly against the hush of apprehension that gripped the room. The Empress veiled herself with a blank expression. When no one was looking, she released a slow eye roll.

Etiquette dictated that she not show scorn or deference. Today was particularly challenging. On the eve of expansion, the actuary stopped to raise a challenge. He had discovered two spots on a six inch map. The surveyors looked confused. But they quietly agreed that this was a democracy, and let him have his say.

Trailing off the table were yards of hemp scroll. Empress Tikki wanted to wrap it around his neck. “One more passage and then we’re whole, one last signing is the end I’m told…”

Shadowed by nervous ministers, the actuary started clearing his throat. The metallic timbre induced, in the Empress, a maddening primal scream. “Be impermanent in this please, do not drag it out another note…”

♫ Gffmh-gmffh gffmh-gmffmh gffmh-gmffh fhmm
hmmfh fmmgh fhmm hmmfh gffmh-hhhmm ♫

“Pray the deities, restore my soul,” muttered the Empress, “we are held hostage by a mating goat.” She flashed a smile to restore decorum. The actuary had until sunrise to interrogate the two moth stains.

♛
Empress Tikki | SB

Photo credit: SHXPIR for Harper’s Bazaar China, 2014. Musical inspiration:  Habanera from Carmen by Georges Bizet.

Categories
art poetry

Flight

Flight No 3

 Where blended charcoal
yields
Passion’s Stone
and zealous labour horizons hold
up silent towers tall and bright 
we rise, undaunted,
through the night 

₍՞◌′ᵕ‵◌₎♡

Flight | SB

Categories
creative writing fiction poetry

Access/Allure

spectre3

She pumps the pain
All access hurt
A short seduction
Four nights of mirth
One drunk admission
more blues champagne
his tears are flowing
tonight again

Allure’s a vision
Synapses reign
in love at midnight
aboard a train
That window’s frosted
and winter thrills
to watch them burning
from fiery sills

Love days are over
those times they were
like crescent shadows
where moon deceives
When tears were falling
with autumn leaves
she caught the dew drops
on silken sleeves

She pumps the pain…

+(❆ڼ❆)~  ∗♞͂  ∗ ♞͂ ∗ ✩ ⃛

Access/Allure | SB

Photo credit:
Monica Bellucci and Daniel Craig in SPECTRE
courtesy H&K/JME Photo  via Telegraph UK

Categories
poetry

One

highly stylised photograph of a woman in blue, titled, the ice queen

I comfort all souls
in the palm of my hand
so more life will flow
from our primitive band

Fifty thousand passengers
all pearls in a clam
Forty thousand citizens
slow rhythm, love jam

Infinite princes
mix beats on this shore
They’re dancing and laughing
and pass plenty more
embracing the night
as prism’s jet hue
then pull straight ahead
and march in this queue

For one drop in an ocean
(That’s when I am with you)
I’ll rise up and greet
this carnal deluge

(´ε｀ )
One

Photo credit and special thanks: Butterfly by Aria Appleford.

Categories
poetry

Luminous

My heart is burnt at half past light
goes dark against the breaking day
My soul is lost as curtains fall
unveiling streets on other sides

Through filtered lens the sky I see
breathes dragon’s fire on heavenly hosts
It’s like the time when Midas touched
The Gorgon’s braid and turned to dust

But on that street is where you’ll go
merits to reap with subtle boasts
I’ve no more time for morning breaks
No blood was shed
That’s how it goes

After the war
on Temple’s ledge
I dare to stand where angels tread
Their love will pierce the purple clouds
under the sun
at break of day

(╥_╥) 

 Art work: Angel Anatomy by Akreon via Deviant Art

Categories
Ancient Past fiction poetry

All Hallows’ on the Styx

Bast sings a melody
for the
Sphinx
Elbows to the chest
we’re on the
Styx
Oars to the moon
night’s old as fire
turning
not returning
in the winding gyre

Steer to the left
Souls bare all pain
Face to the knee go Zael and Cain
slouching off to Bethlehem
filled with guilt
Roll to the right
you’re on the Styx!

Chant with the Lion
Cramps this cold
Eyes on the Lion
Pull and hold
Reach for the Lion
Push and fold
Elbows to the chest
Pull and hold!

(/▽＼*)｡o○♡

All Hallows’ on the Styx | SB
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!
(Stay out of the Styx)