I actually did start this poem yesterday I promise I was in Anish Kapoor’s exhibition in Manchester Art Gallery http://www.manchestergalleries.org/whats-on/exhibitions/index.php?itemID=77 It was marvellous, and so interesting to see someone using women’s bodies, yes in an abstract way and in parts, in a way that doesn’t leave you feeling queasy and seeing dismembered limbs. I wrote this first one using the warnings on the wall and titles from the pieces and some of the materials etc, again as with all my found and sculpted poems I tried to use as little added language as possible!
Please do not touch it’s raw, red in the centre
the sculptures turning the world inside out
1,000 names and blood, a void
Some negative box shadow
Even a finger print will damage the surface
of moon shadow, glass and lacquer,
the many flowers
thinking over many years works
Please hold me by the hand
Be aware that impact will permanently stain
Please leave red flowers
Please do not cross the void.
This next poem was written today from a piece of free writing focusing on one piece in the exhibition but attempting to use the artwork as a stimulus not just to describe but to write from it and explore my personal emotions and the sensations that tapped into. I started writing about the piece Void, which is a fibre glass bowl mounted on the wall coated in raw deep darkest royal blue pigment which to me looked like velvet. This piece I was really drawn to I found it profoundly comforting, when I started writing I worked out why. Its basically the best visual representation I have ever found for how I feel about the endless sky and flat horizon of Norfolk, which frequently appears in my poems, even here this month we’ve already had several references!
I imagine that this is like being inside the song
blue velvet, dark as fifties crooners
Silencing as drinking ink,
flows in my nose and ears and mouth
not suddenly but with permission
I could crawl inside it and sleep soundly
dreamless, I imagine
its those nights dormicing in ripened corn dizzy and tipsy
drinking from the bowl sky
I can even put in the stars its lacking
it’s given me that august Norfolk night
in jagged Manchester
drink it it in and you will see why
I can’t breathe in this city
I have never felt so much myself
so much a part of all the world as there
no hustle just stalk sounds , owl and bat wing
you can almost hear things growing.