Abby Brown - Backbiting

Route 57 is an online publication featuring the works of Sheffield University students and in the most recent edition there is this piece by the lovely Abby Brown.

Backbiting

She was already his as you dwelled
staring in one hand-mirror – gloomy blue.
With a dusty frame and a blueberry sheen
it reflected your filth, bedeviled your face,
making you just as blue as the glass it encased.
There were tinges of green locked
in your fleshy seams when
she bit her bottom lip and
he half-smiled. You saw and exhaled
jade sneezes from your emulous glare
your fingers curling, revolted
as the mirror gloated, bearing
your chubby eyes and bulky reflection.
Not her pastel lips, perfect for his
oaky eyes and coaly 80's hair
smelling of burnt sage and honey.

An issue of the poem that may divide opinion is the character referred to throughout. Personally I like the fact that I don't know who it is and that they are steadily revealed in descriptions through out the poem, it adds an air of mystery which draws you on (made me think of the evil queen in Snow White). However, from previous experience, it can stop some people from identifying with the poem. I would like to see more of this character though, who they are and how they proceed now those two are together.

Sound wise, it is extremely enjoyable to read with words like 'emulous' and 'fleshy seams' being very satisfying to read (The psychology graduate in me wonders if its shapes it makes your mouth form. Supposedly if you force someone to smile they will feel happier after time, whether that's down to chemical releases or cognitive disonance who can say..) and there are rhymes embedded in text which give a pleasant sound without the sledgehammer approach that most rhyme uses. There's also very good use of senses with the physical sneezing, the clear visual descriptions ('oaky eyes' is quite a unique and evocative one) and the smells such as his hair which give a lot of depth.

I confess though, I have no clue what the title is about! Something I will have to ask Miss Brown...

Speak Easy @ Sheffield Hallam Hubs 28/9/10

SO I tonight I 'performed' at Speak Easy at the Hallam Hubs. A spoken word night for which the full details can be found on their Facebook page
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=109264991400&ref=ts

It always strikes me as a bit strange that I can happily go and scream my head off as part of Northern Oak and yet the half hour wait for my turn had me wanting to vomit. I have a good idea why, the fact its just me on the stage without 5 outstanding individuals by my side, that it's blindingly obvious what I'm saying and I don't know the crowd so have no idea how I will be received.

Either way practice will make perfect and I'll be a King of Carnival Creation before long...

The first poem was written in the lunchtime of a Poetry Business writing day and the second is an idea I had on a trip to Chester in March, which I finally finished today.


Waiting for the ambulance

Everything is grainy and monochrome
like silent films from closed picture houses
so it’s fitting her begging tongue
can’t be heard over the crash of blood
hurtling toward erratic bellow lungs
forcing a birdcage of ribs to rise

shattered arm winds toward her
she grabs the barely raised hand
a tight knit of white knuckles
the connection that serves as axiom:
there is truth in everything

hold on...







Drive through Snake Pass



I gaze out the passenger window
into the plunging valley.
Wondering if I could
dispel those forces
that hold me together.
Skin would be lost to the winds
only to be caught in a tree,
fluttering in vain attempts to escape.
Blood would drain into the soil
returning as vibrant flora.
Organs falling and splattering
like unfortunate creatures
embedded in the road
‘til only my bones remain.

Bones covered in tiny chips and fractures
that reveal my past with rugged honesty.
Untainted by the distortions of memory.

I imagine my soul,
the vortex within them,
forcing to their surface
in flowing emerald script
the facts of my nature I try to deny.
What this body is truly capable of.
Guiding strands of promising futures.
Answers I yearn to witness...

but even if this were possible;
my eyes would have been lost as well.
So this whole exercise
would be futile.