Tuesday, 21 August 2012

The Cellist of Camden by Cyrus Finucane



The Cellist of Camden

The feather ruffler is back
that vestibule magi and guardian of cat gut,
with all the dreams and wishes
from a shop thats long been shut.
Hoarding the deafening babels
for one last Bleak house gig,
Heathcliffs face is rather distorted
but it pays for the cellist's digs.

Now aging and embittered
he is a tramp from a different class,
a ghost of a wayward victorian
with a shattered champagne glass.
Up and down the stairs he flee's
in a short and jerky English stride,
then slams the door of his abode
with his face and noise to hide.

I am sure that he plays for the witches
in their witching witches hour,
trying to reach the most grating tone
of a most musical acid sour.
He embraces a distressed cacophony
creating a toothache in ones head,
will this old bastard
ever go to bed.


About the poem by the author:
"It concerns a time when I could only find digs in a lowly and very congested doss house in London (circa 1992). The cello player lived next door to my room. I was amused by his constant strangling of the instrument and the moans and groans of the other residents. I myself found him to be a very polite gentleman rather out of his comfort zone".

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Electric in a Dense World by Dan Hedges






Electric in a Dense World
Into ‘the thoughts’ we project bias at all moments, while we forge our word-trances, electric in a dense world of colored noise.  Metaphors are for phoring, and jousting at semantics at full charge.  Sustaining vision after the original shot of noticing ‘new spectacle’ and ‘new fodder’, is the key.  It’s in the sustaining of vision (and) in the follow-through.  It’s in the ‘holding it’ just long enough so as to corral the flowing gaze at thoughts and give them agrammatical justice.  Whereas the past and future are of equal magnitude, the self at present sits at the very focal point of the conundrum.   Complexity infinitum passes through the self at volumes and speeds that cannot be registered or ‘dealt with’ satisfactorily.  To remain in a strong state of physical sanity (remember the orchids), the humanimal must settle with reaching out into the semantic storm, and plucking at only bits of the puzzle to hold close for observation and further wondering. 





The Poet

Dan Hedges currently teaches English in the Sir Wilfred Laurier School Board of Quebec. He has also taught English at Sedbergh School, and the Celtic International School. He has lived in the Yukon, Spain, Mexico, Wisconsin, Algonquin Park and Quebec. Dan runs an artist collective called Humanimalz. His poems have appeared in The Maynard, Ditch Poetry, Jones Av. Quarterly, Fortunates, Haggard and Halloo, Rigormortus, and The Camel Saloon. His work is forthcoming in The Monarch Review, Marco Polo Arts Magazine, Inertia, and Wildflower Magazine.