Memory Embryo

river weaving sound-waves scintillate
emerald tide lapping ripples roll
spectral mother of pearl piers laminate over
earthen pebbles veiled in petrol gauze
limpid lamps glint
the shellac grey
to a murmuring waxen gold..

limbal ring sun cheeky snowdrops lick
refuse boats hum
hushing engines cello
glass bottles topple
slivers crack slivers click
nit-wit birds hammer icy bubble ravines
lapping insouciant feathers
get pissed then lifting off hit a postbox
david attenborough was not there..

a rare milk-float mirage illuminates off-kilter glints
an ambulance of collective memory flutters
the blind-sided bridge levitates echoing
the drenching misted shrapnel ner-ner ner-ners..
a high-viz man yearns
his bingo numbers ransack a muddled amour plan
a carton of noodles steams nought and zero curlicues
the vapour trail of music weaves over a glancing siren..

around she runs
runs on by
his jogger of venus
so oblivious and so oblivious..
a fleeting dream stemmed
an emptiness empire sheer spills and spills
powder blue escapades/ and a failed circuit break..
                                                  i must not look 
                                                  i must not look
                                                  i must not look
          ahh too late now… too. late. now..
..he smiles..

mermaid anti-freeze lip-sip
blown mirrors tummy-tumble
leaves turn to themselves as they whisper
piano diminuendo ~
in this sunken treasure lie hills
but why this winter in spring
hamster tears splash the wondering wheels
lily pads breach the hourglass
two nuns run for the bus with tadpoles
this memory embryo runs for its easel
eye crayons dip
bloom orchids
the inside sun bequeaths the tenderest grasp
this painting without any frame..

◄ Far Away In My Living Room When We Have Real 3d Television

Arachnid Death Star Vs IKEA/ I Am Starfucker Star Child ►


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suki spangles

Mon 26th Mar 2018 16:18

Thanks so.much Col.

This was actually a little bit of a creative writing exercise. A few years back I wrote a poem called Ephydriad Descending - Thames Ganges which was a full-octane magical realist comedy number about life around a small area of the river at night. Here, the poem looks at the same place during weekend sunrise.

You got it in one!


<Deleted User> (13762)

Sun 25th Mar 2018 08:47

I've been meaning to make my way back to this Suki and I'm glad I did because it's bloody marvellous. I had a feeling it was about the Thames so quite pleased with myself that I got that right when I read your comment. There's a very early morning feel to it, birds and a few humans pottering about in forgotten corners. It's all lights and shades and movements so expertly captured and pieced together perhaps from a multitude of past images captured and stored to be brought together in one whole. Top work pal.
Have a peaceful Sunday. Col.

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suki spangles

Sat 24th Mar 2018 22:13

Hi All,

Thanks so much for your feedback.

Ray, you got it in one - a light-hearted, slightly wonky description of over-lapping impressionistic scenes around the Thames, with a magical realist vibe. I think I have seen that clip of Dud on YouTube somewhere. Praise indeed!

Anya/Brian, I wouldn't worry too much about not "getting it". Really some of my "works" are a playful endeavour. I wouldn't sweat it.

By the way, I know you are both relative newcomers to WOL. so may I take this opportunity to wish you well with your writing, welcome you on board, and all the best to you this rainy weekend!


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Fri 23rd Mar 2018 14:53

Like a collision between Philleas Fogg and Monty Python Suki. All these images serve a greater purpose, juxtaposition to shock and inform in a dislocated way. Your work can remind me of a lucky dip, and it brings to mind Dud's piece about going inside Joan Crawford to find fleets of ships and a discotheque. I hope you get my reasoning (is that what it is?)

Always a pleasure!

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Brian Maryon

Fri 23rd Mar 2018 09:37

Sort of interesting. I've read it three times and still have no idea what it's about. It's probably just me.

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