beautiful monsters: molten myrrh

January 06, 2005

molten myrrh

Excuse the sudden lack of pictures. It may be because I haven’t given Orcon any money… I’ll try and do something about that. Soon.

So today was the first class of the Iowa Workshop, and the coordinator, Megan, seems entirely nice. Though she did threaten to wear the same pants all semester (her luggage got stuck in LA). We did the weirdest exercise – we were given a poem in a language we don’t speak, and we had to sound it out, try and turn it into recognisable English words, and then make a poem out of it. I was given one in German, by Rilke. It ended up as:

I am molten
myrrh flows freely
Prague in white, ruined.
Tie ribbons in the fountain, stunned
by loss, may Christ forebear.
Distant verse, swim through winter glass
oak wine tears
feed this ragged clear worm
I grin in spangled ruins
tin shines under light
fear knows I’m swollen.

Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make much sense. It made even less before – I took out a few words that just wouldn’t fit.

I’m in the first group getting workshopped, and we have to write a poem by Friday. As in… tomorrow. Arrrgh! No exercise or anything, just “write a poem.” I have no idea how to start. I can’t remember how to write. I’ve been trying an exercise where you cut a page of writing into pieces, and rearrange them randomly, and then, without adding words but crossing out some, you make it into a poem. It hasn’t really turned into one yet:

Mario lit a bottle of pineapple wine, smoke leaked between the trees
We crouched beside the shack - I don’t think he noticed my small tears

Beni whispered a few times and jerked off beside me. I lay, listening to the shack creak. When the first birds woke I pretended to sleep, wrapped tightly, wind and animals snuffling outside. I waited.

Finally he seemed to lose.
The jungle grinned. Firelight in my mind.
A tangle of trees in the largest potholes.
Beni and his arms.

Posted by Fionnaigh at January 6, 2005 01:28 AM | TrackBack


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