in your enchanted
bloodened sweat
lifted from the head
& heart plotted
from terminus
is not appointed
from the head
beatified friend,
harp-blood
of our found
& fondest
consonance
wound’s winnow...
is not appointed
from the head
Wednesday, 24 November 2021
Tuesday, 16 November 2021
Filling up / Particular Rooms
Not posted here in a while. Hello. Hi to all you folks who comment on my blog posts. I hope your love spells and potions are bringing you wealth and gigantic genitals. You filthy lot.
I've been writing something which is currently not shareable - mainly because it is huge and unwieldy in quite a new way. I've been going to one particular room with a large black book and writing with a very tiny nib. Here are some unreadable notebook pages.
I'm also making prints of some of the ink / typewriter / watercolour pieces I've posted on this blog before. Drop me an email (verityspott(at)gmail.com) if you are interested in getting one. They are fifteen quid a pop which is the low end of what art friends suggested and at the higher end of what I think is just a bit more than okay. Happy to do reductions if that's too pricey, or deals for sets.
Wednesday, 6 October 2021
Celebrity Solstice
When Sun had closed his eye,
heave, my precious, heave away!
to the drift. O, Who are you?
A Ghost? O, hooks away so
Who is that in the water? O, heave a-No. No. No.
O, bow to the horizon
steal away, steal away,
then you are O,
my yacht (IMO: 8913320)
haul away!
(Position Received: 2021-10-05 21:46 UTC)
and I am general cargo drift away, ah, (IMO:
9229178) heave my darlings, heave away!
(Position Received: 2021-10-05 21:19 UTC)
o, will they name us new o, away!
aye we row! in six old rights we go
from every trace
of the old
o, strip away, anew, strip away strip away!
a purging of the decks
and a glass upon my bow
to the four wind gods an O! Away we go!
Thursday, 16 September 2021
Late Night Poem - (near the end of Summer, 15.09.2021)
that your children meet the day
in the new world banned music
even the timber, still, and as ready
I was for you to die, my darling dog,
that they go to the schools who are
they now, chutes of love & violent,
totally, (we know. but are made to watch
again & again what dying away
is) it okay to pull the screen?
I can’t bear to see; even friendship
that I’ve failed so much too, remembers
the day snaps it is failed to weep stuck it
goes on: Into the night, Toll, but it is still
past paralysis, of cell. Quiet, care
shifts knowing there is some
real work left. It is so vital,
after the self that works in the night
still flat, as all; were scrambled to the helm.
Wednesday, 21 July 2021
Monday, 19 July 2021
Wednesday, 7 July 2021
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