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samriviere: poem from ‘Kim Kardashian’s Marriage’ poetry blog,...

Thu, 16 May 2013 09:35:03 -0400

samriviere:

poem from ‘Kim Kardashian’s Marriage’

poetry blog, 2013

Sam Riviere’s latest project

Here, For Your Amusement

Wed, 08 May 2013 09:35:57 -0400

Colourwise I’m more meadow than hedgerow

though I have wooden clothes pegs and underneath

it all I’m comfortable as a smock. Less wild than a meadow.

I expect you will wonder what this is all about – well it’s wrong,

like giving names to the eggs in the box.

Here is a picture of a horse very proud of itself.

Here is a drawing of a flower, from hundreds of years ago

– you will still find such flowers in the garden! There is something

you will want to understand in these pictures,

so you spend time with them. Perhaps that’s what it’s about.

I would like to be able to make a very nearly complete list,

of everything that matters to me, leaving nothing out.

Is that what it’s like to be afraid to die? Also

to have the most inquisitive eyes and see beauty beauty

beauty pick away at the wallowing mortar.

To know the composure of a closed clam.

Photo

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 05:11:44 -0400

Photo

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 20:24:36 -0400

Even I Sometimes Press the Beauty Spot on my Face as if it Were a Reset Button

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 07:48:31 -0400

and if I could for just one minute lift my head from its dead daffodil slouch and stop delaying life I might find the magic chink in my self doubt that its possible to walk straight through and I’ll be hydroponically charged drowned in UV light and I’ll feel only in the merest possible terms and my eyes will flourish like ranunculus friends will be waiting for me at the party in the form of a human pyramid and at the shore when the boat sets sail we will sing Nick Drake’s ‘Northern Sky’ and it’ll seem as though we could eat the starlight and starlight tastes like sorbet and inflorescence and less like snow than you’d think now it’s mandatory to travel after dark and for once you fall asleep in someone’s arms without what next

Poem for Claire Trevien

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 09:12:00 -0400

Coquelicot! That’s how I’d describe your hair,

like how I’d imagine a cosmocrat’s to look –

absolute pigment, primed for plumes and space minerals.

I love how I can always locate you in a vociferous

room and that you’re more costume than wardrobe. Not

everyone can be as you are, and that’s as well as a tucked in sheet.

Tell me I’m buttoned up the right way. That we will never not

reason it’s okay to fall asleep on a stranger’s shoulder before the projection

ends and we’re blinked into being. We both know what’s more

virtue than obligation and there’s always a stash of gin

in the teapot because at times the obligations necessitate

endurance. Not once, but three times I have thought to call you at

night. Check I am still the way I am, and need not be.

I am writing these acrostic poems to raise money for Comic Relief. Please sponsor me here.

Poem for Heather Phillipson

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 07:47:20 -0500

Hocus and Pocus died not of over-feeding (as we’d first thought), it seems

every goldfish in town went that night – pouf! – and no one, not even the

academics, have reached an agreeable hypothesis as to why.

Tiny’s lips set against me. Apparently, I was blame not just for this but all

heightened drama so keen I was for anything. Still, the Great Goldfish Demise

entered our cosy folklore and we rarely passed months without

relating the story to each other The Goldfish! we’d squeal, as though it were

possible to save them. At the Macintosh-makers’ Fete, we won three more –

Hocus II, Pocus II and Splashy. I’ll admit

it was hard to tell who was who. We

looked at them elaborately, measured then

listed their quirks and flourishes.

Isolde also drew portraits, so as to supplement our

photographic records which has failed to capture the

singularity of each. Pocus II was akin to a 1960s

orange wallpaper print. Splashy has a needier, more contemporary look.

Not that it made a difference which was which, if I am being honest.

Photo

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 15:51:16 -0500

LITTLE GIRLS SOMETIMES

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 12:07:17 -0500

walk too fast without checking where they are going and wander off without their mummy they are not allowed to do that they must be able to see their mummy at all times and little girls will one day become big girls and when they are they will let their little sisters wear their clothes because they will be in big girls clothes and when they are a big girl they will be allowed to have hot drinks and will be allowed to go to the shops on their own but little girls must always look where they are going and not let their mummy out of their sight and they must memorise their address and must not talk to strangers and little girls sometimes get sick because they eat too many sweets and then their mummy doesn’t like them to have sweets anymore and says they can only have a sweet if they finish their lunch first and even then only fruit and if they are naughty they will be sent to bed without anything at all little girls must sit properly this means knees together and they must not twirl their hair gawp snort they must wash their hands and tidy up after themselves sometimes little girls take things they’re not supposed to and wear mummy’s jewellery without asking they make their eyes goes square by watching too much tv and its greedy to ask for more little girls sometimes tell fibs it’s wrong to lie it’s not polite to eat with your mouth open and it’s wrong to tell tales and it’s wrong to shout and it’s naughty to take things that do not belong to you

Camellia Stafford talks about her forthcoming collection of poetry

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 08:28:00 -0500

What is the working title of your book?

The original working title is a line from a poem: if you want to hear music en route, you have to sing. Feedback deemed this title to be too long and too cliche, bringing me back to reality. Briefly I had a Letters to the Sky phase. I’ve not completely rejected that but currently The Butterfly Stroke is my favourite. The ridiculous and partly to be blamed on tipsy conversation with Roddy Lumsden and Amy Key range from And Your Hair Is Devastating to Kitten Lover, Kitten Killer.

Where did the idea for the book come from?

I’ve been writing poems since I was a kid and once embarrassingly ran out of my GCSE art exam to rescue my poems, having remembered suddenly that I had left them on top of the lockers rather than securely in my locker. I wasn’t thinking ‘book’ back then nor for many years afterwards but I knew poetry was at the heart of things for me.

What genre does your book fall under?

Poetry

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

The entire cast of My So-Called Life should appear in a range of cameos especially Brian Krakow. Gwyneth Paltrow, strictly in the style of her Margot Tenenbaum portrayal from The Royal Tenenbaums and Kate Hudson strictly reprising her Almost Famous character, Penny Lane, will take centre stage. Beatrice Dalle as Betty Blue would fulfil elements of my darker moments. A young David Bowie could play the antique porcelain figurine in my poem Figure with Bindle beautifully.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

A sentient tale accented with fashion, make up, skating, dancing, night-owling and bathing.

Tim Wells recently described my work to me as “all fairies and pretty, pretty but with a lot more to it than that.”

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Salt Publishing is publishing it.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Poems included in the manuscript stretch as far back as the late 1990s but the majority of the work is from the last five years.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I’d like to compare it to Emily Jane Brontë’s Collected Poems, a Penguin book I’ve had for many years, loved and love.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I’m inspired by art, friendship, London town, film, love and family. I have various muses, all close friends, who play an integral role in many poems. Through poetry, I’ve become friends with and been guided by wonderful people, Roddy Lumsden, Michael Donaghy, Annie Freud, Patrick Brandon, all of whom have inspired me to write more and to try to get better at it.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

The book is an invitation into my private world.

The Next Big Thing

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 04:16:00 -0500

Emily Berry tagged me in the next big thing project, where writers talk about their new projects. You can read her responses here. I’ve already been tagged but because I am so contrary I am going to answer the questions again to test the constancy of my thinking.

What is the working title of your book?

For a while I was working with ‘To Be Her Pavilion’. Now I’m not sure. Suggested titles include ‘Morphine Ballet’. ‘Luxe’ and ‘Poem To A Clothes Rail’.

Where did the idea for the book come from?

The book brings together my poems, so there isn’t really an ‘idea’ behind the book. There are recurring themes – imagined improbable and probably maddening boyfriends, inconsistent relationships, the use of clothing and food and ornamentation and things to speak through. More recently other characters have developed – a female anti-muse and an older woman, inspired by the children’s book character Grandmother Lucy.

What genre does your book fall under?

Poetry

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I’d like Lena Dunham as Lena Dunham, Kirsten Dunst in Marie Antionette-mode and Amy Adams from Enchanted. A range of classic male film stars to include George Peppard in Breakfast at Tiffanys, alongside Ed Westwick in his Chuck Bass incarnation. There would probably also be walk-ons by 60s icons Anna Karina, Marianne Faithfull, Francoise Hardy. I’d like to have set design by Anthea Hamilton, Julie Verhoeven and Coco Chanel.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Ornamental tiling salvaged from a derelict townhouse.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

It will be published by Salt Publishing.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I’m still finalising the manuscript, but it’s likely to span the last five years of writing.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I am not sure. Camellia Stafford’s book will be published at the same time as mine. We’re very different, but we have the same sort of iconography in our work. I think they’d sit nicely on the shelf together and comb each other’s hair.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

A passage from Zelda Fitzgerald’s Save Me The Waltz.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Even if you don’t like poetry there’s enough food and dresses in it to transcend the genre. Also, if you fancy looking at my manuscript and have a title idea I may use it!

I’m going to tag:

Camellia Stafford

Message for tagged authors: Rules of the Next Big Thing

***Use this format for your post

***Answer the ten questions about your current work in progress

***Tag five other writers/bloggers and add their links so we can hop over and meet them.

Poem on Janine’s Birthday

Thu, 28 Feb 2013 10:54:16 -0500

Just as I woke, you stomped into my head
and I thought of everything that makes me admire you:
not just your sass and nerve, (although
it does deserve an explicit mention ) but how
Neverland it is to spend time with you, like a pop-up theme park –
each day can be abundant with vivid wants,

like how you’re era-less, confident as a portrait,
inconsolably hungry, you talk easy as an adult –
seems even your glamour isn’t at the top of my list,
admiration being such an intimate reckoning of a

friend. If I can’t say it now, birthday girl, when?
Oh, there’s nothing ordinary about decadent warmth
real as foxgloves and glow sticks and winter birds,
did I tell you how much I want you to dance with me?

Spoilt Victorian Child

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 08:03:00 -0500

past the trees, fairies spoilt sugarcake

past the stairs, servant smocked in grey

past the butterfly shrug (fearful babes)

past tiger-cheek disfigured with rouge

past green trees toxic cakes

past the aqueduct iced with pox

past stairs of books avoid the mirror

past the reflection the child

But we can’t marry each other

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 07:02:04 -0500

who’d pick up the bills? And people would look at us

and think: cousins? But I am thankful that it’s ok to use you as prop

and aren’t you just a packet of Ras El Hanout? Makes everything

taste better. I didn’t like the idea of you with someone

but I saw you together and nothing quickened. You have to test these things,

the heart can be both prissy and pudgy. Apparently not looking for it

makes all the difference. I don’t need to say these things,

I’m quite desperately readable, isn’t that decadent of me!

We’re ok, like pockets sewn up.

I sleep better at night knowing you would though.

Knowing someone would.

Emotional State Seen Through A Pale-Haired Fringe

Thu, 21 Feb 2013 09:31:05 -0500

Emotional State Seen Through A Pale-Haired Fringe

m58: I can’t remember the last time I had sex (Whitehall Jackal...

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 05:42:36 -0500

m58:

I can’t remember the last time I had sex (Whitehall Jackal Endpaper #2) by Chris McCabe.

Issue Two Poems In Which

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 17:35:26 -0500

Issue Two Poems In Which:

Issue two of my poetry journal Poems In Which is now live. Edited by me and Nia Davies and featuring new work from 26 poets including Fran Lock, Jen Campbell, Tim Wells, Mark Burnhope, Kirsten Irving, W.N. Herbert and Jon Stone.

Pretty Please

Fri, 25 Jan 2013 07:18:21 -0500

In the yard there’s waning snow

like clabbered milk, but mentally

I’m in an August-bleached field

and you have threshed a stalk of grain

for me to drink my cider

through. We identify as summer people.

There each lowered tone lifts,

burs caught on our socks are the sand

walked home from the beach. A suite

of songs sing California.

At night I prefer you lax – on, not under,

a blanket. When it’s still warm, though the sky’s

eye shadow caught in a crease, season

the rum with honey and lime and just let me be

your childhood crush. I want to not know

what to do; whether a kiss is on too high a shelf.

Penning Perfumes: Three questions for Camellia Stafford

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 12:04:01 -0500

Penning Perfumes: Three questions for Camellia Stafford:

penningperfumes:

Camellia Stafford’s pamphlet another pretty colour, another break for air is published by tall lighthouse. Her first collection of poems is forthcoming from Salt Publishing this autumn. Her poems are due to appear in Oxford Poetry, Magma and The Pre-Raphaelite Society Spring Review. She will be…

Reply In Which (After Sarah Crewe)

Sat, 19 Jan 2013 18:53:15 -0500

I mention lately I’ve lacked a honeyed mood,

delicates have evaded me. Again I’ve spent too much

trying to ornamentally tile my life. The sofa’s worn

down where I always sit and though my diary’s

clogging up I don’t know how to project.

I am ashamed to want a someone. Social

engagements are propelled by wine,

as unease goes up, eyeliner goes on. Sometimes

I imagine you in your kitchen, stirring soup.

Sometimes I make broth and pretend it will work.

Darling, it seems there’s no awning

to shelter under. Or perhaps I’m under the awning

unable to step out. Someone might cake crumb

a path for me but it doesn’t do to rely on others

to ice your day. I can see the dead roses

are as pretty as the live, appliqué

sleep to my brittle concerns. I have an aspiration

you will recognise my handwriting, in time.