London Poetry Systems is, in their own words, an open cross-media poetry organisation committed to showcasing poetry in performance both at their multimedia live events and growing online archive.
During the next event Alastair Cook, Luca Nasciuti and I will show and perform several of our video- and filmpoems. It's going to be a blast (I hope)
Henry Stead (poet, translator and classicist) "My research is in the reception of classical culture in the Modern world." is the co-founder and director of LPS.
Henry is also joining us on stage. He will do a live reading against the backdrop of a new videopoem I made for one of his poems.
Another slow day
After contemplating ceilings
and what kind of creative genius I was
I stood on my feet
turned on the light
ate sunflower seeds and homegrown
gooseberries from a cage in the garden
sliced off my ears with a butcher's blade
so that I might better collect bee-like
the anesthetic honey from a Durex Performa
to soothe the pain in my head
I stopped and listened
My nicotine white smoke alarm
spoke out again and again shrill
but like it was in a rubber jar said
DO NOT PAINT
I googled NOT PAINTER
it came up with Frank O'Hara
"I am not a painter, I am a poet"
I read it a hundrehundred thousand times
all I know for sure is
I smoked a cigarette and thump
was told that smoking kills and thump
harms people around me
I'm alone but I couldn't swear to that
the blood where my ears were
keeps me warm like shirodhara thump
I can no longer feel the urgency of advice
I look down and thump
the floor is painted red like really red
like fire engine red and thump
I've written nothing and thump
no one's coming
After contemplating ceilings
and what kind of creative genius I was
turned on the light
ate sunflower seeds and homegrown
gooseberries from a cage in the garden
sliced off my ears with a butcher's blade
so that I might better collect bee-like
the anesthetic honey from a Durex Performa
to soothe the pain in my head
I stopped and listened
My nicotine white smoke alarm
spoke out again and again shrill
but like it was in a rubber jar said
DO NOT PAINT
I googled NOT PAINTER
it came up with Frank O'Hara
"I am not a painter, I am a poet"
all I know for sure is
I smoked a cigarette and thump
was told that smoking kills and thump
harms people around me
I'm alone but I couldn't swear to that
the blood where my ears were
keeps me warm like shirodhara thump
I can no longer feel the urgency of advice
I look down and thump
the floor is painted red like really red
like fire engine red and thump
I've written nothing and thump
no one's coming
The music I used for this one founds its origin in this older track I had:
To go with the almost languid reading I wanted images that expressed some kind of restlessness, boredom and even sulk. Once I had those, the video practically made itself...
Anyway, enjoy;
words & voice: Henry Stead
concept, camera, editing & music: Swoon
Thanks: Katrijn Clemer
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