2 - Impure NaPoWriMo Day 2, and I’m combining this one with my weekly forays into writing something for the Rattle Poets Respond challenge. Rattle have a very civilised (in my view) approach where poems submitted to them can be self-published online (blog, Patreon, social media, etc.), as long as they haven’t been curated elsewhere (defined as when someone else has picked them out and highlighted them for publication). Reminder, however, that, if you’re a paying Patreon of mine, you’ll see all of my NaPo poems (and only Patrons – paying or free – get the recordings of me reading them). If not, you’ll only see the ones I have no intention of saving for third party publication (where they’re more strict in their definition of “previously published”). This piece was inspired by this horrifying news story, so carries warnings for death, dereliction of duty, mourning, and a lot of grimness. It also talks reasonably openly about an aspect of the OCD I inherited from my mother – the so-called “Pure O” aspect of the condition that can be very troubling. (Shout out to Lou Sutcliffe, whose extensive infodumping earlier this evening about Chilean geology and geography – which research rabbit hole they plunged into after listening to Tlacuache Theatre’s episode on the myth of El Caluche – informed the fifth stanza, which turned up when I was typing this up from handwritten notes.) --- Link to Patreon post with recording: https://www.patreon.com/posts/nightlights-154561064 It’s interesting how quickly I slip into obscenities – not the obvious curses, the worse words learned obverse to disaster, casting this bark as tempestuous, cross, oblivious to social constructs, mores more important than scoring my rage… No, I’m talking about the images that glimmer on my inner eye, wild flashes of nastiness, beset with the grimness others have gifted reality, humanity abandoned for Mammon. That’s the real curse. Verses buck under me, cleaving these fleering demons fleeing responsibilities to their victims, living and dead. I cannot comprehend, yet am doomed to see their sins seared onto my occiput, rendered forever. It’s not new to me – inheritance from unoccupied pockets of ancestral mentation, wretched wraiths etched into inner vision, pricking with the gift of what-if risk analysis, painfully vivid, ultimately none of our business. And yet. We are not islands, this shit isn’t isolated; we are peninsular, isthmuses, archipelagos of the volcanic – product of pressures from the obvious and not-so, above and below, summoned from our molten core. And still this vision lingers – the bodies bodged, boxed wrongly, blocked from the arms and hearts of those left bereft, mendacities becoming more deft as the dead stack, backlogged in backrooms, abandoned on slabs. My brain may visualise it effortlessly, executive dysfunction can somewhat sympathise, but my heart can’t comprehend how they could end this way, weighing dismay and coming up with nothing – not even a stab at apology. And so obscenity devolves to mystery, glimpses of waste parading naked to my inner eye, defilement surrendering nothing but shame, and new fuel for nightmares, wondering where else bears this banal banishment of basic decency that shan’t be laid to rest. image of Paris catacombs courtesy of “Mustang Joe” on Flickr (found originally unattributed via picryl)

Latest piece: 2 - Impure: NaPoWriMo Day 2, and I’m combining this one with my weekly forays into writing something for the Rattle Poets Respond challenge. Rattle have a very civilised (in my view) approach where poems submitted to them can be… #currentaffairs #napowrimo #news #pureo #rattle

Sympathetic Resonance I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the news. Since these are going to go out of date very quickly, I’ve decided that, when they’re rejected, they’ll get posted on my Patreon (and, a few days later, here). I once took a short course in music therapy – if I hadn’t left Cardiff, I was planning on going into it as a career – and this news article really struck me, both as a musician, and someone who studied neuroscience as part of my first degree. (We can debate the merits of such a small subject pool another time.) The response piece is a Liwuli, a short, south-east Asian literary form that lends itself to cryptic/ mystical/ philosophical approaches, with its insistence on both giving directions and asking questions. --- Stare into each other’s eyes; blind yourself to the possibility of loss; connection is everything, and you are still here. The beat goes on; synapses hold hands; and we are taken. Now you know, can it ever sound the same? --- If you fancy having a go at writing one of these liwulis yourself, why not try my handy-dandy tool here? Let me know how you get on! Spectrogram of me singing in harmony

New poem: Sympathetic Resonance: I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the news.… #music #neuroscience #newpoem #news #rattle

Nos Ipsos Servamus I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the news. Since these are going to go out of date very quickly, I’ve decided that, when they’re rejected, they’ll get posted on my Patreon (and, a few days later, here). I’ve been ill again recently, so only properly clocked the time with a couple of hours to spare before the deadline for this… On Monday, I was all set to talk scathingly about entertainment news and then… over the last few days several famous people died who had hoards of devoted fans and some terrible views and actions to their names (as well as the less celebrated who appear thoroughly blameless, even worthy). We keep being told not to speak ill of especially the freshly dead, but, even when it’s family or friends, I’ve always found it difficult not to look at every aspect of who they were, the full layers of their legacy. In the UK, it took nearly a year after his death for people to be allowed to reveal the full monstrosity of Jimmy Savile, and I think that fetishisation of celebrities for whom we develop parasocial feelings is still very much a problem. Nos Ipsos Servamus translates roughly as “we save ourselves”, and the poem is in the form of a rondo redoublé. --- In solemn tones we mark them: blessèd souls; the ones who go before us, bear the tales, while we, in turn, must choose to shoulder roles until it’s time for us to test the scales. But God forbid that on the night they sail we dare to run adrift on bitter shoals. (We must not speak aloud of any ‘fails’!) In solemn tones we mark them: blessèd souls. Bring down the flags, so they divide the poles, and let the heavens ring with sacred wails, as, in our hearts, we guard the tight-bound scrolls: the ones who went before us bear the tales… But later? Well, now common sense prevails, permitting heels to turn and check the soles of those departed (now it won’t hurt sales…) while we, in turn, must choose to shoulder roles. To pass the test of time? a solid goal. It’s best to keep the buck and carry pails of our own crap and pay the debts we owe until it’s time for us to test the scales. Entitlement talks loudly, posts the bails for those who live above us foolish proles. The ones who fight to tell their honest tales? Now they’re the folks to whom we owe our souls. In solemn tones we mark them. --- If you fancy having a go at writing one of these Rondeaux Redoublé yourself, why not try my handy-dandy tool here? Let me know how you get on! Transfer of ashes of Voltaire to the Pantheon (1791) via Wikipedia The words under the title of the picture read: “Il est digne de recevoir les honneurs décernée aux grands hommes. La Cérémonie du Triomphe de Voltaire a eu lieu le Lundi 11 Juillet 1791. Cet hommage rendu aux talents d’un grand Homme, a l’Autour de la Henriade.” which translates to “He is worthy of receiving the honors bestowed upon great men. The Ceremony of Voltaire’s Triumph took place on Monday, July 11, 1791. This tribute was paid to the talents of a great man, the author of the Henriade.”

New poem: Nos Ipsos Servamus: I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the… #cultofcelebrity #death #news #poetsrespond #rattle

Physician, Heal Thyself... I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the news. Since these are going to go out of date very quickly, I’ve decided that, when they’re rejected, they’ll get posted on my Patreon (and, a few days later, here). Too depressed to write about the ongoing Are We All Gonna Die This Month? situation this week, I’ve been looking in the less front-page articles, and was struck by one entitled “AI advised someone to stick garlic where the sun don’t shine”. The article is actually more wide-ranging, more alarming, and more clinical than the headline suggests, but the initial premise triggered this two-part triolet, tongue tucked firmly in cheek: --- I can’t believe that, in this day and age, we must debunk this kind of wild advice… Sure, I’m no kind of therapeutic sage, but I can’t believe that, in this day and age, you would assume a robot is a mage! (though I won’t judge, in case that’s just a vice) I can’t believe that, in this day and age, we must unkink this kind of wild advice. Its sources are the loudest shouts around; the best you can expect: an eggy face. These tropes are fundamentally unsound: its sources are the loudest shouts around. (Please don’t wedge garlic somewhere so profound!) I wonder at the runners in this race... Their sources are the loudest shouts around – the best you can expect: an eggy face. --- If you'd like to have a go at writing your own triolet, you can get support from my totally handcrafted, no-ai-involved spreadsheet for repeating and concrete forms. Have fun! Picture of garlic courtesy of picryl.com

New poem: Physician, Heal Thyself...: I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired… #genai #healthandsafety #news #poetsrespond #rattle

@melsweets.bsky.social

Im actually gagged - 🤯

Commission of my beautiful Winged Lamia Llamanthia 😍
This is my new desktop background immediately
.
#lamia #gold #goldwings #wings #twintails #green #snake #bigboobs #bodyhorror #stretch #nature #beautiful #commission #medieval #renaissance #rattle

'Rock Rattle', raku fired stoneware, $50. What's shaking? #rattle #nanwollman #wollmanstudios.com #romerohousepotters   #smallsculpture

'Blue Diamond Rattle', raku fired stoneware, $69. A sweetie? #rattle #nanwollman #wollmanstudios.com
#sculptureart #smallsculpture #contemporaryart #sculpturemagazine #sculpture #sculptureartists #tucsonarizona #femaleartist #femaleartists

ITS DONE!!!! Now, tell me. Do yall perfer it full of Legos or Perler Beads? I threw this video together real quick. (Some pics down below [ft. my cat]) #abdl #little #3Dprint #rattle #agere

I've decided I will now #instantly #vaporize from my #watch #lists any #movie or #series that uses any word that starts with #apocalyp..., or #dystopian. As far as I am concerned those are code words for "a #moron with the #IQ of a #rattle wants you to turn off your #brain."

I can't stand to look at Trump : Can't stand his whinny voice :
can't stand his lies ... He made me what I am : "Rattled"... #Photography #Photography(New #Rattle #Politics

Michael Norris and “Rerenga”: an extraordinary journey — Five Lines The five masterpieces on this new Rattle album, RERENGA, confirm Michael Norris as one of New Zealand’s most significant living composers.

A new album, Rerenga, from New Zealand composer @michael-norris.bsky.social and #Rattle. Five profound and compelling masterpieces, brilliant performances and top-drawer production values. My Five Lines review - have a read and a listen. #NZSO #NZTrio #Stroma #TaongaPūoro #throatsinging

I made this rattle for my son when he was born. Turns out it was way too big. When he was little, he couldn’t really play with it… and when he got bigger, it became a full-on club 😅

Should I redesign it and make a better one for baby Harper? Let me know in the comments 👇

#woodturning #baby #rattle