New poems

Three new poems. The first two are from a new series called ‘Postcards Made of Feathers’, which feature drawings from life (rather than from the depths of the psyche) presented together with poems that capture the particular moment. The third is the basis of the Axons and Dendrites piece based on a much earlier journal entry. You will notice some threads linking these poems.

This Empty Moment

by Rrose Sélavy, Postcards Made of Feathers series 2009-09-14

The sound of a boiler.

Clink of unseen dishes put down carelessly.

Two alternating notes the only part of the music that makes it through the window, over the wall and down to this empty courtyard on a cooling breeze.

Empty tables beneath a square of empty sky.

A bit of wire on the trellis.


In the Gap

by Rrose Sélavy, Postcards Made of Feathers series 2009-09-21

If you are still enough,

behind the long silence

you can hear all the notes

that have been played

or will be played,


like leaves on a vine –

opened, unfurling, and yet to be born.

All moments at once

twining through the stillness,


like jewels.

Axons and Dendrites

Extract from the journals of  Rrose Sélavy

28th August 2007. Aber seafront, sunset.

Intense colour here today.

Strange that he was pretending for so long, hard to imagine what he was thinking.

Look out to sea. Thin strands of desire shoot out in all directions, wafting, attach to nothing, then trail off into wispy clouds.

The landscape overlaid with the inner world.

I’ve been in a box with no walls, need human contact.

Synapses, axons and dendrites, thin tendrils reach toward other brain cells, send a spray across the gap. Neural net buzzes as nodes light up.

The gap and the bridging of it.

The inner world overlaid with the landscape.

Extend the self, merge into the landscape…

The sea’s surface lit up like blazing mercury, wavelets seethe in patterns so complex they look random. Filigree surface, power beneath.

Bridge the gap. Connect connect connect.


One thought on “New poems

  1. Mary, I love this poem. It sounds like something from the Buddhist wisdom tradition. It also reminds me of my work, but that’s a longer conversation…xx A

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