spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 12th, 2016 07:26 am)

Frank Montesonti’s erasure prompt was a bit trickier

My source is from « Sécurité et Défense de l’UE – Textes Fondamentaux 2008 – Volume IX » - collected by Catherine Glière.
The reading key is green, pink, yellow (yellow and dark green using the same starting words)

Selections photo coloured erasure.jpg

The largest denuclearisation process reiterates the cooperation of six parties
Is significant phase
The latest nuclear programmes step forward

spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 12th, 2016 07:15 am)
Catching up with the help of the library at work, which has old (technical) books to give away - so perfect for erasure type of poems

Kristina Marie Darling told us to looks for meaning behind the written words.

My source is from Online Information in Europe by Baudouin Durieux

Erasure photo erasure.jpg
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 11th, 2016 01:56 pm)
Matt Trease asked us to do an Astrological Self-portrait!
Then it gets complicated (not to mention a little weird - but then again is IS a self portrait, so THAT makes sense)

Unless other indications in the chart point to it,
Her sun represents creative energy
[Sextile, irresponsible, and square]
That plagues those with
Angry infectious optimism.

Leave Moon things to chance:
It’s generally easy if sometimes tactless
To forgive when offering opinions.

A little kooky dreamer, who lets herself be seduced
Fascinated with how people work, secrets,
Hard to miss yet quick to forget, utterly incomplete
Especially when adept at warm-hearted satire
Usually likes to have her own occult ways.

Portrait of the author in Charles Avery's Mirror Piece
These were about erasure and I did not have any material (or time) to play with, so I am pushing these aside for the time being.
I made pasta, vitel’ tonné, vignarola, and cake instead. YOU CAN’T HAVE IT ALL.

Pomodori vestiti, crema di ricotta e pecorino, olio di basilico
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 8th, 2016 02:50 pm)
Harold Abramowitz asked us to write something you cannot remember: a memory of something – a story, an anecdote, a song, another poem, a recipe, an episode of a television program, anything, that you only partially or imperfectly remember.
(Multiple versions, at least 6, of this memory should be written)

Proportions have flown away first
Then ingredients, one by one
Leaving only ghosts and suggestions behind
This is not pastry making, the sturdy chemical art of goodness
This is alchemy at its most adventurous
Fundamental pillars faded
Lost in a decrepit crevice of my memory.

What I remember is the provocation,
The roundabout architecture of this cake.
But its memory has blended with other adventures
Making bastard cakes of Boschian quality
In a dark corner of my imagination.

Eggs for sure.
And white beans.

It has to hold together.
The architecture must be there
Or the cake would collapse.
So proteins are needed
Which is how beans came to be
Bringing moisture as well.
But the same would apply to eggs.
Something concrete is missing:
Where are the solids?
What were the walls made of?

It’s soft and moist
[My tongue can still remember that]
Just like cream baked into submission.
Vanilla sticks to the memory buds however
I cannot be sure I have not invented the almond feel
[This is worse than wine tasting]
Whence do I get this whiff of chocolate?

I could have sworn there was chocolate
It is a cake after all: what good would it be without chocolate?
And I remember the beans, of course.
How could anyone forget something as ludicrous as beans?

My mind is baked.
Thank goodness for Pinterest.

For anybody interested, I think THIS was the recipe I was trying to remember.
(But somehow I was remembering something with dark chocolate!)

spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 7th, 2016 10:37 am)
Simone Muench asked us to get autobiographical and write a cento that is a self-portrait, or anthology of our life, utilizing lines and fragments from our own work.

Out of a feverish imagination,
Acidic blood traces
Created by the friction between surge
Inside the wings of birds.

I invoke the demon’s name:
Shadows waiting to catch an eye and run to the light,
Assembling meth crystals on a chain.
[Only a way into forever.]

In a very raw and cloudy morning,
Finding green obligations to fulfil:
A panicking gold fish for a heart
In the shivers wreaking havoc on your skin.

Alcoholic rhymes and verses will be attempted
[Sharp words, sharper still memories]
While I promise to betray neither them nor you.
[None of this was ever meant to be.]
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 6th, 2016 07:31 am)
Noah Eli Gordon gave us no less than 10 prompt to work with (many I found impractical as being time consuming).
This is the one I have selected:

Write a poem comprised of a single sentence, spread across at least seven lines of no fewer than five words each. Repeat one of your lines three times, but not in succession. Include the following:
the phrase “as when the”
a scientific term
a flower’s proper name
the name of a country in South America
a person’s proper name
the phrase “which is to say”
something improper

Magnolia Grandiflora

April, too warm for words apart from
perihelion - which is to say earth and sun
behaving like twats in love -
a common occurrence as welcome as
the blooming of Magnolia Grandiflora
amongst flotsams of Panama papers or
as when the dream was my meeting with David Bowie
alive still and well behind the counter at
my local bakery at the time all the old ladies
in the neighbourhood turned into stray cats
at the blink of his screwed-up eye.
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 6th, 2016 07:26 am)
Sarah Blake was really quirky and asked us to pick a song that we’d find dynamic, track its moves and try to replicate that movement with a poem.
(where quirky is borderline sadistic – in a fun way)

This is going to take me a while so bear with me and have a picture of Rome, while you wait

spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 5th, 2016 02:32 pm)
Woody Leslie challenged us to do wordblocks!
The challenge is also technical so I have ran to for help
I chose “recipe” as my starting point

 photo wordle 2.png
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 5th, 2016 12:48 pm)
Nico Vassilakis has asked us to do some creative staring..

My first reaction was "Impossible!"
So that's what I have worked with.

















spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 2nd, 2016 04:48 pm)
 Today'prompt is from Collier Nogues. It calls for a bit of spam or official letters and for a handful of poems.

I have plenty of terse official sounding writing in the office but, right now, I am at home having tea.
So I made do with spam from AirBnB and used wonderful images from Rachel's "Left Writing" to replace the boring nouns in the spam mail. 

The original bore:

Our business and our community have grown significantly in the last year, so we’re updating our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy. We’ve also updated our payments terms and moved them from the Terms of Service into a new Payments Terms of Service. These changes will be effective for all existing customers by THu. 


Monologue and angels 
Have grown significantly in our wrinkled script, 
Flaws updating stream of dreams 
And heroine nightmares.
Concentration headaches 
Have also edited our prose wonderland
Moved them from candlelights 
Into a new fire of streamlined brains.
These pebbles will be effective for all existing nightmares by Thursday.

spacedlaw: (Default)
( Apr. 1st, 2016 09:37 am)
Another mad month of mad poetry, offered by The Found Poetry Review for NAPOMO 2016!

Today’s prompt is from Patrick Williams, who has built a nifty prompt generator for participants to play with.

The one I have chosen is the following: Find fifteen words from these two pages to begin the lines of a (fifteen-line) poem entitled "Driftwood & Chronology."

Except that when I clicked on the page link I got nowhere much apart from: “This item is not available online ( Limited - search only) due to copyright restrictions.”
There were at least 15 words available on that page, so there we go:

Driftwood & Chronology

Bottom arcane mysteries or an excess of rouge lost in
specific depictions dancing off restored walls
matching – or not - forgotten words in a dead language

To presume upon the past in the Villa of Mysteries
can cause dizziness and much confusion
especially if seeking definite answers in shrouds of ashes

Due diligence or manners venture out, disappear
to seek solace in the absence of sense and light
Limited meanings to flickering shadows of the past

This madness is open to so much interpretation
Help and books differ, bicker and disagree,
Learn to look over and past a dead god’ shoulder

Restrictions are announced on a nearby sign though
Inside the sanctuary madness is worth more than words
The broken reflections of our dying sun yet another twist

For some reason, the prompt taking my mind back to a recent visit to Pompeii...

Villa dei Misteri
Not sure I ever posted this one here.

Do you fear the moon Flashback to 2013...

The Skinny was created by Truth Thomas in the literary crucible of the Tony Medina Poetry Workshop at Howard University.
A Skinny is a short poem in eleven lines.

The first and eleventh lines can be any length. All the others are just one word.
The eleventh and last line must be repeated using the same words from the first and opening line (but not necessarily in the same order).
The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical.

Truth has built a blog where she published the form

I find the form fascinating.
My favourite is “Fall” by Shloka Shankar


And here's mine, in English and some sort of translation in French.

Have also some celebratory sunrise:

More morning effulgence
It was a short stay but nice

Evening stroll at Noordwijk's beach
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Sep. 14th, 2015 07:46 am)
British artist Thea Gilmore has published a new song on Bandcamp to benefit refugee camps:

You can buy this track for as little as 1£.
Do consider a donation.
spacedlaw: (Default)
( Aug. 25th, 2015 02:07 pm)
Yeah, I know: As a title, that’s a trifle generic.
However, even if the version I am about to document hereinafter is a fig tart, that recipe works for any juicy fruit, so I suppose the recipe is fairly generic. And slightly incorrect too, as tarts go [insert improper tart jokes here]

Fig Tart

What happens here is a rising brisée soaking up the juices of a spare layer of fruits. So strictly too high to be a real tart, too thick a dough to be cake, too moist to be biscuit (also only cooks once if you want to be pedantic about what a biscuit really is). However…

You know what? I don’t care. Call it anything you like. I call it SIMPLE and I call it GOOD. FRUITY is adequate too.

So what does it take?

An oven heated up at 200c

260g flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
3 tablespoons of sugar
6 tablespoons of cream (the fluid type)
150g butter
A pinch of salt
A dusting of cinnamon (or vanilla)

Mix all this and pour into a parchment-lined deep dish.
Cut some fruits in half or segment (here figs, collected from a tree we have at work, are cut in two – that works fine with small fruits like cherries, plums, apricots, or figs. For things like peaches or rhubarb, segments work better)
Lay them on top of the dough, pressing the fruits gently into the paste – only partially as the dough will rise.
Cook in the oven for about 30 minutes.

Fig tart

Let it cool partially or fully before cutting and eating.
Good on its own, this can be served with cream (clotted or not), mascarpone, ice cream, or even custard.
When the kids are stuck at home because of brutal heat, mayhem ensues. Bricolage


spacedlaw: (Default)


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