Friday, 29 June 2012

Three Poems by Frances Presley


b


burning bush barely burning
barely bush angel flame of fire
behold the bush burned and was
not consumed out of the midst of
the bush called unto her i am that i am

bring them up into land whose
unashamed blush brush sporadic
red rain lost art of plastic wrappers
rarely seen splash of robin red breast
mate silver grey down breadth in the acer

red palmate held against maple
age spots dark cells and white veins
put your hand into your breast come out
leprous as snow come out as flesh do not
go into another land you are here burning

from Alphabet for Alina (Five Seasons Press, 2012 forthcoming)


Caratacus stone 

‘failure is not an option’ 

I

leans sideways
 at an awkward angle
  this is not the way to strain

    gradual ceding
     call it quits
      double or quits

        my double trouble
         character gouged
          smooth mouthed

            leaning tower
             kept leaning
              lean times

                monitored always
                 identify me with N
                  for nepus
               
               

                 

C

                  
                  A

                  
                  R

                 


Ā

                  
                  A




                  C


                 
I

       
        
             
           
     
              
                   chipped off
                    the block
                     pasted back
                      with pale pink gum
               
               

                   



E

                  P

                  U

                  S               
             
           
24 June 2007

II

 ‘The stone is so remote from railways, and the ways of Latinists, that it has hardly ever been seen by an epigraphist’
It is impossible to clearly show the inscription by means of an untouched photograph. So that the sizes and shapes of the letters, and the spacing of the inscription, can be readily seen, they have been outlined at the expense of naturalness
CARĀACI or Caratacus - Welsh national hero of early Roman days, taken in chains to Rome, where, according to Roman historians, he was given his liberty because they were impressed by his fearless bearing
NEPUS = Nepos (Romano-British reading) Sister’s son, descendent, kinsman, son, grandson, nephew
One of the pieces was distinctly inscribed with  
and exactly fitted the fracture immediately preceding the EPVS. The N was cut reversed – a not uncommon error even nowadays
It is to a local hillman, unversed in archaeology, we must turn for the key to the re-discovery of the missing for its jealous protection during many months, and for its fixing to the inscription in the exact position and with commendable skill
Carat – represents the passive participle of the verb, which is in Welsh car-u, to love

from Alfred Vowles ‘The history of the Caratacus stone’ (1939)

How2
("reversed N" should be just integrated in flow of text in part II; but not allowed by Blogger!) 



OCTOBER

ON NORTH HILL


bless test
mess of leaves
wings will not make
                                                    serious
                                                    back pack
                                                    stride
fern returns
leaf crisps
clenched
hear
here

                ~                      ~
break               stop                  wave
make it return
a flick of the wrist
she hasn’t got
yet


            who has not built
            a house

            will now no longer
            will not build

                                                                                no nay never
                                                                                or some version
                                                                                on the march
                                                                                against
                                                                                war


            no more
            builds now
            who has not yet
            who has not built
            yet builds now
            bilds


(this is the dialogue of memory)


bird rattle
sun slats
through dry leaves

like the turning
segments
of glass
at Foreland Point
occulting the optic



                                                                white outriders

                                                                                            over ride the line


from Myne: New and Selected Poems & Prose 1976-2005 (Shearsman, Exeter, 2006)

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A VERY QUICK INTRODUCTION TO THE POETRY OF FRANCES PRESLEY (reading & talking about her poetry at 7.30, July 4, Coffee Corner cafe, Bishops Stortford)



Frances Presley was born in Derbyshire, grew up in Lincolnshire and Somerset, and lives in north London.  She studied modern literature at the universities of East Anglia and Sussex, writing dissertations on Pound, Apollinaire, and Bonnefoy.  She worked on community development and anti-racism projects, and also at the Poetry Library.  She collaborated with artist Irma Irsara in a multi-media project about clothing and the fashion trade, Automatic Cross Stitch (Other Press, 2000); and with poet Elizabeth James in an email text and performance, Neither the One nor the Other (Form Books, 1999).  The title sequence of Paravane: new and selected poems, 1996-2003 (Salt, 2004) was a response to 9/11/2001, and the IRA bombsites in London.  Myne: new and selected poems and prose, 1976-2005, (Shearsman, 2006) takes its title from the old name for Minehead in Somerset.  Lines of Sight, (Shearsman, 2009), includes an approach to the Neolithic stone sites on Exmoor, part of a multi-media collaboration with Tilla Brading, published in 2010 as Stone Settings (Odyssey Books & Other Press).  Presley has written various essays and reviews, especially on innovative British women poetsHer work is included in the recent anthologies Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets (edited Carrie Etter, Shearsman, 2010), and A Ground Aslant – Radical Landscape Poetry (edited Harriet Tarlo, Shearsman, 2011)
Her poetry is marked by its high seriousness of intent and theme, made lively by her constant innovations in style and presentation, and a quiet humane humour. It is a remarkably unified project, in which avant-garde procedures such as improvisation, collaboration, multi-media presentation and site‑specificness come from long work in feminism and social activity as much as from artistic experimentation. Games are played with the meaningful things of this world (like words and stones) to rearrange them and see what they say to us. This isn’t complicated or obscure – it is what both children do and what our ancestors did. It is how we get to know language, land, ourselves and our relationships with others. It is the very project of human culture.
This is poetry, then, which reflects contemporary social and artistic practice, but also picks up on the play with words and stones we all engage in and can relate to. The ancient stone relics on Exmoor that have interested her recently are characterised by their obscurity and small-scaleness, far‑removed from megalithic mega‑monsters (doubtless commemorating the power of our eternal ruling elites) like Stonehenge, Avebury and Brodgar. The Exmoor stones are equally marks on the landscape, but presenting not domination and incomprehensible awe, but smaller-scale, more human action, and need searching for rather than thrusting themselves upon their on-lookers.  This is the level we actually live and work at, where our consciousness is formed. Her close attention to the sounds & letters of language is evident in her forthcoming Alphabet for Alina sequence (Five Seasons Press, 2012), and in the poem “Learning Letters”, an improvisation on her childhood Dutch primer (her mother’s tongue): “a new formation” always, whether from childhood words or quartz pebbles.
Another delightful quality is the openness of her writing to the world around her – whether it is writing where the site of its writing is important (poésie en plein air) or where the world itself forces itself in. Thus the poem “Culbone”, written in the numinous location of Culbone Church, with language overheard earlier at the Ship Inn, Porlock (various Romantic poet memories ion these places!) ends with the famous “Nonsense” that had got Walter Wolfgang ejected from the Labour Party Conference the day before.

Frances Presley on the Internet

Poems online

from Alphabet for Alina 

earlier poems


About herself & writing

Criticism, Reviews etc 

Bibliography

  •              with Irma Irsara, Automatic Cross Stitch (Other Press, 2000)
  •        with Elizabeth James, Neither the One nor the Other (Form Books, 1999)
  •               Paravane: new and selected poems, 1996-2003 (Salt, 2004)
  •               Myne: new and selected poems and prose, 1976-2005, (Shearsman, 2006)
  •              Lines of Sight, (Shearsman, 2009)
  •              with Tilla Brading, Stone Settings (Odyssey Books & Other Press, 2010)
  •              with Peterjon Skelt, Alphabet for Alina, (Five Seasons Press, forthcoming 2012)

·         Anthologies

  • Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets (edited Carrie Etter, Shearsman, 2010
  •  A Ground Aslant – Radical Landscape Poetry (edited Harriet Tarlo, Shearsman, 2011)

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