Featured Poet 5 - Lawrence Upton

A selection of poetry - 2

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[Increasingly I write multivoice and "dramatically" - although I always have to some extent - and this is one among many pieces. I hesitated, wondering if I should include a piece from Easy Huming, but all 4 of the completed sections are now or soon will be available on the web]

TWO VIEWS OF THE SAME CONFUSING SCENE

1 THE SCRIPT

PONTIUS: [looking out of the window as he drinks from a bottle] My god!
JACK KETCH: [poking his head briefly round the curtain] said dismissively - note the origins of this word
PONTIUS: we have multiple horizons
TOBY: God aside, we have more than one horizon
THE BABY: God the discarded
  [Jack Ketch sneaks in at the side of the stage]
TOBY: God not true
THE BABY: Unfaithful
TOBY: Unreliable
JUDAS: Not to be believed in. God not; to be believed in
  [Jack Ketch marches towards Pontius]
PONTIUS: [pushing Jack Ketch away] framed
MRS PUNCHED: The horizons are in frame
JUDAS: and God is in focus and we have plans for it
PONTIUS: the horizon is less explicable. I have seen what I have seen.
  [Jack Ketch pulls out his handcuffs but drops them. He scrabbles on all fours for them]
THE BABY: Tree trunk holes in the landscape above the horizon line. That's what I see. Vertical gaps in the nature -
TOBY: and two gigantic blue noses.
PONTIUS: I have no idea
THE BABY: A stand of trees, a fence, a border, gender unknown. Keep out; or, do not dare to enter
MRS PUNCHED: I yearn for the dark forest... I matter -
PONTIUS: you matter
JACK KETCH: it matters... [He retrieves his handcuffs and stands up rather wearily]
TOBY: in the forest -
JACK KETCH: At the end of the mass transportation vehicle, there is a door which leads to Hell
PONTIUS: It says so on the door. The window is barred. I cannot escape.
  [Pontius moves away from Jack Ketch]
THE BABY: They begin to arm themselves.
  [Jack Ketch advances on Pontius]
JACK KETCH: They begin to conquer territory they do not need.
  [Pontius keeps his distance but Ketch is slowly cornering him]
MRS PUNCHED: I twisted in and twisted around. It was better than last time. Last time I hurt my kidneys. This time I just twisted around. Next time I shall keep my shoes on. [She picks up the baby]
PONTIUS: What do you think, Thyroids?
JACK KETCH: He likes amusing epithets and advances angrily once he has said this one.
MRS PUNCHED: [rocking the baby in her arms] The world is rocking me to sleep,
  [A policeman enters and is immediately stabbed by Pontius]
TOBY: he says, cutting the first throat; it's its virtual sunlight.
  [Pontius grabs the baby from Mrs Punched, who looks as though she is screaming but doesn't make a sound, and starts swinging it double-handed]
THE BABY: We speed ahead, he says
PONTIUS: [swinging the baby in one hand now] we speed ahead
THE BABY: Most of the town tonight, he says
MRS PUNCHED: He is terrorising this carriage, a posh lady says
JUDAS: Moishe, Moishe, don't cause trouble
TOBY: I have invented a man whom I shall empower in order to have someone to keep informed. He will become the most knowledgeable human being in the universe. I may do no more
JACK KETCH: [Grabbing hold of Pontius] Mutual exclamations
PONTIUS: They can't climb out of their cages before falling off; but they try it anyway.
  [Ketch slips the noose over Pontius' head]
MRS PUNCHED: [to Pontius] The ultimate adrenalin would be falling into your face.
  [Ketch hangs Pontius]

 

2 A PAINTERLY SEQUENCE

My god! (said dismissively - note the origins of this word), we have multiple horizons. God aside, we have more than one horizon. God the discarded. God not true. Unfaithful. Unreliable. Not to be believed in. God not; to be believed in, framed. The horizons are in frame and God is in focus and we have plans for it; the horizon is less explicable. I have seen what I have seen - past tense as I lack recording apparatus.

Tree trunk holes in the landscape above the horizon line. That's what I see. Vertical gaps in the nature and two gigantic blue noses. I have no idea. A stand of trees, a fence, a border, gender unknown. Keep out; or, do not dare to enter. I yearn for the dark forest... I matter, you matter, it matters... in the forest.

At the end of the mass transportation vehicle, there is a door which leads to Hell. It says so on the door. The window is barred. I cannot escape. They begin to arm themselves. They begin to conquer territory they do not need. I twisted in and twisted around. It was better than last time. Last time I hurt my kidneys. This time I just twisted around. Next time I shall keep my shoes on.

What do you think, Thyroids? He likes amusing epithets and advances angrily once he has said this one. The world is rocking me to sleep, he says, cutting the first throat; it's its virtual sunlight. We speed ahead, he says; we speed ahead. Most of the town tonight, he says. He is terrorising this carriage, a posh lady says. Moishe, Moishe, don't cause trouble, someone says, as if quoting, and laughs.

I have invented a man whom I shall empower in order to have someone to keep informed. He will become the most knowledgeable human being in the universe. I may do no more.

Mutual exclamations. They can't climb out of their cages before falling off; but they try it anyway. The ultimate adrenalin would be falling into your face.

*

[Someone asked me to write some lyrics for their band and then didn't use them. They're being looked at by another band now. Here's one]

SONG
 
you might say you love me
you might really mean it
but you don't love me at all
 
you might spend time with me
you might really like me
but you don't love me at all
 
if I want love I'll say
I've got nothing to say
you don't love me at all
 
if you loved me
you wouldn't keep talking
if you love me
we wouldn't always be here
 
what I want is no love
I want a quiet life
you don't love me at all

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[I make a lot of what, for want of a better term, one calls visual poetry. Relatively little of it is concrete poetry as such.

I make poems which are, hopefully, good to look at and which are performable by one or more voices. Many of the visual poems exist in a variety of forms - using different colours and different papers. Many exist only onscreen. The following piece would be for 2 voices improvising]

 

 

 

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