{"id":4366,"date":"2015-07-16T18:37:28","date_gmt":"2015-07-16T18:37:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=4366"},"modified":"2015-10-18T20:52:05","modified_gmt":"2015-10-18T20:52:05","slug":"at-a-slant-a-poem-by-robin-ouzman-hislop","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/at-a-slant-a-poem-by-robin-ouzman-hislop\/","title":{"rendered":"At a Slant. A Poem by Robin Ouzman Hislop"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\"OLYMPUS<\/a><\/dt>\n
<\/dd>\n<\/dl>\n
 \r\n\r\n\r\nI approach the horizon of my 70th year, at a slant. <\/strong>\r\nOpposite the bars of the kitchen window<\/strong>\r\nthe gable end wall is stuffed with straw, stones, sand, birds<\/strong>\r\nplus weird contortions.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nO cellular automata paying lip service to an age of cryptography<\/strong>\r\ndecipher me<\/strong>\r\na digit in time saves nine.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe wall is yellow now, a mingling crumble<\/strong>\r\n            carte blanche in the sun's heat it stands to fall<\/strong>\r\n            a block across which entangled photons might reach<\/strong>\r\n            to inform the space already transfixed in the light<\/strong>\r\n\r\non this plane of observation<\/strong>\r\nwhich might be the special attraction, the fractal symmetry<\/strong>\r\nof this organism with its bacteria in my nose<\/strong>\r\ntogether with the properties of impregnated asteroids.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nOn the bus. 27\/05\/14<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nunder the hat, squaring the ridge, on the gravy train<\/strong>\r\n\r\ntraffic is more representative of our species nowadays<\/strong>\r\n            an extension of our inner space<\/strong>\r\n            put back what you get out of it<\/strong>\r\nlike the carnivore industry, from gravy to the grave.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nAirport lounge. 2.30pm 27\/5\/14<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nextended into our traffic<\/strong>\r\nbut not our cattle, we eat them<\/strong>\r\nwhereas our traffic eats us.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDeparture Gates<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nWe're not meat as we're shuffled through Control<\/strong>\r\nmilled into queue<\/strong>\r\nloaded into seats to be transported across the skies<\/strong>\r\n\r\nour meat machines are the word made flesh from which we grow<\/strong>\r\nto love, not hate!<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nLate in the Departure Lounge.<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nNight drinks a darkening<\/strong>\r\nday in its deceit harvests green<\/strong>\r\nwith all its carnage unseen<\/strong>\r\nbeneath our conscious sheen<\/strong>\r\nfor were the green gone<\/strong>\r\nhow could night become<\/strong>\r\nwith a hey, a ho, a noddy<\/strong>\r\nnoddy hey ho.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                             *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nOn the floor stands an orange cow beside the snack bar<\/strong>\r\nbedecked in flags of nations with tasty invites.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nYou can even touch it, it will not bite.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe Delicatessen sports legs of smoked ham, spirits<\/strong>\r\na cardboard cut out black bull rages in ferocious stance<\/strong>\r\na headless toreador, richly costumed brings it down<\/strong>\r\nno need for fight or flight<\/strong>\r\n            it's there to tame your hunger.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDay 3, in the shaving mirror.<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nShe was like a digital doll<\/strong>\r\nyoung, almost beautiful<\/strong>\r\ncompiled to instruct us by ritual mannerism<\/strong>\r\nto go through that door in the wall with a video camera<\/strong>\r\nin every corner watching over us.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nWho's going to watch it, I wonder<\/strong>\r\nperhaps Watson, who one day<\/strong>\r\nwill be able to react on itself, in AI.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe con of life<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nthe weirdness of its melodramatic sham<\/strong>\r\nhow good we are at yesterday, tomorrow<\/strong>\r\nalways better than before<\/strong>\r\nlike, being had - in the process by it.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nAt a slant \u2013 the street. 12\/06\/14<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nparades predatory robots, rapine vampires<\/strong>\r\na pageantry of prawns, satellites flying<\/strong>\r\ncomputer sausage balloons<\/strong>\r\n\r\nan android addresses the multitude with the question<\/strong>\r\n            who has not the free will to be immortal.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nSkull Moon<\/strong><\/em>\r\nlooming in your implacable fashion<\/strong>\r\nare we facing extinction?<\/strong>\r\n\r\nYou live longer than we do<\/strong>\r\ntuned into the fine tuning of the cosmic sea<\/strong>\r\nwhere we swim only to drown on the tides<\/strong>\r\ndrawn by the skull beneath the waves<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nTransubstantiation<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nwe are special because between the bonobo, the baboon<\/strong>\r\nwe strike a happy medium, we grow the meat we eat<\/strong>\r\nthe world is our property.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nA walk in the cemetery<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nno shining sarcophagus<\/strong>\r\nno black, silver gleaming obelisks<\/strong>\r\nno painted vases on filmy fields<\/strong>\r\nhere the bank's greenery gathers them<\/strong>\r\ntipped, tilted awry, dark stained moss brown<\/strong>\r\nnot a tint of blood red.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThey're a huddle of mute sameness<\/strong>\r\na closeness without plasticity<\/strong>\r\nnature harvests no funeral<\/strong>\r\nlife simply goes on, appearances are deceptive.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nSlant a summer's day<\/strong>\r\nchicks sally forth in summer shorts<\/strong>\r\nsequestering looks, selecting sequestered looks<\/strong>\r\nthe world is a mating call.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nOn the moor, nature unleashed<\/strong>\r\non this wind where ancient whiffs<\/strong>\r\nof nostalgia blow from land, sea<\/strong>\r\nwere my predecessors really so free<\/strong>\r\nor like me, trapped?<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDressed, undressed<\/strong>\r\n      the hairless ape<\/strong>\r\ndressed, undressed<\/strong>\r\n      a dance of rigmarole<\/strong>\r\nuntil we became a costume part<\/strong>\r\n      a marmot puppet of coloured rags<\/strong>\r\na roll of flags.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nOut of town<\/strong>\r\nshunting from the station<\/strong>\r\narches overhead, slanting<\/strong>\r\nproduces an OCD rush in the brain <\/strong>\r\n\r\n'underneath the arches i dreamed my life away<\/em>'<\/strong>\r\n\r\nArch trance<\/strong>\r\n- an iteration of ink blots or patches of light, dark.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                               *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nShopping mall<\/strong><\/em>\r\n\r\nfloat in a slip stream, an air<\/strong>\r\nconditioned sunlight<\/strong>\r\neuphoria of flowing flesh<\/strong>\r\nepiphany of the age.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nSaccades pass through windows<\/strong>\r\nwhich mirror a time where nothing changes<\/strong>\r\na reflected object in the existence of distance<\/strong>\r\n(there yet might be no external world)<\/strong>\r\n\r\nephemeral moments intervene <\/strong>\r\n          describe reality as slices of dream.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\n\u201cDerby day\u201d<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nAmongst those dark satanic mills<\/em><\/strong>\r\nwhere the falcon soars the fell<\/strong>\r\nover milk, honey, dairy swell<\/strong>\r\na videocam on each farm wall<\/strong>\r\nto toil the land to till, kill.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDancing tossed<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\na measure of uncertainty where the environment begins<\/strong>\r\n(but only seems) in the drift of infinity<\/strong>\r\nwhere it never finishes in its last ultimate instance<\/strong>\r\n- on the pitiless wave ...<\/strong>\r\n \r\nHere we are so so - big, so so - tiny small<\/strong>\r\nare we a particle or are we a cell<\/strong>\r\nthat damned eternal interval \u2013 silencio.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDay One Return Flight in the Shaving Mirror. (12\/9\/14)<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nDear homo sapiens<\/strong>\r\nit's a pity we can't be more than we are<\/strong>\r\nbut it's the same for all of us!<\/strong>\r\n\r\nAt the heart of all politics is religion<\/strong>\r\nat the heart of all religion is gossipmongering<\/strong>\r\nthe birth of a nation state is a limited liability company<\/strong>\r\n                   a moral fiction.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                             *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nClick.<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nIn the brain<\/strong>\r\nagain the rain<\/strong>\r\nbefore the click<\/strong>\r\ni can't locate it -<\/strong>\r\nwhat shall i do<\/strong>\r\nshall i let it stall<\/strong>\r\nor unwind it all?<\/strong>\r\nThe click's the call \u2013 Click.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nA bartered world<\/strong>\r\nshrieks the parrot's song<\/strong>\r\npieces of memories - go ape.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nWhat is the final emotion<\/strong>\r\nwe programme<\/strong>\r\nevery physical thing<\/strong>\r\ninformation into a time machine<\/strong>\r\non a haunted meme?<\/strong>\r\n\r\n                              *<\/strong>\r\n\r\nA glint of flint<\/strong>\r\nground gravel<\/strong>\r\na spruce of sprig<\/strong>\r\nbroken twig<\/strong>\r\nscuttling insect<\/strong>\r\nscuffed toe<\/strong>\r\nsombrero<\/strong>\r\nthere's no flow<\/strong>\r\nmembranous landscapes<\/strong>\r\nslide show<\/strong>\r\nbut it's only the split, we know<\/strong>\r\ntime transforms all.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThis life that drags<\/strong>\r\ninnumerable concerns<\/strong>\r\nhand to mouth - the law!<\/strong>\r\n\r\nWorld without doors<\/strong>\r\n      after the before that<\/strong>\r\n           doors do not speak<\/strong>\r\n\r\ndoors that let you in<\/strong>\r\ndoors that let you out<\/strong>\r\ndoors that lock you down<\/strong>\r\n\r\nTunes that determine words<\/strong>\r\n       words that determine tunes<\/strong>\r\n\r\nBreak in space<\/strong>\r\n      eat in public place<\/strong>\r\n\r\nDo not touch<\/strong>\r\n      it must have a name<\/strong>\r\n\r\nLike emergence<\/strong>\r\n      hurrah for war<\/strong>\r\n\r\n After the before that<\/strong>\r\n      doors do not speak<\/strong>\r\n\r\nWorld without doors<\/strong>\r\n     weathertime<\/strong>\r\n          patches in between.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe world is our closure<\/strong>\r\ntime its property<\/strong>\r\nconsciousness<\/strong>\r\nlike a pendulum's to, fro<\/strong>\r\nmanufactures dream in the instants between<\/strong>\r\n\r\n             age is made of memories & forgetting.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n\r\n                         * * *<\/strong>\r\n\r\n\"OLYMPUS<\/a>\r\n\r\nrobin@artvilla.com<\/a>\r\nPoetryLifeTimes<\/a>\r\nPoetry Life & Times<\/a>\r\neditor@artvilla.com<\/a>\r\nwww.artvilla.com<\/a>\r\nArtvilla.com<\/a>\r\n<\/strong><\/pre>\n
Share and Enjoy !<\/h3>
<\/i><\/span>Shares<\/small><\/div>
<\/i><\/span><\/a><\/span>\n<\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<\/i><\/a><\/span><\/div><\/div><\/div>
<\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<\/i><\/a><\/span><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I approach the horizon of my 70th year, at a slant. Opposite the bars of the kitchen window the gable end wall is stuffed with straw, stones, sand, birds plus weird contortions. O cellular automata paying lip service to an age of cryptography decipher me a digit in time saves nine. The wall is yellow … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,52],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4366"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4366"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4366\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4740,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4366\/revisions\/4740"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4366"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4366"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4366"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}