Untitled
Trace the body
to understand,
memorize a memory
transparent and rubbed
with charcoal to be
revealed.
B – Poem – Untitled #2
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Author Archives: malmar29
B – Poem – Untitled #1
Untitled
I dream
for a moment
and my skin slides off
my muscles as they drop
away from my bones
as they loosen my joints
as my mind exceeds
my body and I
disappear through the thick
of my thoughts that trail
after a memory that covers
the land that stretches out
over and back
into my body
and I feel that tiny burst
of relief as time lets go
and I fall free
and unfinished to tangle
with leaves in the tree.
B – Poem – Embodiment
Embodiment
I am house I am host I am post I am sign
I am line I am rhythm I am traffic I am breath
I am wind I am window I am viewer I am viewed
I am moved I am turning I am turning I am turned
I am stopped I am walking I am waiting I am told
I am passed I am past I am lost I am found
I am familiar I am different I am separate I am connected
I am tree I am grass I am glass I am fence
I am entered I am entrance I am open
I am closed I am bridge I am water I am fountain
I am puddle I am gutter I am drain I am rain
I am public I am private I am shadow I am forgotten
I am distraction I am built I am ruin I am stone
I am alone.
B – Poem – Untitled #3
Untitled
my eyes
trace a memory
real and imagined—
my hands are full of text,
drinking letters while my mind
pours out thoughts—
and the letters are still,
only alive
in the body
that reads them.
B – Reverie #4 Week 8
Marisa Malone
Bachelardian Reverie #4
Winter qt. wk.8
Word Count: 100
“If there are ‘gorges’ (French = ‘throats’) in the mountains, isn’t it because the wind, long ago, spoke there?” In Bachelard’s understanding of poetry, a “light delirium makes the dreamer of cosmic reverie pass from a human vocabulary to a vocabulary of things.” He admires poetry in which “human and cosmic tonalities reinforce each other.”
Use this prompt to evoke through a poetic image a light delirium in which your nerves run along the “fibers” of your field study.
“How the object we dream helps us forget time and be at peace with ourselves!” -Bachelard (163)
….
My reveries run through me, wild with my spiral thoughts. My body is a constraint to dream through to make with to work from. My reveries trace the edges never the whole until I dream again and slip into that space where time lets go and my thoughts fall free like the words falling free on the page only there is never freedom in the page only tiny bursts of relief from my thoughts as they lock with an others. My reveries move through me with the gusts of traffic, pushing from my skin unfinished thoughts that tangle like leaves in the tree.
B – Week 7 Logs
Monday February 18th
2.5 hours – working on seminar pass poem.
.5 hours – walking by the water and through the city.
.5 hours – journaling about how to find my body by removing the space around it, vagina monologs, echos of centuries of repression and oppression. (notes for poems)
2 hours – reading.
.5 hours – looking up names, books and definitions from my not-knowing-notebook.
1 hour – compulsively tweaking a poem, finishing up and posting my seminar pass.
Tuesday February 19th
1 hour – journaling about ghosts in the land, buildings covering up history, military torture techniques, and the loss or rediscover of self, empowerment, and being through the reclaiming of language.
1 hour – reading and responding to seminar passes.
2 hours – studio time (free writing).
2.5 hours – derive – wondering through different parts of town, free writing.
1 hour – reading.
Wednesday February 20th
1.5 hour – journaling about running into cliches and generalizations, developing awareness to understand my body in relation (or contrast) to its environment, making a to do list.
4 hours – reading interspersed with discussions and free writes on memories and reveries evoked from the former.
1.5 hours – writing and posting Bachelardian reveries.
1 hour – transcribing field study journal entries.
.5 hour – beginning term paper draft.
Thursday February 21st
.5 hours – journaling about where I see an other form of myself in nature within urban space.
4 hours – reading.
.5 hours – transcribing field study journal entries.
.5 hours – compiling field study poetry into one place.
.5 hours – reciting and editing poems.
2 hours – helped sort type at Sherwood Press.
Friday February 22nd
.5 hours – journaling about movement captured in a room and imagining the rain on my skin.
1 hour – transcribing journal entries.
2 hours – journaling and thinking about the line between helpful and harmful analyzation and questions of mybody. Creating an outline for term paper.
.5 hours – reading.
Saturday February 23rd
2 hours – writing field study paper draft.
Sunday February 24th
1 hours – journaling about stress, free write on the smell of violates in the wind.
1 hour – hepling facilitate a letterpress profficiency.
3.5 hours – working on field study paper draft.
.5 hours – researching poets from perloff (Charles Bernstien & George Oppen)
1.5 hours – reading.
Totals:
This week: 44.5 hours
Cumulative total: 134 hours
Reading List:
Beyond The Body Proper, Reading The Anthropology of Material Life. – Margaret Lock and Judith Farquhar.
The Poetics of Reverie – Bachelard.
The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls. – Joan Jacobs Brumberg.
Poetry A Pocket Anthology.
Reading In The Brain. – Stanislas Dehaene.
B – Reverie #3 Week 7
Word Count:168
“Then there lives within us not a memory of history but a memory of the cosmos. Times when nothing happened come back.” (Bachelard, 119)
“The pure memory has no date. It has a season.” (Bachelard, 116)
“a whole vanished universe is preserved by an odor.” (Bachelard)
*The poems correspond in order of the three quotes.
1)
the eruptions
of reverie,
the micro-pulsations,
cause our skin
to dream
of a time
when nothing
happened.
2)
I slip between a time of now and when
the days light lasted long into the night,
and the sun broke apart and scattered
across the sky and everything was possible
and nothing was done in the thick heat
of my body sticky with pollen and petals,
and the tangy earth-like sweetness of my
humid skin stretched over lazy summer
bones.
3)
This house is old. I smell its old age in the cobwebbed history of its bones (old books, sun bleached photos, antique furniture, dusty wood, empty dresser drawers, lavender, loose wall paper). It holds a heat that warms the deepest part of me, a part of that pulsing piece thats hidden between my spine and rib cage. The cotton bub breeze carries traces of river and moves through lace curtains and through my mind, kicking up forgotten feelings, suspending me in this moment of pure memory.
B – Poem – Untitled #4
Untitled
I lie fractions apart from imagined beings and tangible bodies
His head and shoulders curl
into my lap.
Like a child
he finds comfort in the deep,
old warmth of womb.
My fingers work through
his silk hair, swallow the nape
of his neck and get lost
in the space between
spine and skull.
They push,
rub, a pressure
spelling out unspoken language,
to touch and be touched.
I hold him with acute awareness
of the space that fills around me,
the tangle of knees,
the knots of the spine,
curve of the back.
My hands read the history
bubbling from his skin,
the paragraphs written in the flexing
of thighs and pushing of palms.
My body is written in his story.
B – Week 6 Logs
Week 6 logs:
Monday February 11th
2 hours – Derive. Took descriptive notes and journaled about my surroundings, and what I was attracted to and why (notes for a poem!)
2 hours – yoga and peer-editing.
2 hours – working on anthology.
1.5 hours – working on seminar pass.
.5 hours – revising and posting poem.
1.5 hours – watching I Believe In Atlanta. A documentary done by a friend about the untold history of the city and its effect on her.
Tuesday February 12th
4 hours – studio time (printing).
1.5 hours – reading/commenting on seminar passes. virtual seminar.
3 hours – reading.
.5 hours – working on anthology.
.5 hours – journaling about gender, when, where and how I switch gender “rolls”, becomeing more feminine or more masculine and the effects they have.
Wednesday February 13th
1.5 hours – reading
.5 hour – journaling on Reverie.
2 hours – Kallari Chocolate lecture and tasting.
1 hour – working on anthology.
1 hour – crafting journal entries and notes into poems.
1 hour – writing Bachelardian reverie.
Thursday February 14th
5.5 hours – studio time (printing!)
.5 hours – journaling about my time spent in the studio, the relationship between body and machine, the anima and animus of letterpress.
.5 hours – reading.
Friday February 15th
1 hour – journaling about confusion, negative emotions and obstacles.
.5 hour – scoping moodle/e-alphabet, clarifying anthology logistics.
1 hour – reading.
Saturday February 16th
1 hour – reading.
Sunday February 17th
2 hours – reading.
1.5 hour – journaling about the relationship of letters to body to thoughts to place/environment to traveling and ideas for term paper.
1.5 hours – starting seminar pass and researching poet from Perloff.
2.5 hours – vagina monologs!!
Totals:
This week: 43.5 hours
Cumulative total: 75 hours
Reading List:
The Poetics of Reverie – Bachelard.
Beyond The Body Proper, Reading The Anthropology of Material Life. – Margaret Lock and Judith Farquhar.
The Laugh Of Medusa – Hellen Cixous.
Reading In The Brain. – Stanislas Dehaene.
The Book As A Container Of Consciousness – Author unknown.
B – Reverie #2 Week. 6
Reverie on Reveries on Reverie:
“There are reveries where I am less than myself. Then the shadow is a rich being.” – (Bachelard, 80)
I’ve always known that I contain multiples. I’ve felt the sides of my sides and seen their shadows. Shadows that stretch their way over a city sidewalk, contorting to read the misshapen text of the ground, and curve against the corners. They reveal the shape of my body, the shape of my state of mind as I am forced to move along the contours of buildings, stepping off and on to curbs, yielding to the traffic of machines and other bodies and puddles of rainwater gathered at the corner of the street I walk every day, shining with the slick mix of oil reflecting a self idealized.