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Snapshots
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SNAPSHOT 10
Snapshot 11: [a lesson in dramaturgy perhaps] a friend calls me with a denouement problem halting her progress she describes the scenario and starts thinking aloud and for a while i'm lost in the process as well as the progress until something clicks and we start dreaming together discussing resemblances recognizables the sea the land the fascination the seashore holds waves breaking or gently lapping simply childhood motherhood fatherhood opposites differences sadness birth loss post-natal depresssion and the male's mental substitution for it interplay and textures love and society lorca and plato plus the the significance of a familiar folk-tale where a seal gives birth to a human child the in- compatibility of the two doomed to separation and in time having gone with the tide the ebb and the flow it all falls into place so separation becomes natural Árni Ibsen Hafnarfjördur, Iceland Around midnight 7/09/03 A replacement has occurred, as it were, it's like he said, more or less, the heat of this world is a constant quantity. For each place that gets cold, somewhere else gets hot. And vice versa. As soon as the heat lets go of Britain it kicks us in the teeth. No matter how this country shakes its name like a spear, rattling its icicles, the heat kicks its heels in. Looks like we're in for a long haul of mediterranean pretence. Árni Ibsen Hafnarfjördur, Iceland, 10.22pm 7/16/03 SNAPSHOT 13 (a) clear sky silent streak of white vapour caught by sun silver cylinder of people cylinder of desires cylinder of destinations Árni Ibsen Hafnarfjördur, Iceland, 10:45 a.m., 7/23/03 SNAPSHOT 13 (b) caught in the middle of a small chorus line facing the conjoined wall to wall mirrors in the rehearsal room reflecting those on either side of me while the 'I' has disappeared between the warped edges cramped between two separate convexes Árni Ibsen Hafnarfjördur, Iceland, 12.15pm SNAPSHOT 14 in the way those skewed namesakes Georg and Igor and Jorge too are farmers in essence separately caring for their bountiful lands tending the earth gathering harvest unwitting brothers in arms yet severed yet split by languages separated through time I am severed in time between languages caught between the said and the unsaid the sayable and the unsayable the lived and the yet to be the text and the assumed undertext awaiting to hear my lookout yelling land land a new found land a new sound land my lieu mound land you hound land where all's said and yet said again a gainsay land a see-saw land a twofold land three fold (even) land where all's found yet keep searching till it's you found land all over again your very own new found land where a commune is called Georg and Igor and Jorge pay him a visit sometimes and their spirited stories and sensitive laughter fill the forest making the field grow [Note: by happy chance 'fold' is a proper word in Icelandic too where it means earth'] Árni Ibsen Around midnight 7/30/03 Hafnarfjördur Iceland SNAPSHOT 15 august 6 killing heat candles floating dusk calm pond reminder stupid might first hunch unseen film x-rated nudity hiroshima mon amour Árni Ibsen, hafnarfjördur, iceland, 6:30 p.m. SNAPSHOT 16: IN STOCKHOLM for Ylva Hellerud ringing the bell awaiting response looking at the names i realize i may have friends residing in strindberg's last place of residence on top of drottninggatan under august "falaise"-like cloud formations with august's troubled head obscured and upside-down as in his own falaise-painting my own face on foreign shores upside-down where i fool myself i speak the language and fool myself i may function in spite of august i get answered in english whenever i open my mouth to utter their language still breathless after the wonders of the vasa museum where the swedes have the confidence to display an ancient war machine anno 1628 that sank on its maiden voyage due to faulty design and a ballast that was grossly miscalculated deaths were anonimous then unanimous even the salvage was the greater victory the 1950s divers the victors and there's no response so i turn away from the bell and the names on the door all so familiar although virtual aeons separate them i'll come back tomorrow weather permitting unless i call the august strindberg so listed in the 2003 stockholm telephone directory to ask if his museum is up to scratch and should i visit ... ? Árni Ibsen, vickersgatan 15, sšder, stockholm 11:00 pm SNAPSHOT 17 autumn slowly slips into the green on the leaves slowly slipped into our heads is yet another political lie a foetus six weeks old slowly slips out in a trickle of blood Árni Ibsen hafnarfjördur,iceland. after 10 p.m. august 20, 2003. SNAPSHOT 18 sod it! o sod it's overcast now mars is a-close a-rising so red so round so happily drunk there in the east after 60.000 years of neglect somewhere that fart behind those clouds those perfectly useless clouds could see him none the less from elsewhere last saturday caught a plane though back home which he must've missed the fool i did hand him his ticket paid for dearly and missed it that stone-age troglodyte can't even see me now wherever he is and yet i'm shining a biggish red and o so perfectly round on his perfectly clouded blinding horizon Árni Ibsen 10:30 pm, august 27, hafnarfjördur, iceland. SNAPSHOT 19 first low-pressure of the autumn pelting rain from all sides wind upsetting garden gnomes tearing leaves still green from their branches unprepared the place familiar now weâre back in our natural habitat the occasional ray of sunshine stabbing through the concentrate of clouds as the disgruntled gnomes pull each other back on their feet and offer trauma counseling to the disheveled leaves Árni Ibsen stekkjarkinn 19, hafnarfjördur, iceland midnight, september 3, 2003 SNAPSHOT 20 alexis korner sat in his corner singing the blues to me a very thorough re- treat to the 1960s thank god for recordings and now there's that chicago beau paul butterfield blowing his hurtful harmonica to smithereens and it's been a peculiar kind of day not to put too fine a point on it very varied very fuzzy there's a word in my native tongue keeps butting my head now it's ãtrafä which can mean either ãbandageä or ãfringeä or even ãfuzzy edgeä and my grandfather used it in one of his best poems and i wish i could find a word that fathomous in english because i need it now blow your fuzzy harmonica paul sing alexis with that rasped voice it's been that kind of day simply Árni Ibsen stekkjarkinn 19, hafnarfjördur, iceland midnight, september 10, 2003 SNAPSHOT 21 darkness closing in yet still so still soft so soft now we're wrapped in velvet contracting discretely until we're in its tight grip as if inside an old cold stone Árni Ibsen september 17 - 11:30 p.m. hafnarfjördur - iceland SNAPSHOT 22 weather insignificant neither summer nor winter still lush and green the grass along the brook beyond fugitives' road on the edge of town the urgent steps that trod it covered now by single lane asphalt on the still pond that tiny reservoir above the dam of quarried stone remnant of the first water-works worn wooden pipe half-submerged (a tiny bird a wheatear alighted before my eyes there a year ago) while beneath my feet the water seeps through between the stones of the dam and the brook crawls away gathering momentum cold and deep stroking the blades of grass causing them to tremble the mountains lining my horizon have greyed slightly at the temples soon to be white my own hair is greying at the temples back from my walk i play bud powell's tempus fugue-it Árni Ibsen 2:30 p.m. september 24, 2003 hafnarfjördur, iceland SNAPSHOT 23
árni ibsen
october 2, 10:15 pm stekkjarkinn 19 hafnarfjördur
Stinnur vængur straukst við þig, snart hendur þínar
en án tilgangs - þetta var ekki kortið þitt.
Mottetti, Eugenio Montale
A hard wing brushed past you, touching your hands
but to no purpose - this was not your card.
Mottetti, Eugenio Montale
síminn er þögn the telephone is a silence
rödd þín berst af sjálfsdáðum your voice delivering itself
sem einvera as a solitude
ég er ólæs á hjarta mitt I cannot read my heart
það er orðvana it is a reticence
skömmu fyrir innrás on the brink of invasion
titra lauf á vori the leaves of springtime shiver
undir málmkenndum himni under a metal sky
sem víravængir strjúka brushed by wings of wire
tónlistarflækjur tangled musics
sætari og ofsafengnari sweeter and more fierce
en hendur ráða við than hands can manage
Tr. Árni Ibsen Alison Croggon
overnight the trees stripped bare by their bachelors the winds, even (the large glass) shattered the image which reflected my summer now for the cold fast food buffet instant winter playing a slow game of chess Árni Ibsen, 9:30 p.m. hafnarfjšrdur iceland SNAPSHOT 25 a result possibly of global warming regulus regulus aka the goldcrest is beginning to settle in iceland according to the paper excellent news since it thrives on the invisible evil pine weevil and given time may possibly restore the colour of my pines Árni Ibsen hafnarfjördur iceland 8:50 pm SNAPSHOT 26 [the crest of the snapshot year] the northern lights have been merrily playing the night sky this week and a man on the radio bemoans the fact that we've lost our ability to read them to fathom the message of each colour and the speed of their wiggling he claims winter would never surprise us if we could read that close encounter display of the awesome kind same with field-mice he adds the simple fact that they either make holes for the winter facing north or south in order it seems to tell us what kind of winter we may expect cold or warm and like the natural scientists i go tut-tut from my sickbed already forgetting my vow two days ago that i'd better pay heed to old wisdoms or as you say 'old wives' tales' when i bragged about not having been caught ill since leaving my job nine years ago and was promptly taken ill that same night árni ibsen 9:20 pm october 22 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 27 as i stop at a red light a dilapidated van pulls up behind me and moans to a halt its rusted sieve of a body clinging onto itself for dear life as seen from a rear-view mirror its front emblazoned with NAMSSERP and beneath that daeha pets eno syawlA i've only just got the message as the light changes and driving off i wonder if how far behind with everything i am could be measured and there's a touch of frost in the air this afternoon and as dark falls the first snow starts to fall Árni ibsen 11:45 pm hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 28 in a theatrical context time is the fourth dimension the one that's beside ourselves the rich bonus gained by journeying through the piece chance on the other hand let alone sheer coincidence has to be an attribute a hidden agenda capsuled within time or buried deep inside one of its secret pockets one of which has to be that flight attendant's breast pocket from which he pulled that curious copy of dostoyevsky´s the double identical to the one i had intended to take with me on the flight to read en route but inadvertently left behind on my bedside table and surely another secret pocket must have vomited that other man with whom i brushed shoulders in dublin all those years ago and startled by our resemblance did a double take before he disappeared in the crowd Árni Ibsen, midnight november 6 2003 hafnarfjördur iceland [a rough reading] translation of Mark's snapshot Svörðurinn blakkur sviðinn. Hér og þar öskulag eftir tré, strokið eftir vindáttinni, líkt og vindurinn hafi látið skugga eftir í leiðinni. Á öðrum stöðum þar sem vindurinn kom ekki og bruninn hægur er lítill hringur, beinlitað hvolfþak, þumlung kannski yfir svertum sverðinum, far eftir gengið tré greinilega merkt um stund (uns hvessir aftur) af því sem eldurinn lét eftir. Árni Ibsen SNAPSHOT 29 moon wading through clouddrifts or else cloudwaves slapping against the bow of this pale skyship ghostsun while glen miller's lazy moonlight serenade laps the airwaves moored to a past floating me back to a time never lived a distant war never experienced but through tales in celluloid a curious nostalgia for an invented image until this alien line of voyage is split wide open by a passing car radio blaring full-blast that insistent line sweet child in time from deep purple in rock some bruised rock of this age Árni Ibsen 11:48 pm november 12 2003 hafnarfjördur, SNAPSHOT 30 defenseless my emptiness opens as i greet him not a shadow of doubt when he states that "today is a good day" bemused i enquire why he tells me the reason "i get to spend a lot of time with you" and my emptiness closes around the moment a transparent bubble that i'll carry until matted by time Árni Ibsen hafnarfjördur 11:30 pm nov. 19. 03 SNAPSHOT 32 if time has colour it is the musky colour of this insignificant day where everything threatens to turn brown if time has sound it is the sound of this empty house on this musky day where everything threatens to turn brown recalling the fitting odour a tap discreetly leaking cringing at the sound of each drop as it shatters in the kitchen sink the near silent moan of a floorboard imagining it's turning turning in its sleep casting a furtive glance at the other floorboards sleeping soundly alongside it on the floor silently wishing it could join their common floorboard dreams not realizing it was woken by the tired complaint of the rafters that no one's noticed since the house was built if time has a face it is the face in the faded faded mirror on this musky day where everything threatens to turn brown Árni Ibsen 11:15 pm dec 3 2003 stekkjarkinn 19 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 33 will the dark will it not relent repent... almost eleven already ay-em at that too ...! and the dark the dark will not will not let go i decide to keep all the lights on if only for today ... and it's there ... all there ... Árni Ibsen 11.50 pm hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 35 dry afternoon but neither long enough nor windy enough to merit the happy name of paupers' dry spell whereby the poor could wash their only clothes in the morning and put them back on on the eve of december 24 our meal's in the oven the city grows quiet the house smells like christmas already and the usual visitors start dropping by bringing gifts the grumpy old sisters arrive early this year revelling in their dislike of each other loving travelling together on this particular day of the year well-wishing throngs our tiny hall the open door blocked by goodwill and a surplus of peace as solemnity sets in our christmas begins at six on christmas eve at the sound of the bells Árni Ibsen december 24 2003 5:30 pm hafnarfjördur SNAPSHOT 36 sun returning we're burning a big black hole in the dark filling it with hope bright coloured fire fire works lighting up night's sky the door open yet again the floor awaiting (truly) dancers real dancers 'mañana habrá'¡ que inventar de nuevo la realidad de este mundo' with you beside me everything but everything's possible and i do love you we have another year at our hands my love Árni Ibsen december 31 2003 &january 1 2004 finished 02:30 am hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 37 end of tale the tail end of twelfth night the lights still on at awakening and off at the drop of an eyelid mine eyes make ready to adjust a new tale of colours lurking inside the greyness of wintry things Árni Ibsen 09:00 am january 7 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 38 winter at last my dirty shirt my greasy hair finally my very own & very very winter and all the work remaining awaiting the news yes árni ibsen hafnarfjördur nigh midnight, january 14, 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 39 this time of year we hear soft-spoken reports of people gathering under looming mountains in remote fjords for their annual sun-coffee perhaps even sweet sun-pancakes the virtue nigh obsolete of quiet celebration at seeing the sun light again gold rimming the rimy tops and deep within a heavy wooden pendulum hits a dim knell quieting the present tinkle árni ibsen hafnarfjördur iceland very late SNAPSHOT 40 the calmed weather the pond still mirroring a still sky biting cold everything on hold except a flock of cackling geeze that have arrogantly crossed the busy road to tear at the frozen grass on the traffic island while further down still standing on the edge of the brook two stout sedge-straws poised like clergy their priestly ruffs of ice still attached to the high water mark calmly preaching the coming of spring to deaf ears árni ibsen hafnarfjördur iceland 10:00 pm january 28 2003 SNAPSHOT 41 days by now stretching adding over six minutes each eroding gradually gnawing away at night the coffee lights up losing taste silence snubbed by elocution night illuminated eliminated árni ibsen 6:30 pm february 4 2003 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 42 time that time missed it again! hmppphh! again? C'MON! ... was else where submerge ... d in some one else's dead books of some kind of yore (a word?) with tears and all someone dead gone (to do, or not (possibly), with me) ... a-hem ... 01:20 am february 11 2004 árni ibsen stekkjarkinn 19 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 43 i leave iceland on monday vacant mind stark cold light sun in my eyes northerly breeze land in copenhagen and it's warm foggy soggy i leave copenhagen on wednesday vacant mind stark cold light sun in my eyes northerly breeze land in iceland and it's warm foggy and indeed you've guessed it! árni ibsen around midnight february 18 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland > SNAPSHOT P'RAPS HOT > > snapshot happhoezard > sitting here shitting there > all retired very tired > life passing by connive assing high > but thinking butt linking > so enviously ho viciously > about all those around gall's close > snapshotters happenstancers > all you so lucky ball u mucho cocky > teaching in unis reaching inison > vast salaries past maladies > plush offices rushed coffees > air conditioned nightmare > p.a.s secretaries pax vobiscum cranaries > suited flunkies united junkies > delicious coffees malicious offices > danish pastries swedish meatballs > chilled waters killed matters > tutoring lecturing motioning hectoring > to enraptured students woe the captured prudents > kissing the ground pissing the obvious > that you walk on what u chalk on > international conferencies interracial confectionaries > symposiums pow-wows sumptious punch & judies > sundrenched beaches rain quenched clichés > cocktail parties mock-mail farties > hats on drinkies malt's on trinkets > so delicious yo suspicious > loose bikinis choose surreptitious > little sandwiches toasted crumpets > lovely all tasty heavenly and wasty > think fink > I shall my gall > have another ever bothered > warm croissant armed to the crux > read the paper mead me draper > a humble decaff that bumble recap > write a poem trite that golem > and relate happily wand belated snappily > to the cat. tho' le chat > > pmcmanus 9am > raynespark uk > n364 treated by or impregnated by árni ibsen at midnight february 18 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland in unconditional admiration of pmcmanus SNAPSHOT 44 a brand new grey jeep parked outside engine running lights on the driver checking his watch while speaking on his mobile (my phone remains silent i'm not expecting visitors) the driver turns off the engine steps out into the street wearing a moss-green overcoat solemn faced carrying documents he walks down the street his left leg considerably shorter than the right leg his gait both sinister and comic further down several grey jeeps are parked each emitting a man wearing a light moss-green overcoat solemn faced carrying documents one leg shorter than the other all those moss-green coated solemn men quietly file limping into a house further down the street árni ibsen high noon ash-wednesday february 25 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 45 ah! warm breeze at least by our standards even though the sun's at odds with light indeterminate clouds feigning anger emitting a rather poor imitation of rain somebody's dressed as spring in heaven's masked ball earning only special mention árni ibsen 9:15 pm march 3 2004 stekkjarkinn 19 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 46 who would have thought the old man to have had so much water in him and such playful calculated fury the rain's hit our house squarely in the face for almost a week now our windeyes swollen and soaking and we have the drenched promise of no let up for a few days more a beautiful pregnant woman is making a case on the wireless in praise of the genious of plain simplicity and begins by playing bang bang he shot me down bang bang i hit the ground bang bang ... her face a smiley her cheeks flushed her eyes wide in wonder her baby due in a few days the treacherous shallows and the sands on the south coast claim yet another trawler the crew rescued this time by courage skill and technology before camera eyes while such worldly goods as catch hull nay hulk and trawl are slowly but surely munched by shifty grains of sand in a few days árni ibsen 12 noon, march 10 2004 stekkjarkinn 19 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 49 end of march a dying winter made the most of his last breath hurling a lame blizzard at us now uncool slowly surely the snow melts reluctant to let go árni ibsen 11 pm march 31 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland there's that parcel again that long-lost parcel admittedly a bit thinner yet bound with the same old string without its poem of origin nesting now in a different one perhaps one it has gathered through time like moss and it's turned pale blue it never was blue before it had simply the hue of pale yellow and brown as the lost poem in question and now there's an alien text attached telling me what's inside and it does seem to make sense árni ibsen 11:47 april 7 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 51 it's next morning already i'm saying to myself you're feeling you're behind again thinking i'd better make it snappy writing a brief text that'll assume the guise of a poem like this day which seen from a window looks so like summer so bright so clear forever is visible but the wind betrays the disguise and i know a biting northerly is snapping at the buds and come afternoon the sun will be dimmed by dust loose soil brought to us by windy airmail from the interior but sitting down to write my trouser button snaps and i must sow it on again making the waist wider before anything else can happen árni ibsen first light april 15 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland SNAPSHOT 52 not the last snapshot tho leaving tamarraw on a jet-plane soon to be back again yesterday a mad mad mad hunt for decent airfare finally settling on a via frankfurt ticket incredibly cheap which late tomorrow will take me into moscow russia getting a visa in 24 hours an experience worthy of story today the end of winter and tamarraw first day of summer árni ibsen 5:15 pm april 21 2004 hafnarfjördur iceland Poetryetc is a listserv relating to poetry and poetics which provides a forum for poets to debate their critical and creative work. The list has over the years run a number of projects for its members, of which Snapshots has been the most enduring. Every Wednesday, Poetryetc members were invited to post short poems on any subject or in any form they chose. The idea was to make a poetic collage of instamatic “snaps” of that day that reflected the international membership of the list. The project has generated an astounding number of poems. The first two runs, of six weeks each, and the first ten weeks of the third run, are archived at Wild Honey Press www.wildhoneypress.com under Poetryetc Project. The rest - amounting in all to a run of a year - are archived here. Poetryetc, like its affiliate Salt Publishing (http://www.saltpublishing.com), was founded by Australian poet John Kinsella. Salt is managed by Christopher Hamilton-Emery (cemery@saltpublishing.com), while Poetryetc is owned by Alison Croggon (ajcroggon@bigpond.com). Poetryetc is now archived at http://www.jiscmail.ac.uk/lists/poetryetc.html. and anyone interested can join from that url. To contact the listowner: Alison Croggon These pages are designed, maintained, and hosted by Rebecca Seiferle, the Editor of The Drunken Boat. To email. 
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