Issue 25: David Annwn
Arcs in bold
and sets of cyclones that whirl around the planet's north and south poles like dancers around a maypole
and sets of cyclones that whirl around the planet's north and south poles like dancers around a maypole
flowers of Saturn, Capricorn's planet, are the heartsease, or pansy
Solomon’s seal
and Red Valerian
a cheerful and blowzy plant
Jupiter’s beard
kiss-me-quick, fox’s brush, spur valerian
seen on stone wall at Embsay Beck
Jupiter’s stormy winds churn Deep into the planet
Newton’s telescope was erected
upon the last
maypole resurrected
of Mary le Strand
to reckon the orbits of Saturn’s moons
and Jupiter’s.
This month-end
they combine
in closeness not seen
for eight hundred years
trees in our
kitchen reflection, cooker on 50
warming up
for farm-reared Lasagna,
to see all in a crepuscular
moment as unseen moth
warmth-seeking abdomen
inverted, sees this shape
identifies as me,
or sees self
seeing it, or not. Ornette
Coleman would be a refreshing
of the palette after such fare
but Bob James’ Fanfarinette’s Rameau
kitschified like suede hammers
in wooden silhouettes
we should go back before
the beginning: it was a car
with radio, and the lake still
in mid-consciousness, the
occasional rook, and a visit
to ourselves between lights
in the oncoming evening lane
verifying,
Newton used his observations of the moons’ orbits
measuring a celestial dance around the maypole
moons of Jupiter and Saturn
like a red rag to Arcimboldo
those vegetal heads, those four seasons
or elements presented in human form
Rise; and put on your foliage,
and be seene
wonder incessantly
Di a monde d
harle-quinned and quinced
it cannot sit still
restlessly
Arcimboldo
arc-en-circled
with whippoorwill and Peacock’s antennae
at May’s ninth gate
antic hay
plush jewels of a
pomegranate’s compartments
of no clear line
or no clear object
clearly itself
but clusters of
others, receding composures
composites
Baroque in cabinets bristling
stemmed diadems, corals
ids of crystalline
heads of lettuces
spirality
DNA
of a
dream
Logarithms were foreseen
in the stem serrations
of horsetail fern’s
ratios growing
every man every woman
at vanishing’s
an imploding planet
sucking a universe
in with it
with a black hole’s
vacuum to another side
of silence which is why
Ernst set his standards at
the borders of dream
intuition that far out
is escape
route?
Max Ernst had seen
humans de-anatomised
atomised
conturbat me
waymarkers across the ways that no mind knows,
totems, bird-heads,
across the limits
We have always looked at the sky seeking out secrets,
wondering about planets and stars. The Specola Tower was built
for this very
as a place from which to observe the movements and study astronomy.
In its rooms, including the Meridian Room, you will see
instruments used by astronomers, armillary spheres, orreries
wooden telescopes.
A.
James Watson
co-discoverer
of the structure of DNA
remembered stumbling
on the double helix
image for the chain
through a dream
of a spiral staircase
and Newton’s telescope on a pole of May
sophisticated Huygens’ lens
high on dancers’ circuits
drummed deep
with feet
Yea all which it inherit
and sets of cyclones that whirl around the planet's
abyssal silences forever each way timelessness
covered by fern and glossy earth
heartsease, or pansy & Red Valerian
outcrop grit sandstone quartz
diamonded
diamo a visit
to ourselves between lights
nded
a handful
of earth
dream seeds
Paracetescope
sails drapes slack
backbench
rowers revolt
Draconian
advent
fog rain courtesy veers.
coastline sinking south
these temperatures
are towns and cities
cloud romps
gradient in barometers
highland snow
low pressure taking charge
this stuff heavier bursts
is snow
Striae Across Preiddau
Golychaf wledic pendeuic gwlat ri
traeth mundi in a different hand, the ‘r’
of Preiddau, the long insular
crashes glass off the words,
ice-bar Brits jabber like jays
at Havneterminalen
dot commers
singsing of Pwyll and Pryderi
No neb kin noctis in go innit
yr gadwyn trom las kywirwas ae ketwi
sea-blue chains
inlink all
poesis;
bifurcating like split-ends:
y brawd
gwawd
gwayw
three roads the laws of three
spooled seven words slew the seven in me
yn freuddwyd gwrach y Freud
on Trollfjord
fullblood Apache Gil
weighs blue chains
of 70s/80s perpetual music
singing before the spoils
’s melting in McDark
and that man which gave rise to me
my Da on the Bofor’s gun
on the track of PQ17
a raid on the inART/ HUR/tig
u late
‘traeth mundi’ in a different hand
where sky’s sea
meets breath-strand
imagining gogledd Cymric colonial
stash Annwn,
HE was brusque sudden
clue:
underdeck-shadow by welded door
stood bras y penrwy
pissed as twenty Linie Aquavit
saying in suspect sais: “I used to be with
the Norwegian army
now run an ox-farm (Ovibos moschatus)”,
anomalous
as a holdful of ‘brindled ox’
Is that my worth--God’s little scribblers –
post-camp post-bastion
never saw Arthur cutting it
in Vardøhus fort the
northernmost
hard by Russ,
Nazi motorbike
frost-blebbed Messenger:
Schlaff ein Todesschlaf
Noire am pearl groomish rimmer
a ninja watchman no-go stand-off
scoping scavenger-bling
to unimagined inlet
the leather-jacketed frieze-painter
for on-board nursery,
falling distraught, denimed lap
“I was Olav Hauge’s lover!’
come this far norte, niver ferget:
dette er walismanens bytte
Ar (assent) thurt (thirst) tigru (tiger) grut (dim.) en (high priest)
singsong whoa bitter
Note:
‘Striae Across Preiddau’ scrapes multi-lingual striations or glacier-riffs across The Spoils of Annwn / Preiddeu Annwn (c. 9-12 C.E.) and tells of a sea-borne raid northwards. ‘Golychaf wledic’: I praise the Lord, Prince and King of the realm’. Uncanny echoes occur in the ‘brindled ox’ and the ice fortress of the Preiddeu and modern encounters with an ox-farmer and an ice drinks bar at Havneterminalen on a Hurtigruten cruise. There are references to the writer’s Welsh father’s experiences as a gunner on WWII convoys to Russia, the native American pianist Gil Silverbird and the Norwegian poet Olav Hauge.
Palimpsest
Of writing and dreaming writing under the writing
and working in the Vatican library,
Angelo Mai discovering under a common copy
of Augustine’s psalms
a work thought missing for eighteen centuries,
surfacing minutely: Cicero’s Republica containing
The Dream of Scipio, where he,
a young man visiting Africa
was visited by his deceased grandfather
in dream,
who lifted him up so that he looked down
‘from a high place full of stars, shining
and splendid’ where Carthage and Rome
were as nothing beside the blazing stars,
the vast universe and celestial spheres
and, as he stares in wonder, he begins to hear
a music ‘tantus et tam dulcis,’ so burgeoning
loud and sweet, it ravishes him
this ‘musica universalis’, and earth
he observes from snow fields to the deserts
complete
as if the soul were circle in circle conducive
to the whole, protected
within this far, high sound
rising from words eighteen centuries old
hidden beneath the rounds of psalms
so that the dream not be forgotten
rising beyond and towards us
as if the forgotten writing
were dreaming, mind through mind
of writing dreaming writing under the writing.
David Annwn (b. 1953) is a poet, playwright, critic, and authority on the phantasmagoria picture show. Great-nephew of the Welsh bard Ap Hefin (‘Son of the Summer Solstice’), he grew up in Cheshire, studied under Jeremy Hooker at Aberystwyth University, and now lives in Wakefield. He worked for the Open University in Manchester and Leeds and was the founder of the National Association of Writers in Education (NAWE).
His early poetry, selected in the spirit / that kiss (1993, North and South), shows the influence of Geoffrey Hill and his namesake David Jones, inflected by a love of jazz and Welsh origins. From the 1990s his work took a more radical turn, becoming increasingly virtuosic and multi-generic, with a penchant for wordplay, shapeshifting and performance in Bela Fawr’s Cabaret (2008, West House) and Disco Occident (2013, Knives Forks and Spoons).
David’s recent publications include Re-Envisaging the First Age of Cinematic Horror 1896-1934 (2018, University of Wales Press), Red Bank (2018, Knives Forks and Spoons) and Resonance Field (2020, Aquifer), which includes images from his collaborations with the master-calligrapher Thomas Ingmire and innovative filmmaker Howard Munson.
Copyright © 2021 by David Annwn, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.