Image

My Body Is A Word (2:23min)


direct link to SoundCloud: My Body Is A Word by Brenda Clews

Brenda Clews, poetry, voice, mix.
Music, Lena Selyanina's piano solo, 'Summer Morning,' from "Snowstorm Romance": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/73627 .



direct link to SoundClick: My Body Is A Word


The album of poetry recordings that I am working on seems to be on a theme of love. I don't have a whole lot of love poems, in the 'I and Thou' form. 'My Body Is A Word' is an older poem that I had up at my original and now defunct art website. It seems to work in context of the album, and also, hopefully, on its own.

A tiny chorus of voices, yes, positioned behind the main voice.






MY BODY IS A WORD

I

My body is a delta
awash with scripture
rivers of language flow over my tongue,
raw with salt.

My body is a delta
of waterways, signs,
inscribed, and gendered,
my body is tattooed
with the blue veins of roses.

II

I am rain falling on the edges of leaves;
I am earth, wet, a glistening emerald;
I am a breath of fire on the horizon at dawn;
I am a white orchid unlacing.

I am the succulence of the peeling of fresh fruit,
juice of mango, orange, kiwi, bloodred pomegranate;
the thorns of the pineapple rind fall into the sink.

Remember when
our bodies flowing
into the flowing warmth of each other,
paradise on the horizon of being.

Our bodies flowing, washing the world.

Our scripts intertwining the way
we endlessly write our lives.

I am the crimson space
in your heart.

You are the calyx of flowers reaching for the rain;
You are the sun ripening the fruit;
You are the awakening of the world;
You are the origin of the alphabet of love.

I read your body every day,
finding a script
like traces vanishing in the night
of light everywhere.


© 2003 by Brenda Clews
Recording, 2010

_____
(Note: Trying out different players - Sitemeter is my storage site for recordings, especially as how SC allows edited versions to be uploaded into the same url. Once the 'album' is finished, I'll upload it to Jamendo, where it will be available for free download. Any feedback now can aid help me in the creation of this collection of recordings - and I thank those of you who have offered responses and suggestions. It all really helps.)


Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments (2)

What Is Underground Is What Holds Us






I

You rise out of flat stone
the shield
of your heart.
The moon crosses the sun.
Do we
become light
when we dream?

The folds of your corduroy
like ridges and hollows
furrows where the Spring runoff
sculpts a geology
in a landscape of tundra.
"passageways and connections that
happen deep within us when in relation
to another..." Nancy Otto
In our Klondike, cross and beams
hold the tunnels we dig through
to find the gold in each other,
rich veins tracing through the rock
like sunlight.

II

Spring is a tendril
of green;
the leaves a papery mass of veins unfolding.

Cliffs of grass by the old mine ripple
in the wind.

We are like those two trees
ancient, weathered, yet
our roots thoroughly
intertwined.

What is
underground
is what holds us.

The deeper passageways
and connections.

III

I wear the crescent moon in my hair,
the cold northern air;
you are the sun buried in the land,
illumined from within.

The sharp edges
in each moment
bind us.

My Adoni, my Aholi,

even in this harsh typography
you are a landscape of love,
a cartography of desire.

©Brenda Clews 2006




>





Photographs were taken by me.

Poem and commentary written in April, 2006:


The title that I had thought of is a line from a poem by Hafiz, the 14th c Sufi master:
Our Destiny Is To Turn Into Light.

Here's the poem:

Faithful Lover

The moon came to me last night
With a sweet question.

She said,

"The sun has been my faithful lover
For millions of years.

Whenever I offer my body to him
Brilliant light pours from his heart.

Thousands then notice my happiness
And delight in pointing
Towards my beauty.

Hafiz,
Is it true that our destiny
Is to turn into Light
itself?"

Hafiz, The Gift, trans. Daniel Ladinsky (Toronto: Penguin, 1999), p.159.


While my poem is about light, it's really about roots, and works off Nancy Otto's lines (she's an artist who creates small, stunning glass sculptures where she explores our inner consciousnesses, our inner lives, the deep channels and underground ways that we connect).

Adoni and Aholi are both gods of nature: one ancient Phoenician; the other, ruler of the Pikya clan of Native Americans. Nature is usually imaged as a woman, but sometimes as a man - the dying & resurrected god.

Also I'm currently not just crazy about Hafiz, but also Pablo Neruda, his love poems, and Juan O'Neill's translation of Macchu Picchu.
Comments

An Antonio Servillo painting



I am moved deeply by this image. Antonio Servillo seems to paint my life as it often feels. Meaning his art speaks to me on deep levels of experience. Life is anything but a giddy, happy run-through. Though there is laughter, without which it would be impossible. The woman in Servillo's painting struggles. Such deep and abiding passion I see in her amidst many constraints.


Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Salt of the Sea




direct link: Salt of the Sea.
Livio Amato's, 'Dream Opening,' from his album, "Sensitivity"


Salt of the Sea

             She said seawards-
"Salt in the seas
like the blood in tears,
a forced forment of waves:
our cries, rushed into
life, and death,
a barge that carries
souls to the other side
of nowhere."

The moon slides
into a shell
conch, cone, harp, volva
that hears
our whisperings-
breeze, seafoam.

This season of weathered wood, amniotic
scent.

Inner forces drive the ocean.

Mystery emerges and recedes like waves
opening dreams.

Osprey and clouds sail high over surf.

Print the soul in the flag to fray.
Rocks rubbing in water become sand.
Wet sand under the pincers of crabs who burrow.
The warp and weave of the ocean slapping
at our consciousnesses.

You came, on a minion of steel, the noise
of condensed crowds. Like an engine
of grief. Imprinted with caustic
wax winds. Ripe as a
salt flower.

With blue love on your lips
the colour of seaspray.



The sea drops its showers
of diamonds on our skin.

We waited for each other
in the violins
of wind.

The water
thick with history.

I placed my heart
in your stone
chest.

A wave gives to another wave
its white wedding foam.

Here in the depths of understanding
among the seahorses and anemones,
graves, lovers, sunken dreams,
buried treasures.


"Love, love until the night
falls swiftly."
Pablo Neruda



(I took this photo in North Vancouver, 2003)

blog banner, left, for feeds like facebook; 
 below, icon links to my webpages
Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Starfire in the Night





direct link to the recording of the poem: Starfire in the Night.
Moi, poetry, voice, mix. Music: Frank Harper's beautiful 'Moon's Eve,'
from "Fingerstyle - Set 1": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/62508.





Album cover from a painting of mine - see original poem and painting,
from a post on Feb 27, 2009. (And actually I think I threw out the painting
in a funk one day.)




click on images for larger size

Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Hieroglyphic of Purple Lotuses


direct link: Hieroglyphic of Purple Lotuses.
Music, the last half of Ka eN's, "Oriental Dreams"
(shortened for the length of the poem, do listen to the whole track,
it's lovely): http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/42617

A poetry recording - I continue experimenting with vocal patterns. :-)
My son called this one "trippy." Rather a compliment, I felt. :-)
.



A poem on poetry. Surreal, with an interweaving love poem.

The first writing ever discovered is of accounts, financial dealings. Not myth, or poetry:

"First our bodies; then our souls.
I owe you; you owe me; they owe us; we owe them."

History - the Rossetta Stone, the key to reading the hieroglyphics of Ancient Egyptian language. Translation.

How we translate each other.

The strange and mystical magic of Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses, their stately and regal motion, on a barge in the landscape of our surreal dreams:

"Or why the barge transporting
stone still gods with the heads of
falcons
wearing Khonsu headdresses,
full moons on crescent moons,
is heaped with purple
lotuses.

Khonsu
great snake who
fertilizes the
cosmic egg.

Sometimes."

click images for larger size

Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Sep 2019 (5)
Aug 2019 (1)
Jul 2019 (6)
May 2019 (2)
Apr 2019 (1)
Feb 2019 (1)
Jan 2019 (1)
Nov 2018 (2)
Sep 2018 (1)
Aug 2018 (3)
Jul 2018 (1)
May 2018 (1)
Apr 2018 (12)
Mar 2018 (5)
Feb 2018 (3)
Jan 2018 (4)
Dec 2017 (3)
Nov 2017 (1)
Oct 2017 (10)
Sep 2017 (1)
Aug 2017 (3)
Jul 2017 (1)
Jun 2017 (3)
May 2017 (5)
Apr 2017 (2)
Mar 2017 (3)
Feb 2017 (1)
Jan 2017 (5)
Dec 2016 (8)
Nov 2016 (3)
Oct 2016 (3)
Sep 2016 (1)
Aug 2016 (8)
Jul 2016 (6)
Jun 2016 (3)
May 2016 (7)
Apr 2016 (10)
Mar 2016 (5)
Feb 2016 (5)
Jan 2016 (4)
Oct 2014 (13)
Sep 2014 (6)
Aug 2014 (11)
Jul 2014 (9)
Jun 2014 (9)
May 2014 (9)
Apr 2014 (17)
Mar 2014 (5)
Feb 2014 (8)
Jan 2014 (13)
Dec 2013 (11)
Nov 2013 (7)
Oct 2013 (13)
Sep 2013 (6)
Aug 2013 (8)
Jul 2013 (5)
Jan 2013 (12)
Dec 2012 (11)
Nov 2012 (16)
Oct 2012 (11)
Sep 2012 (20)
Aug 2012 (19)
Jul 2012 (17)
Jun 2012 (12)
May 2012 (14)
Apr 2012 (18)
Oct 2011 (17)
Sep 2011 (19)
Aug 2011 (23)
Jul 2011 (48)
Jun 2011 (18)
May 2011 (17)
Apr 2011 (8)
Jan 2011 (19)
Dec 2010 (20)
Nov 2010 (7)
Oct 2010 (10)
Sep 2010 (3)
Aug 2010 (6)
Jul 2010 (6)
Jun 2010 (15)
May 2010 (10)
Apr 2010 (12)
Mar 2010 (9)
Feb 2010 (12)
Jan 2010 (20)
Dec 2009 (1)
May 2009 (19)
Apr 2009 (17)
Mar 2009 (13)
Feb 2009 (22)
Jan 2009 (26)
Dec 2008 (19)
Nov 2008 (26)
Oct 2008 (8)
Jan 2008 (7)
Dec 2007 (13)
Nov 2007 (19)
Oct 2007 (19)
Sep 2007 (16)
Aug 2007 (11)
Jul 2007 (8)
Jun 2007 (5)
May 2007 (6)
Apr 2007 (8)
Mar 2007 (7)
Feb 2007 (10)
Jan 2007 (15)
Dec 2006 (6)
Aug 2006 (21)
Jul 2006 (21)
Jun 2006 (25)
May 2006 (18)
Apr 2006 (18)
Mar 2006 (23)
Feb 2006 (21)
Jan 2006 (3)
Jul 2005 (7)
Jun 2005 (16)
May 2005 (7)
Apr 2005 (16)
Mar 2005 (18)
Feb 2005 (7)
Jan 2005 (1)
Sep 2004 (1)
Jun 2004 (12)
May 2004 (1)
Oct 2003 (1)
RSS Feed 

Warning: array_multisort(): Array sizes are inconsistent in /home/brendacl/public_html/Blog/index.php on line 783

My Body Is A Word (2:23min)


direct link to SoundCloud: My Body Is A Word by Brenda Clews

Brenda Clews, poetry, voice, mix.
Music, Lena Selyanina's piano solo, 'Summer Morning,' from "Snowstorm Romance": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/73627 .



direct link to SoundClick: My Body Is A Word


The album of poetry recordings that I am working on seems to be on a theme of love. I don't have a whole lot of love poems, in the 'I and Thou' form. 'My Body Is A Word' is an older poem that I had up at my original and now defunct art website. It seems to work in context of the album, and also, hopefully, on its own.

A tiny chorus of voices, yes, positioned behind the main voice.






MY BODY IS A WORD

I

My body is a delta
awash with scripture
rivers of language flow over my tongue,
raw with salt.

My body is a delta
of waterways, signs,
inscribed, and gendered,
my body is tattooed
with the blue veins of roses.

II

I am rain falling on the edges of leaves;
I am earth, wet, a glistening emerald;
I am a breath of fire on the horizon at dawn;
I am a white orchid unlacing.

I am the succulence of the peeling of fresh fruit,
juice of mango, orange, kiwi, bloodred pomegranate;
the thorns of the pineapple rind fall into the sink.

Remember when
our bodies flowing
into the flowing warmth of each other,
paradise on the horizon of being.

Our bodies flowing, washing the world.

Our scripts intertwining the way
we endlessly write our lives.

I am the crimson space
in your heart.

You are the calyx of flowers reaching for the rain;
You are the sun ripening the fruit;
You are the awakening of the world;
You are the origin of the alphabet of love.

I read your body every day,
finding a script
like traces vanishing in the night
of light everywhere.


© 2003 by Brenda Clews
Recording, 2010

_____
(Note: Trying out different players - Sitemeter is my storage site for recordings, especially as how SC allows edited versions to be uploaded into the same url. Once the 'album' is finished, I'll upload it to Jamendo, where it will be available for free download. Any feedback now can aid help me in the creation of this collection of recordings - and I thank those of you who have offered responses and suggestions. It all really helps.)


Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments (2)

What Is Underground Is What Holds Us






I

You rise out of flat stone
the shield
of your heart.
The moon crosses the sun.
Do we
become light
when we dream?

The folds of your corduroy
like ridges and hollows
furrows where the Spring runoff
sculpts a geology
in a landscape of tundra.
"passageways and connections that
happen deep within us when in relation
to another..." Nancy Otto
In our Klondike, cross and beams
hold the tunnels we dig through
to find the gold in each other,
rich veins tracing through the rock
like sunlight.

II

Spring is a tendril
of green;
the leaves a papery mass of veins unfolding.

Cliffs of grass by the old mine ripple
in the wind.

We are like those two trees
ancient, weathered, yet
our roots thoroughly
intertwined.

What is
underground
is what holds us.

The deeper passageways
and connections.

III

I wear the crescent moon in my hair,
the cold northern air;
you are the sun buried in the land,
illumined from within.

The sharp edges
in each moment
bind us.

My Adoni, my Aholi,

even in this harsh typography
you are a landscape of love,
a cartography of desire.

©Brenda Clews 2006




>





Photographs were taken by me.

Poem and commentary written in April, 2006:


The title that I had thought of is a line from a poem by Hafiz, the 14th c Sufi master:
Our Destiny Is To Turn Into Light.

Here's the poem:

Faithful Lover

The moon came to me last night
With a sweet question.

She said,

"The sun has been my faithful lover
For millions of years.

Whenever I offer my body to him
Brilliant light pours from his heart.

Thousands then notice my happiness
And delight in pointing
Towards my beauty.

Hafiz,
Is it true that our destiny
Is to turn into Light
itself?"

Hafiz, The Gift, trans. Daniel Ladinsky (Toronto: Penguin, 1999), p.159.


While my poem is about light, it's really about roots, and works off Nancy Otto's lines (she's an artist who creates small, stunning glass sculptures where she explores our inner consciousnesses, our inner lives, the deep channels and underground ways that we connect).

Adoni and Aholi are both gods of nature: one ancient Phoenician; the other, ruler of the Pikya clan of Native Americans. Nature is usually imaged as a woman, but sometimes as a man - the dying & resurrected god.

Also I'm currently not just crazy about Hafiz, but also Pablo Neruda, his love poems, and Juan O'Neill's translation of Macchu Picchu.
Comments

An Antonio Servillo painting



I am moved deeply by this image. Antonio Servillo seems to paint my life as it often feels. Meaning his art speaks to me on deep levels of experience. Life is anything but a giddy, happy run-through. Though there is laughter, without which it would be impossible. The woman in Servillo's painting struggles. Such deep and abiding passion I see in her amidst many constraints.


Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Salt of the Sea




direct link: Salt of the Sea.
Livio Amato's, 'Dream Opening,' from his album, "Sensitivity"


Salt of the Sea

             She said seawards-
"Salt in the seas
like the blood in tears,
a forced forment of waves:
our cries, rushed into
life, and death,
a barge that carries
souls to the other side
of nowhere."

The moon slides
into a shell
conch, cone, harp, volva
that hears
our whisperings-
breeze, seafoam.

This season of weathered wood, amniotic
scent.

Inner forces drive the ocean.

Mystery emerges and recedes like waves
opening dreams.

Osprey and clouds sail high over surf.

Print the soul in the flag to fray.
Rocks rubbing in water become sand.
Wet sand under the pincers of crabs who burrow.
The warp and weave of the ocean slapping
at our consciousnesses.

You came, on a minion of steel, the noise
of condensed crowds. Like an engine
of grief. Imprinted with caustic
wax winds. Ripe as a
salt flower.

With blue love on your lips
the colour of seaspray.



The sea drops its showers
of diamonds on our skin.

We waited for each other
in the violins
of wind.

The water
thick with history.

I placed my heart
in your stone
chest.

A wave gives to another wave
its white wedding foam.

Here in the depths of understanding
among the seahorses and anemones,
graves, lovers, sunken dreams,
buried treasures.


"Love, love until the night
falls swiftly."
Pablo Neruda



(I took this photo in North Vancouver, 2003)

blog banner, left, for feeds like facebook; 
 below, icon links to my webpages
Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Starfire in the Night





direct link to the recording of the poem: Starfire in the Night.
Moi, poetry, voice, mix. Music: Frank Harper's beautiful 'Moon's Eve,'
from "Fingerstyle - Set 1": http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/62508.





Album cover from a painting of mine - see original poem and painting,
from a post on Feb 27, 2009. (And actually I think I threw out the painting
in a funk one day.)




click on images for larger size

Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Hieroglyphic of Purple Lotuses


direct link: Hieroglyphic of Purple Lotuses.
Music, the last half of Ka eN's, "Oriental Dreams"
(shortened for the length of the poem, do listen to the whole track,
it's lovely): http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/42617

A poetry recording - I continue experimenting with vocal patterns. :-)
My son called this one "trippy." Rather a compliment, I felt. :-)
.



A poem on poetry. Surreal, with an interweaving love poem.

The first writing ever discovered is of accounts, financial dealings. Not myth, or poetry:

"First our bodies; then our souls.
I owe you; you owe me; they owe us; we owe them."

History - the Rossetta Stone, the key to reading the hieroglyphics of Ancient Egyptian language. Translation.

How we translate each other.

The strange and mystical magic of Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses, their stately and regal motion, on a barge in the landscape of our surreal dreams:

"Or why the barge transporting
stone still gods with the heads of
falcons
wearing Khonsu headdresses,
full moons on crescent moons,
is heaped with purple
lotuses.

Khonsu
great snake who
fertilizes the
cosmic egg.

Sometimes."

click images for larger size

Home    Different, yet Same    Recent Work    Videopoetry    Celestial Dancers    Photopoems    Birthdance    Bliss Queen    Bio    Life Drawings    Earth Rising    Creative Process    Soirée    Links    Comments
Comments

Sep 2019 (5)
Aug 2019 (1)
Jul 2019 (6)
May 2019 (2)
Apr 2019 (1)
Feb 2019 (1)
Jan 2019 (1)
Nov 2018 (2)
Sep 2018 (1)
Aug 2018 (3)
Jul 2018 (1)
May 2018 (1)
Apr 2018 (12)
Mar 2018 (5)
Feb 2018 (3)
Jan 2018 (4)
Dec 2017 (3)
Nov 2017 (1)
Oct 2017 (10)
Sep 2017 (1)
Aug 2017 (3)
Jul 2017 (1)
Jun 2017 (3)
May 2017 (5)
Apr 2017 (2)
Mar 2017 (3)
Feb 2017 (1)
Jan 2017 (5)
Dec 2016 (8)
Nov 2016 (3)
Oct 2016 (3)
Sep 2016 (1)
Aug 2016 (8)
Jul 2016 (6)
Jun 2016 (3)
May 2016 (7)
Apr 2016 (10)
Mar 2016 (5)
Feb 2016 (5)
Jan 2016 (4)
Oct 2014 (13)
Sep 2014 (6)
Aug 2014 (11)
Jul 2014 (9)
Jun 2014 (9)
May 2014 (9)
Apr 2014 (17)
Mar 2014 (5)
Feb 2014 (8)
Jan 2014 (13)
Dec 2013 (11)
Nov 2013 (7)
Oct 2013 (13)
Sep 2013 (6)
Aug 2013 (8)
Jul 2013 (5)
Jan 2013 (12)
Dec 2012 (11)
Nov 2012 (16)
Oct 2012 (11)
Sep 2012 (20)
Aug 2012 (19)
Jul 2012 (17)
Jun 2012 (12)
May 2012 (14)
Apr 2012 (18)
Oct 2011 (17)
Sep 2011 (19)
Aug 2011 (23)
Jul 2011 (48)
Jun 2011 (18)
May 2011 (17)
Apr 2011 (8)
Jan 2011 (19)
Dec 2010 (20)
Nov 2010 (7)
Oct 2010 (10)
Sep 2010 (3)
Aug 2010 (6)
Jul 2010 (6)
Jun 2010 (15)
May 2010 (10)
Apr 2010 (12)
Mar 2010 (9)
Feb 2010 (12)
Jan 2010 (20)
Dec 2009 (1)
May 2009 (19)
Apr 2009 (17)
Mar 2009 (13)
Feb 2009 (22)
Jan 2009 (26)
Dec 2008 (19)
Nov 2008 (26)
Oct 2008 (8)
Jan 2008 (7)
Dec 2007 (13)
Nov 2007 (19)
Oct 2007 (19)
Sep 2007 (16)
Aug 2007 (11)
Jul 2007 (8)
Jun 2007 (5)
May 2007 (6)
Apr 2007 (8)
Mar 2007 (7)
Feb 2007 (10)
Jan 2007 (15)
Dec 2006 (6)
Aug 2006 (21)
Jul 2006 (21)
Jun 2006 (25)
May 2006 (18)
Apr 2006 (18)
Mar 2006 (23)
Feb 2006 (21)
Jan 2006 (3)
Jul 2005 (7)
Jun 2005 (16)
May 2005 (7)
Apr 2005 (16)
Mar 2005 (18)
Feb 2005 (7)
Jan 2005 (1)
Sep 2004 (1)
Jun 2004 (12)
May 2004 (1)
Oct 2003 (1)
RSS Feed 

© 2019 Brenda Clews Contact Me

Thank you for visiting, and come back soon.