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Red Ink: Pascal Vine
This a series where I interview poets about their process and writing in reference to a single poem. Today we have Pascal Vine, an excellent poet, a captivating performer and part of the team over at Bristol Tonic. He is discussing a poem he has performed for years.
In bloom
I cannot look away from the whorl of galaxies
tucked into each curled petal, the supermassive
black hole that sits on top of a stamen, dragging
all light and time towards it. In the pint glass
sepals shimmer with the burning of millions of dead
stars, buds flicker with a pulse of decaying planck
seconds, the superpositions of many possible worlds
blur each leaf and thorn and somewhere in each bloom
I am meeting you for the first time, walking around
the castle, studying in Birmingham, waiting to be
born, dying, watching a bouquet, unable to stay still,
unable to look away from the constant, dizzying spin.
Hibernating
Skeleton Trees
Helix
2020: A Playlist
I'm going to be featured in an upcoming anthology from Fevers of the Mind. The editor, David L O'Nan, asked for suggestions for a playlist of the music of 2020 whilst he was compiling it. So although last year is receding fast[1] , here are some songs that I enjoyed.
Call it what it is
Due to the sickening events of yesterday in the USA, I found myself thinking back to when I was studying Weimar Germany in A level history. My main question at the time was 'Did no one realise what was happening?' The answer is of course people did, but it was ignored by the leaders. By the time any action was taken it was too late.
Gradual
So Long 2020
Usually at the end of the year I write a little summary of what happened in the world at large. (2016, 2017, 2018, 2019.) This year I really struggled. How do you summarise what has happened this year, other than a absence? It's been terrible in so many ways. The pandemic has turned everything on it's head and thousands of people have died unnecessarily through our government's inaction. Let alone all the other problems that this virus has highlighted as deep rifts within our society.
Auld Lang Syne
We were meant to be children of the stars now, Richard thought to himself as he buttoned up his coat. Humans were meant to have escaped this lonely planet and headed out into the void. We were meant to be interplanetary trans dimensional demi-gods by now. Or so the stories and films promised us. Instead, we are all trapped on this dark planet, watching the chaos get worse. Every day, another headline about a corrupt politician or science gone wrong or children roaming the streets causing violence and destruction. It was getting worse by the day.