Kodak 1922 Kodachrome Film Test

Le Royaume des Fées (1903) --Kingdom of the Faeries

pretties (ellen rogers)

http://www.ellenrogers.co.uk/

Leda and the Swan

this frame is a poem,

a ladybird, whitewreathed

and winged and waist-

deep laced in godly plumage,

steeped in folds and cushion.

here, it is as if

she, Ledabird, is

tucked between reds

and cream to dream.

she might be

praying. to what god?

to a swan impregnating

her gilded folds.

resuscitation

channel the raw mood,
flavor of carnal. carve
until the soul.
it wakes, it goes,
its fictions fresh,
its frictions flanking
my flesh. hummingbird heart
beats the rib cage, milkfossil.
undust the jade, my ripped eye.
tell it how to dismantle,
reassemble, deforest, and
rekindle the panoramic
splinters. retina drinks
them in, cool ether. spouts
them back like bile. I have
seen the moon hang and smeared
his cratered smile.

writer's block

this poem is littered and battered like
trajectory ink spatter, sputtering
the failure, I. awk-
wardly complilate to relate
my jinga ladder
of a mind. never-
mind. poetic collateral, dam-
aged. call it what it is,
labotomy, ahold of me,
cranial collapse, mismanaged.
call it
the death of me. I caught
it again.
It's got me pinned.
I'm at the tip
of my skull scratching
again. like lice born within
the bittersweet fountain-
pen. they're draining,
straining my brain
like liquor. I'll consume
them. this poem's already
chronic and crippled.

an understanding

look at what we whisper in

swift conversation, the eggshells

of histories, eye-

blink translations. decipher

the howling enigma,

stain of my tattered

flesh, heart, soul, the permeable

membrane of I,

me without

anyone

else. me without

your shoulder and saphire

stare. without your vintage

ties you wear. rooks and tangerine

diamonds. you collect them justbecause

you crave to be

distinguished or unfringed,

gathered in the irises

of eavesdroppers. you collect

me. coffeetable paper,

mound of imperfect

poetry,

incongrous nouns we sit,

agreeably.

a perennial sleepyhead bed.

one could do worse than keep going around in circles.