Slurp, Gulp and Start on Sounds

Chris Lorensson
  • 0.0 (0)
  • PERSONAL JOURNALS
  • SERIES

In 2011 I finished creating my poetry anthology. Excited to publish, I ordered a hard copy to finally proofread. That copy arrived, but then my hard drive died—taking all the files with it. The book was never published, and this singular copy has been on my shelf ever since. But now, I’m sharing it with you. In this podcast, I’m reading poems from the book, and diving more deeply into some of them.

  1. EPISODE 1

    The Book and Introduction

    In this first episode, I describe the design of the book, and then read the back cover and Introduction.

    11 min

  2. EPISODE 2

    The Slide Projector

    There are so many shades of red  on one projection slide.  Given enough butter and fat,  a chocolate cake can slide...  along the length and width of a room  on any given intensity-  on each red ray that is projected-  on every colour, in fact- it can. A high-speed, clicking, monotonous tone  will show you how this cake can move! With every snap of plastic forms  a beam will push on our beloved  across any length and width of space,  back and forth- seeming redundant.  After each "PATT!!" is distinct  we'll use controls to feed our mouths-  we'll push and tap to feel content-  then chew and gulp and start on sounds.

    3 min

  3. EPISODE 3

    When I Look into the Darkness I See an Overflow

    When I look into the darkness I see an overflow. I see pain upon pain laying the foundations for love.  I see paint on bricks that wall up that love.  I recognise that love is not subjective, it's offensive enough. I know this Japanese tile the village painted red.  I know it only comes in blue.  I understand why they did it overnight – painting their rooftops red.           I feel the sorrow that won't stop releasing, slowly recommending            ways we should be at ease.   of life in tragedy that fits some sick organisation.  of life that can't seem to fit things together; I live here, too.  of ways that we will not understand I don't know what to do: There's a stream just across that meadow that has a Blue Japanese bridge spanning over it, looking a million years old – but you want it in your lounge.  Visiting seems uncouth at the time, but offense can be put aside.  Standing on top, it starts to slide back and forth, the planks will slide under your feet.  Reality is rapidly waning like a crane swooping closer and closer toward the largest minnow in Lake Toluca.  The minnow doesn't know – just like you. When I look into the darkness I see an overflow. The pain covers up any way we could ever divulge  the pain... roping 'round a wooden bench.  The pain is subjective, it is not love.  It's offensive enough. Your swiss love wraps around the rope, around the bench;  coating the whole thing in cheese oil and making it holy.  The pain is subjective to Holiness.           Around the rope, around the bench, around the coating            of the cheese.  Holiness. in cursing things that need cursing.  in throwing things that need throwing.  in screaming out "recognition to the profane!" Here's what we'll do: Start to run.  Don't worry about catching up – the planks turn red, but don't stop.  Don't worry about progression.  Swoop down as if you were the crane.  Reach the ground and pluck up each plank as they turn red:  Red, swoop, one.  Red, swoop, two.  Red, swoop, three.  You're also the biggest minnow in Lake Toluca. When I look into the darkness I see an overflow. Painful things stir up our emotions.  Painful times are a lot like starry nights –  in that the pain can be overwhelming. I want a black permanent marker to scratch it out;  describing the scratching as it scratches.  I want the marker to become me and then run out of ink           ink wells up inside me, staining all I know.            It starts to kindle some new chance for hope.   With playing games that come from your heart.  With diff'rent ways to play those games.  With finding friends that love your games. What happened: You can't be two things at once - so the planks picked up and arranged themselves in ways that are beyond your understanding.  You can't swoop underwater and you can't pickup a plank if you're a minnow.  The bridge is gone, but you're still standing there - pretending to be a crane and a minnow.  Red, swoop, four.  Red, swoop, five.  Red, s

    7 min

  4. EPISODE 4 BONUS

    Deep Dive: When I Look into the Darkness I see an Overflow

    In this special episode, I do a deeper dive into the metaphors, feelings and prose in the previous episode's poem: When I Look into the Darkness I See an Overflow

    7 min

  5. EPISODE 5

    Popping the Top of a Bottled Solution

    Cough - cough - walk candied staple caves to practice active-ness in ways up on sandied bubble-wrap popping the top of a bottled solution: I'll make the day go by incase         we find a reason why!         You step up to the plate         for the first time in years,         it seems impersonal,         You've justified your ways         since you were eight years old.         Yeah – we're very handy..         in ways we'll never know. There's no discovery while bitterness is in – we wait for trends to pass         while fads start to set in. They say fads never last but I've seen them stand fast         year-end through year-begin. While we're popping the top of a bottled solution         our minds are fast at work:                 1) that 2% is working hard                 2) that past is hard at work!

    4 min

  6. EPISODE 6

    Words in Mind

    I can play word games, they're all just mind games.  Once a year.  Where I was raised we put our words where our tiles are. We could communicate by our tiles, layout being context  and turns being yours or mine. Orientation would say what I really mean  while your choice of diction's what's in your eyes.         I won't miss you all year [ E1 N2 V4 I1 O2 U4 S3 ] total= 17 pts.         But I meant to call [ Z10 Y8 G3 O2 T1 E1 ] total= 25 pts.         Play like we don’t know [ L2 I1 K3 E1 N2 ] total= 9 pts.         How much we know [ C2 O2 L2 T1 ] total= 7 pts. There’s a lot to be said  And ‘we all want to know’ –  and to hang out So we just play word games.  Once a year, we play word games.  We’ll spell out our souls worst fears, and talk about God.         I am in such a rut [ L2 O2 V4 E1 L2 I1 N2 E1 S3 S3 ] total= 21 pts.         Will you pray for me? [ G3 R2 A1 F3 F3 I1 T1 I1 ] total= 15 pts.         I forgive you [ L2 A1 Y8 E1 R2 E1 D2 ] total= 17 pts.         Thanks [ C2 O2 N2 T1 R2 O2 L2 ] total= 13 pts.

    4 min

  7. EPISODE 7

    Asleep on our Knees

    We could be depraved any minute of the day,          laid down like Cayman Islands' habitual silence.         laid down like flaming wicker, flames and flicker. There's peace in absence – and I'm left wanting We balance atop a playful STAND [who]  promises to support us [and]  oath like no one else can do.  help lay down my head, upon a pillow          on my bed We could be engaged   any   minute   of   the   day          wand'ring about why, or          wond'ring about why But we stay  —  straight. We discuss the ways to stay up late:  Cappuccino, látte, Betty Page.  Wilford Brimley, Bonnie Raitt.         We construct a waiting game –          playing each-others' turns away. Keep our feet on the ground,  our heads are in the clouds,  stop the discussion & get us down,  with oath like no one else can do– promise to support me. We stay  on display  any minute of  the day.         Fingers twitching, let us speak.          We're needy kids so leave us be.          Hit me with that Windex, kid –          and clear a way for us to leave.         laid down We go down, and sleep on our knees.  Time slows by, and then rewinds.  We arise, still hear breathing like too much reverb… exhaling wet breath on our jeans.          un-do-ing our seams           unravelling           exposing our knees Asleep when things aren't always as they seem, reluctant,  to expose anything, like, say, ourselves                                                                                                         ever again                 There's enough of that in the world, but people keep on giving                  Such generosity mends itself like a soldier in the bush                  tending to press-on rather than dress his wounds.                 Such exposition's like endless direction…                  Concentration as time,     sadly ends.         Clamber…          up and be on the right or left side          to begin.          It's all so messy, but we must begin.

    14 min

  8. EPISODE 8

    Surround Out

    Surround out.  Surround out. Life and time- "oh what the hell..." is life to rhyme the citadel;  the maiden's fairest waif of all- This burden of a life for us will crush our hope in knowledge- -will can a love for fear of God.          This isn't a lame excuse for us- it's just a burden of life for us.          It's love for God in all the wrong places- in my hearts dark cave of abstinent spaces.          It's time well spent in searching for loosely scattered jewels and lace.          One can near expect the bar to raise up higher than high is high          in th'midst of bloody, laborious eyes.  They have it all- all in what they looked for. Life and time- "I'll have it all!" before the audience' last HURRAH!; they're fat with hist'ries and wedding gifts. -They're fit to lift up hands of praise to offer fat and sand and maize; History will record a life and time of citadelish lover's crush. and that'll tell us all of what the life and time has burdened us.

    3 min
See All Season 1 (26)

About

In 2011 I finished creating my poetry anthology. Excited to publish, I ordered a hard copy to finally proofread. That copy arrived, but then my hard drive died—taking all the files with it. The book was never published, and this singular copy has been on my shelf ever since. But now, I’m sharing it with you. In this podcast, I’m reading poems from the book, and diving more deeply into some of them.

Information