3:AM Magazine

The three prints are from a series I’m doing during the lockdown in London. They’re done on rough cardboard I take from bins and wherever they can be scavenged. Some are big and some are not. I pile them up in a room. They’re nearly up at the ceiling now. It’s making the room very dark. Many of them I can’t see all at once because they’re too large to display outside of a galery. Prints are run off from pictures I take on my phone. The paintings are just inchoate daubs. I don’t have the words or anything. But all this dying creeps into your dreams with a blank sad black and white feeling I guess.

In the 95th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Richard Marshall.

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lymph odes is an evolving poetic series that hopes – in its gestures and paradoxes – to exhibit the staged resolution of oncological traumas. One of the defining “hallmarks of cancer” is metastasis; in the Greek, ‘displacement’. The (ill)legibility of these poems, or ‘stagings’, is an attempt to aspirate the shifts and convictions, the matter-of-factness, the secluded anguish, and the sterile irony of a singular/personal non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma diagnosis at the age of twenty. Their visual starkness presents the exposure of lived realities, offering parallax displacements to perceptions and depictions of cancer, remission, and the chemotherapeutic experience.

In the 94th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Enis Yucekoralp.

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WST1 : This piece depicts Waardenburg Syndrome Type 1 in three formats: a drawing of syndromic, heterochromia eyes, with the double helix replacing the nose; a handwritten explanation of the underlying genetics; and a typed haiku describing my resultant appearance.

The Deafhearing community of Martha’s Vineyard : Due to hereditary deafness on the island, Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language became a lingua franca for its deafhearing community; since it was probably similar to British Sign Language, I have represented it by fingerspelling M V S L in British Sign Language (BSL).

‘Write a light poem about the zoo’ : This piece is a promotional flier for the category of ‘light poem’ within the traditional, Welsh medium, local eisteddfod event, which will take place in Rhosllannerchrugog in 2021 (having been postponed); the theme for the competition is ‘The zoo’.

Operation Yellow Hammer – meta : This piece relates to the British Government’s contingency plan for a no-deal Brexit, which was codenamed Yellow Hammer – a reference to the bird, whose call, onomatopoeically, sounds like ‘a little bit of bread and no cheese’.

In the 93rd of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Sara Louise Wheeler.

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There’s a charity shop near where I live that has a ‘free box’ outside the door filled with things deemed unworthy of a price tag.

I rummaged through the box and found this old folder of musical notation.

I imagined who it might’ve belonged to and conjured a vision of an austere piano teacher (male).

In the 93rd of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Michael Sutton.

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A tryptic of scribbled non-letterings, a following in pace of pen between focus and trance; drawn-writing and written-drawing of towards, the brief catharsis.

They are portraits of someone moving out of one as a restless into of no one.

They are, just about. Not without meaning but meaning not to be read. Entirely serious and ridiculous.

They don’t say much.

In the 91st of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by David Spittle.

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The Chips are Down Here in Lockdown, a work which was born out of the Covid 19 Lockdown. An outlet for the confusion, rage and helplessness that I often find myself experiencing during this unprecedented event, and an attempt to make some sense of it.

Look What the Cat Dragged In is a series of musings on the moral dilemmas that my cats confront me with, confessional in tone, they also delve into the more complex relationships that humans have with animals.

I like to follow my obsessions and see where they lead. Ideas often start with a seed from my everyday and not so everyday experiences which I then tease out into a larger forum to eke out more complex issues that lurk within. Turning the microcosm of daily encounters into the macrocosm of more universal and shared human experiences.

In the 90th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Carolyn Hashimoto.

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Though the groundbreaking literary gathering European Poetry festival has been postponed in its physical happening, in its stead are specially commissioned remote readings and performances in the vidpoe tradition from Max Höfler, Alessandro Burbank, Franziska Füchsl, Maria Val, Krisjanis Zelgis, Peter Zavada, Kornelia Deres and Stepan Hobza

Eight brand new video-poems by poets across Europe celebrating The European Poetry Festival.

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When i walk into a charity shop, i don’t know what i’m looking for. I’m just looking yet something always picks me. An individual item of clothing someone didn’t want anymore, but now i do and it fits and everything. These poems, or the process of making them, are a bit like that. I don’t really know what i’m looking for or what i want to make. it just happens. and it’s all rubbish. literally. I found all the materials on the street (pre Covid-19) and refashioned them into poetry. I’m like a magpie collecting shiny things for her nest. the page is a nest. a place where i collage visuals and words together automatically. Letting my unconscious mind play.

In the 89th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Kayleigh Cassidy.

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The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof quoted in subterfuge (Latin) in a tourist guide. Seeking an attraction, the town hired a man to rappel down into a scar in the earth, emitter of the local people’s deepest fears. Bats and humours. Shades of the ancient dead. Deep time. Castellana Grotte, land of my forebears. This is our story, an asemic family memoir.

In the 88th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Kimberly Campanello.

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Two weeks ago I was sorting books into boxes to give away to the local charity, when I found one of my favourite books – Aesop’s Fables. My parents gave it to me for my sixth birthday. A few pages from the index of stories had come loose and was yellowed at the edges. It was after all more than three decades old. I also found the handwritten manuscript of an old poem I wrote around the time I was 15, along with some other paper bits tucked inside the book. I gently removed the loose pages from the binding and cut the poem up into fragments. Using the old pages as base, I collaged the paper bits and used distress ink on them to match the look of the book, adding asemic writing, origami papers, and some stamps from my wooden stamp collection. The finished pieces became a representation of the passage of time – snatches of memory of good times in first grade, reading my favourite stories.

In the 87th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad.

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