Mark Roberts
Two Poems on Films
The Train Stop — directed by Sergei Loznitsa (2000)
Child breathes a mother moves symmetry of sleep old men snoring face in shadow eyes open as if in
death old woman thin gray hair hands move shoulder shrugs a smock worn over a dress
two men are sleeping legs spread newspaper distorted head back laboured breath
teeth and nostrils a face lined and scared from the wind head cradled in a hand
sound of rain the slow movement of breathing a creaking as if on a ship a
blur of hats and perspective moving in and out of focus with each
breath wind the sound of winter work boots and fur hats
a row of men asleep on hard seats a bald head and
glasses a train whistle roar of engine carriages
rushing past no one stirs an old woman
wakes rubs her face settles back into
sleep shoes on a patterned
floor exterior shot door
two lit windows
train whistle
a cry
Factory — directed by Sergei Loznitsa (2004)
walk past the honour board
heroes of a forgotten five year plan
climb
                              out of
                                             the furnace
were you cleaning it
or just looking for somewhere warm to rest
flames in the desolation
of the factory floor
piano music
while you smoke
& drink black tea with honey to
clear your throat of the after taste
of burning metal
the phone rings but isn’t answered
                              the furnace roars
metal flows
               like words
                              poured into
                                             molds
remade poems
glow and spark
I know what colour your fucking eyes are
red shoes clack on cobblestones. do you think
you are a fucking cardinal or something.
behind you there are overturned tramcars -
is this a vision of my future or am i seated
in a cinema? these days my dreams
seem like a montage of 1970's european movies
where the main character is subtitled
and is killed in a bomb blast in the final scene.
Mark Roberts lives and writes in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. He is the co-editor of Rochford Street Review (https://rochfordstreetreview.com/) and has been extensively published in literary magazines in Australia and overseas. His latest collection, Concrete Flamingos, was published by Island Press in 2016.
previous page     contents     next page
Two Poems on Films
The Train Stop — directed by Sergei Loznitsa (2000)
Child breathes a mother moves symmetry of sleep old men snoring face in shadow eyes open as if in
death old woman thin gray hair hands move shoulder shrugs a smock worn over a dress
two men are sleeping legs spread newspaper distorted head back laboured breath
teeth and nostrils a face lined and scared from the wind head cradled in a hand
sound of rain the slow movement of breathing a creaking as if on a ship a
blur of hats and perspective moving in and out of focus with each
breath wind the sound of winter work boots and fur hats
a row of men asleep on hard seats a bald head and
glasses a train whistle roar of engine carriages
rushing past no one stirs an old woman
wakes rubs her face settles back into
sleep shoes on a patterned
floor exterior shot door
two lit windows
train whistle
a cry
Factory — directed by Sergei Loznitsa (2004)
walk past the honour board
heroes of a forgotten five year plan
climb
                              out of
                                             the furnace
were you cleaning it
or just looking for somewhere warm to rest
flames in the desolation
of the factory floor
piano music
while you smoke
& drink black tea with honey to
clear your throat of the after taste
of burning metal
the phone rings but isn’t answered
                              the furnace roars
metal flows
               like words
                              poured into
                                             molds
remade poems
glow and spark
I know what colour your fucking eyes are
red shoes clack on cobblestones. do you think
you are a fucking cardinal or something.
behind you there are overturned tramcars -
is this a vision of my future or am i seated
in a cinema? these days my dreams
seem like a montage of 1970's european movies
where the main character is subtitled
and is killed in a bomb blast in the final scene.
Mark Roberts lives and writes in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. He is the co-editor of Rochford Street Review (https://rochfordstreetreview.com/) and has been extensively published in literary magazines in Australia and overseas. His latest collection, Concrete Flamingos, was published by Island Press in 2016.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home