POEM BY JIM WATSON GOVE

Duende: after Lorca


Who wears the lion's head tossed

from the Jucar to the Guadalete?

from the Sil to the Pisuerga?

Colored ribbons still fly from

silver pikes in Granada



Who wears the bull's head? Flags

wave toward the Andelusian shore

They exemplify the ancient blood

cult & death at 5 in the afternoon

is nothing to laugh about



Who wears Hemingway's head?

Barnaby Conrad's ghost wanders

Pamplona's streets waiting for the

bulls to run The roots run true

through dusty Andelusian streets



Who wears Lorca's duende like a

philosopher's mask speaking deep

in the throat? A construct? A concept?

A gob spat out onto the cobble stone

street



The blue guitar player knows about

duende He sits hunched over his

guitar his fingers slowly picking out

one more stale flamenco melody



It's mystery It's power It's Pamplona

all over again mastering frantically the

running of the bulls



Descartes is a rotten orange floating

in Venice's canals Lorca's angels

argue with Descartes' muse while

Saint Raphael fences with Saints

Michael and Gabriel



Lorca says Cervantes' mountebanks

palpitate in the shadows of Socrates'

stone statues He climbs the staircase

like the nude descending and finally

discovers who it is who wears the

bull's head who it is who wears the

lion's head He realizes that it is

Hemingway who wears Lorca's duende

like a spent cube


© Jim Watson Gove

POEM BY ANDREW NIGHTINGALE

Coming into Canary Wharf on the DLR

Rather than being formal to the point of violence:
fucked up by its mantic honeymoon with dead water,

the rectilinear slurry graves and their brightly coloured boats.
Something homely in the smeared dusk: the yellow lights,

the slackened compulsion after six that eases
the slant rhyme of smart casual, the violence of crowds

cleverly dissipated by clever architectural design.
The sense of companionship it leaves is wrong,

as if a body, disinterred, were found wearing a novelty tie.
Curving in, over cold grey panels of meniscus,

the cathedral's candlelight and murmur is nodal,
wedding the purity of financial violence to chic cellular

home lives, echoes of the yellow light, mortgaged
mash-ups in hinterlands of children and pets.

An empty barge, bloated like a corpse: a lost soul, laid up,
going nowhere, floating where the taped voices miss,

the daylight bulbs are blind and there's no screen, no login,
only the formalities that follow self-harm,
cubes of stopped river bedding the dead bride’s dream.

Andrew Nightingale nightand@yahoo.co.uk
317c Richmond Road, Twickenham, TW1 2PB

CASPER DAVID FREDERICH

Hi Paul, I first came acrosS him in Kenneth Clark and then in 1980 in Hamburg's museum. He really is breathtaking, especially the Wreck of the Hesperus and the mountain scenes. He seesm happiest in frozen wastes.

Wrote a poem on this experience, Frankfurt and Delingsdorf's lesbian commune where I was stayng wuth my sister, rather than CDF. Nor was he CDM... not chocolate box at all. I was suitably amazed by his work.
Just catching up with myself, glanced over your emails and read them them trying to eat. No good. christiane and heroin. I wrote of another Christiane.

I'll write when I've digested.

Cheers, Simon On 5 Jul 2006, at 17:59, Paul Murphy wrote: Hi Simon,
saw the CDF´s for the first time today live. Bigger than I expected and many are undoubted masterpieces of that period. They stand out above most of the rest. The German Turner, possibly better.

bfn,

Paul

Hi Paul,

I'm late for work as having written a letter to tacitus, brooding 9 days off and on, then a dream image and words were me and I start, so there it is.

one thing, it has amde me horribly alte for work and I've not read you very thoroughly, but love the anecdotes re body-building Murphy vs landlady's thugs, Holinghurst persona non granta, beckett in Berlin but pehaps Walter Bejamin could have cheered him? Adn this. I'm away till Friday when normal service will be resumed, unless a poem gets in the way of my opening my emails.

Cheers,

Simon

Hi, I couldnt believe that the drivers were just coming on straight at me. The cars seemed to fly at the speed of rockets. I was very shaken afterwards, just couldnt believe that it was worth almost killing someone in order to get to your destination a few seconds earlier. Of course, if she had actually run me over she would have
been held up there for hours, but the drivers here might think themselves to be rather streetwise and consider a hit and run too. Who´s going to care about a tourist run over at the Ku´Damm? Other people here have sustained injuries. I think its the WM, everything is a bit more manic than usual. Discovered that the Siegesäule was moved from Königsplatz nr the Reichstag by the Nazis to this area. There are 3 statues beside it, Bismarck, Roon and Moltke all sporting ridiculour Victorian beards, moustaches apart from Moltke, who looks very modern. The statue of
Bismarck is fantastic. I think the rationale for moving them is that they reminded the Nazi heirarchy of a too great connection with the golden era of Prussian militarism. (at that time, circa 1870, the Prussians had defeated the Southern Germans - who formed a confederation with the Austrians, the Danish and then the French. They really proved that they were the pre-eminent continental land army and Prussia became a bi-word for militarism, aggression and success. But the British still ruled the waves and the world.) But they didnt destroy the statues and monument either. That´s interesting and proves something. The Siegesäule is covered with gilded French cannon from the German victory over the French at
Sedan. (Have you read a history of the Paris Commune, by the way? Karl Marx agreed with the Communards but thought that a revolutionary movement wouldnt succeed at that time and felt that the Commune should wait and build itself up politically. In the end he was right and the Commune was defeated, the Communards massacred in their 1000s by the French military. A countries military defeat often means change in a leftwards direction, as with the Russian Revolution, which was also sponsored by the Germans, who put Lenin and other leading Bolsheviks on a sealed train in Zürich to the Finland Station in St Petersburg, as it was then known. So left can also mean German, a very subtle thing to understand, if you know what I mean?!?)
The area of Berlin I´m in is Alte Moabit. Its part of West Berlin, not one of the best areas, but not bad either. There are lots of cafes and restaurants, Arabic, Turkish, Vietnamese and Indian. best wishes, Paul