[*This post contains explicit language and references to sexual violence*]
This week in our Experimental Writing class, we’ve been working with some (Soma)tic Poetry ideas by CA Conrad from the book A Beautiful Marsupial Afternoon (Wave Books, 2012).
(Soma)tic Poetry is designed to open up our creativity by stepping outside the realms of ‘normal’ writing practice, and establishing a deeper connection with the Divine (Soma) through the body tissues (somatic).
I found it wildly liberating and empowering in so many ways! My writing took on shapes, sounds, vocabularies and directions that felt so new and raw and real: physically embodied, Divinely inspired, sometimes shocking and explosive.
Reading Conrad’s own examples from his book, I began to feel that there was a difference between making sense and having sense. The latter being imbued with a rich sense of feeling, a depth that grows with time and multiple readings, rather than a necessarily linear narrative structure.
As I began experimenting with my own experiences, I found that there was a sense of connection that could be made between seemingly unrelated lines of poetry, and that it was stepping outside of my ‘normal’ ideas about writing that gave these gems the freedom to shine. I discovered a connection to voices that are not my own, enabling me to step aside from my writing and view it objectively – suddenly realising the power of creating characters who truly speak for themselves, independently of my usual ideas and vocabulary.
So here are some of the results, and I’m proud to say they’re mine!
You In Your Soup:
Watch this poem being created by clicking here.
This next poem explores the relationship between poverty and capitalism:
or you just don’t see me
through the loopholes of your world
inseparable from systems designed to hide me
you look away
bare ribbed bare
for fucking but you don’t see
my face your eyes
closed as you slide inside
my hole of
now it’s my turn
to fuck you and
I ram myself in hard
in your face
but you don’t see me
eclipsed by shining shoes hot coffee empty jokes
the face of your new lover and the holiday
you didn’t see me there
but i was
‘til the spike was
and i entered in
you could wake up
get out the
if you wanted