writer in residence, fal river festival 2012
While working as part of the Shop for Theatre strand of the Fal River Festival in 2012, at two hours notice I suddenly found myself functioning as Writer in Residence! Here are the results.
4th June King Harry Ferry
1.
queues of cars
cook in the sun
above the green river
passed by the disembarking
before they wind
onto king harry ferry
2.
at trelissick pier
enterprise 1 nods in
to unload a cargo of national trustees
clouds cool the sky
the whole pier moves
as the ferry begins its crossing
3.
the fal
is massed in oaks
sloping into opaque green
veed in waters
breasted by the square ferry
4.
two journeys left
on the electronic ticket
of a bmw
up from st mawes
heading for truro
to shop away
a bank holiday
5.
he stares
down river
his dead eyes
surrender
to the salt
of southerlies
he leans
resigned to
holiday hugs
each image away
to basingstoke
solihull surrey
while he
will remain
through winter
still in
dark nights
silent
his christmas
unringing
new year
another
new year
6.
endlessly processing
each with the illusion
they are unique
7. they don’t call it a slipway for nothing
it slopes in slime
at low water
this
despite appearances
is the sea
and the sea is not safe
8.
the commentary from the tripper boat
drifts treble across the water
echoes from the wooded banks
eerie bites of information
a few words about a king
mix with expertise on pilot gigs
learning that will leave no mark
abstract education
9.
yellow vw van
lichen roofed
organically blessed
you can tell there are beds in there
something blowsy in the driving style
something louche
roué
10.
silver honda crv
silver polo
silver seat
silver fiesta
white cornish van
silver renault
dark blue Vauxhall
dark blue zafira
royal pilot
dark grey kia
black v70
silver vw
silver bmw
4wd
black ford focus
silver renault scenic
silver suzuki
tint black audi
grey bmw
metallic blue galaxy
silver audi
grey blue ford
four wheel drive
queues of cars
cook in the sun
above the green river
passed by the disembarking
before they wind
onto king harry ferry
2.
at trelissick pier
enterprise 1 nods in
to unload a cargo of national trustees
clouds cool the sky
the whole pier moves
as the ferry begins its crossing
3.
the fal
is massed in oaks
sloping into opaque green
veed in waters
breasted by the square ferry
4.
two journeys left
on the electronic ticket
of a bmw
up from st mawes
heading for truro
to shop away
a bank holiday
5.
he stares
down river
his dead eyes
surrender
to the salt
of southerlies
he leans
resigned to
holiday hugs
each image away
to basingstoke
solihull surrey
while he
will remain
through winter
still in
dark nights
silent
his christmas
unringing
new year
another
new year
6.
endlessly processing
each with the illusion
they are unique
7. they don’t call it a slipway for nothing
it slopes in slime
at low water
this
despite appearances
is the sea
and the sea is not safe
8.
the commentary from the tripper boat
drifts treble across the water
echoes from the wooded banks
eerie bites of information
a few words about a king
mix with expertise on pilot gigs
learning that will leave no mark
abstract education
9.
yellow vw van
lichen roofed
organically blessed
you can tell there are beds in there
something blowsy in the driving style
something louche
roué
10.
silver honda crv
silver polo
silver seat
silver fiesta
white cornish van
silver renault
dark blue Vauxhall
dark blue zafira
royal pilot
dark grey kia
black v70
silver vw
silver bmw
4wd
black ford focus
silver renault scenic
silver suzuki
tint black audi
grey bmw
metallic blue galaxy
silver audi
grey blue ford
four wheel drive
4th june - tolverne
1.
offshore
its own ship
sullenly captive
moored by hawser
groaning
for release
to run down river
subtly sheering
between green banks
smelling its way
slowly
to the sea
2.
you see snatches of river
but not one whole
another pool
a mystery flow
here the fal is
a series of events
a series of scenes
backdrops for something
in a sense of waiting
the activities in its surface
trivial now
unnecessary
a series of sports
where things once were serious
offshore
its own ship
sullenly captive
moored by hawser
groaning
for release
to run down river
subtly sheering
between green banks
smelling its way
slowly
to the sea
2.
you see snatches of river
but not one whole
another pool
a mystery flow
here the fal is
a series of events
a series of scenes
backdrops for something
in a sense of waiting
the activities in its surface
trivial now
unnecessary
a series of sports
where things once were serious
4th june - st mawes
1.
uneasy
to the sound of a brass band
the street party-goers
self-conscious in their public repast
in neat squares
alongside the wall
tableclothed
dressed overall
they eat rare beef
wear union jack hats
they seem
dismayed by our passing
and our eyes turned their way
an intolerable intrusion
we have not been introduced
2.
on st mawes quay
redruth town band
a solo horn to the mountains of maugham
dark red blazers on the backs of chairs
a seated audience with ribboned hats
the village bustling a scene from times gone
collective life needs organising here
some event with sufficient notice
for people to find one purpose in their leisure
to gather in queues
and stand in dark times
there are problems finding ways to a sense of us
and the band completes the piece
and turns their music over
3.
there are weeks when we feel drenched in weather
the sun smelted
shades in cloud to give way to the wind
and extra clothes must cover
no uncomplicated summer now
everything an ending
each moment feeds a new nostalgia
nothing is carefree
the clouds foretold the next event
another group descends the hill
to stand in a moments indecision
then continue on its way
others await a ferry across the water
a passage to somewhere else
some other town some other person
some other series of untaken options
uneasy
to the sound of a brass band
the street party-goers
self-conscious in their public repast
in neat squares
alongside the wall
tableclothed
dressed overall
they eat rare beef
wear union jack hats
they seem
dismayed by our passing
and our eyes turned their way
an intolerable intrusion
we have not been introduced
2.
on st mawes quay
redruth town band
a solo horn to the mountains of maugham
dark red blazers on the backs of chairs
a seated audience with ribboned hats
the village bustling a scene from times gone
collective life needs organising here
some event with sufficient notice
for people to find one purpose in their leisure
to gather in queues
and stand in dark times
there are problems finding ways to a sense of us
and the band completes the piece
and turns their music over
3.
there are weeks when we feel drenched in weather
the sun smelted
shades in cloud to give way to the wind
and extra clothes must cover
no uncomplicated summer now
everything an ending
each moment feeds a new nostalgia
nothing is carefree
the clouds foretold the next event
another group descends the hill
to stand in a moments indecision
then continue on its way
others await a ferry across the water
a passage to somewhere else
some other town some other person
some other series of untaken options
5th june - princess pavilion falmouth
1.
it has become
somewhere to await plates
somewhere for a single drink
an interlude
in the fashion for food
once
here you queued for chips
in the intervals of pantomime
now
it is the show that feels
out of sight of eating eyes
something to investigate
some other time
another time
when we cease in our hungers
when we finish looking at watches
knowing somewhere else to be
someone else we are looking to become
2.
bandstands
are a symbol we inherit
the solution of another age
to a problem we dont share
the presentation
to all sides equally
unfavouring anyone
of music from a corps of players
so they can be seen
can be heard unamplified
by people more relaxed than we can manage
the uniforms a part of some lost language
carnival and marshall
gold braid formality
and someone rings a bell
behind an anxious hallway
and women paint faces
an endless appeal
to the owners of pale skin
inside a crowd crowds
the storyteller
animated by a feeling
that something is happening
it has become
somewhere to await plates
somewhere for a single drink
an interlude
in the fashion for food
once
here you queued for chips
in the intervals of pantomime
now
it is the show that feels
out of sight of eating eyes
something to investigate
some other time
another time
when we cease in our hungers
when we finish looking at watches
knowing somewhere else to be
someone else we are looking to become
2.
bandstands
are a symbol we inherit
the solution of another age
to a problem we dont share
the presentation
to all sides equally
unfavouring anyone
of music from a corps of players
so they can be seen
can be heard unamplified
by people more relaxed than we can manage
the uniforms a part of some lost language
carnival and marshall
gold braid formality
and someone rings a bell
behind an anxious hallway
and women paint faces
an endless appeal
to the owners of pale skin
inside a crowd crowds
the storyteller
animated by a feeling
that something is happening
8th june - king harry ferry
1.
wind
williwaws chase themselves at the river edges
heaving in a semblance of the sea
in its sheltered reaches
the promise of wide space to come
here
the drama of high slopes
the road twists immediately to cheat a passage
and the cars wind onto the roseland
2.
there is art on the ferry
displaced images of people and places
like adverts without words
puzzling us to interpret their potential urges
rocks
a woman half dressed in her bedroom
a young woman on a gravel drive
a dome
unknown buildings by some other sea
the break of a bay window
with geraniums
wind
williwaws chase themselves at the river edges
heaving in a semblance of the sea
in its sheltered reaches
the promise of wide space to come
here
the drama of high slopes
the road twists immediately to cheat a passage
and the cars wind onto the roseland
2.
there is art on the ferry
displaced images of people and places
like adverts without words
puzzling us to interpret their potential urges
rocks
a woman half dressed in her bedroom
a young woman on a gravel drive
a dome
unknown buildings by some other sea
the break of a bay window
with geraniums
9th june - st mawes
1.
racers arriving
theyve paddled run
cycled and run again
they sit outside the st mawes hotel
steaming with victory
soon theyll feel this chilled wind
2.
st mawes embraces
saturday
ignores the event
the bunting unseen
shops on the quayside
parks cars
hoists sails
drinks coffee
walks dogs
flecked with cloud shadows
beneath the continuing drama
of the sky
3.
there is a certain tone of face
that goes with four by fours
a neurotic blankness
protected by sunglasses
up high but
looking down
on roads and world
the vehicle insulates
from theoretical mud
and soft human flesh
affirming in quiet power
beneath a closed bonnet
4.
the state of mind of holiday
time divides in sections
of activity
of sight
to arrive amongst others
or time wasted
or time taken
time passing
countdown from the beginning
countdown to departure
the repacking
of life
racers arriving
theyve paddled run
cycled and run again
they sit outside the st mawes hotel
steaming with victory
soon theyll feel this chilled wind
2.
st mawes embraces
saturday
ignores the event
the bunting unseen
shops on the quayside
parks cars
hoists sails
drinks coffee
walks dogs
flecked with cloud shadows
beneath the continuing drama
of the sky
3.
there is a certain tone of face
that goes with four by fours
a neurotic blankness
protected by sunglasses
up high but
looking down
on roads and world
the vehicle insulates
from theoretical mud
and soft human flesh
affirming in quiet power
beneath a closed bonnet
4.
the state of mind of holiday
time divides in sections
of activity
of sight
to arrive amongst others
or time wasted
or time taken
time passing
countdown from the beginning
countdown to departure
the repacking
of life
9th june - falmouth
1. event square
dangerous
to play with events
the series of occurrences
that occupy time
beyond our control
inescapable
we are collections of phenomena
and it is pointless to try
to imprison them in a square
or any other geometrical shape
events cannot read
neither can they read maps
they cannot be reached in
any negotiative manner
so pointless to try to
charm them with a place name
you cannot shape events
through town planning
consider these events
of the past week alone
then push them all away
like chance
they do not affect
the cast that comes after
we are helpless in the face of
events
2. custom house quay
a young woman complains
that now shes turned twenty
the boys wont leave her alone
how can she communicate
like that shes not interested
well
you could announce it on the quay
too loud to your table of friends
and only fate
will be tempted
3.
boats tack towards the quay
racing into a westerly
that excites the sea off st mawes
but here has lost its sting
in the lee of a hillside of houses
busy with the lives of saturday
the skys cast of greys
at sea level mean a flat glare
that screws up eyes
invokes sunglasses
without one glint of sun
4.
people queue for the ferry
prepare to descend steps
carrying backpacks
babies and toddlers
carry themselves with considered deportment
over the deposits of seas
weed and creatures
each step examined forensically
for the scraping slip
that hollow emetic sound
of head hitting concrete
5.
the town is dressed for the festival
banners over high street
market street
church street
arwenack street
grove place
events square
this they say
is when you are
this is now
you haven’t missed it
be festive falmouth
tourist and inhabitant
we call on you
to fulfil your duty
for we have mounted banners
6. a metaphor of river and mind
fasten on one speck of river
as it flows amongst the festival
it is not something you can specify
as occupying one space
one time
like the minds of festival goers
it is a process and a flow
it is not one river
just as you are not one mind
a current of constant change
limpets onto other events
changes them and is changed by them
to celebrate a river
is to celebrate both life and death
each piece of river is the river
future now and passed
soon it will be gone
away to join the ocean
until reclaimed by air
to fall and to begin again
a new identity
a new mind
7.
I am tired
a hard week
things happen
you feel you have allowed
no
that is an illusion
all your power
is to abstain
but that is to withdraw from life
dangerous
to play with events
the series of occurrences
that occupy time
beyond our control
inescapable
we are collections of phenomena
and it is pointless to try
to imprison them in a square
or any other geometrical shape
events cannot read
neither can they read maps
they cannot be reached in
any negotiative manner
so pointless to try to
charm them with a place name
you cannot shape events
through town planning
consider these events
of the past week alone
then push them all away
like chance
they do not affect
the cast that comes after
we are helpless in the face of
events
2. custom house quay
a young woman complains
that now shes turned twenty
the boys wont leave her alone
how can she communicate
like that shes not interested
well
you could announce it on the quay
too loud to your table of friends
and only fate
will be tempted
3.
boats tack towards the quay
racing into a westerly
that excites the sea off st mawes
but here has lost its sting
in the lee of a hillside of houses
busy with the lives of saturday
the skys cast of greys
at sea level mean a flat glare
that screws up eyes
invokes sunglasses
without one glint of sun
4.
people queue for the ferry
prepare to descend steps
carrying backpacks
babies and toddlers
carry themselves with considered deportment
over the deposits of seas
weed and creatures
each step examined forensically
for the scraping slip
that hollow emetic sound
of head hitting concrete
5.
the town is dressed for the festival
banners over high street
market street
church street
arwenack street
grove place
events square
this they say
is when you are
this is now
you haven’t missed it
be festive falmouth
tourist and inhabitant
we call on you
to fulfil your duty
for we have mounted banners
6. a metaphor of river and mind
fasten on one speck of river
as it flows amongst the festival
it is not something you can specify
as occupying one space
one time
like the minds of festival goers
it is a process and a flow
it is not one river
just as you are not one mind
a current of constant change
limpets onto other events
changes them and is changed by them
to celebrate a river
is to celebrate both life and death
each piece of river is the river
future now and passed
soon it will be gone
away to join the ocean
until reclaimed by air
to fall and to begin again
a new identity
a new mind
7.
I am tired
a hard week
things happen
you feel you have allowed
no
that is an illusion
all your power
is to abstain
but that is to withdraw from life