April 6, 2023
A new book spine poem (aka bookmash).
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Memory
So I am glad our story begins:
Speak, memory, the forgotten language,
Clear the mist in the mirror,
The unreality of memory going dark,
The shadow of the sun across a
Billion years, far from the light
Of heaven.
*

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books, literature, poetry, wordplay | Tagged: A L Kennedy, book spine poem, bookmash, books, Elisa Gabbert, Erich Fromm, found poetry, Julia Ebner, literature, Nicola Barker, poetry, Robert Silverberg, Ryszard Kapuściński, Susan Hill, Tade Thompson, Tobias Wolff, visual poetry, Vladimir Nabokov, wordplay |
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Posted by Stan Carey
November 21, 2022
It’s almost a year since my last book spine poem. Here’s a new one.
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Return from the Stars
Return from the Stars,
A portable cosmos –
Island home buried in
The sky, the island of ghosts,
The uninhabitable Earth,
Kindred love, again,
Touching from a distance
Homesick,
The stars my destination.

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books, poetry, wordplay | Tagged: Alexander Jones, Alfred Bester, Amanda Padoan, book spine poem, bookmash, books, Catrina Davies, David Wallace-Wells, Deborah Curtis, Doris Lessing, Eilís Dillon, found poetry, literature, Peter Zuckerman, poetry, Rebecca Wragg Sykes, Stanislaw Lem, visual poetry, wordplay |
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Posted by Stan Carey
December 19, 2021
A new book spine poem with a medical theme, to see the year out:
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Hidden Symptoms
Hidden symptoms
Under the skin:
A disaffection,
A ghost in the throat –
Patient or pretender
Waiting for the healer.
Can you tolerate
This parasite?
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books, poetry, wordplay | Tagged: Ashleigh Young, Bong Joon Ho, book spine poem, bookmash, books, Charles V. Ford, Deirdre Madden, Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Eamonn Sweeney, found poetry, James Kelman, Marc D. Feldman, Michel Faber, photography, poetry, Toni Reinhold, visual poetry, wordplay |
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Posted by Stan Carey
August 9, 2021
For the day that’s in it, a new book spine poem. Bit gloomy, this one.
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Touching the Precipice
Zero, zero, zero wild flowers,
The insect societies
Collapse on your doorstep –
Mind and nature
Touching the precipice.
*

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books, poetry, wordplay | Tagged: Ashley Montagu, book spine poem, bookmash, books, Edward O. Wilson, found poetry, Gregory Bateson, Heather Greer, Jared Diamond, literature, Marjorie Blamey, photography, poetry, Richard Fitter, Roberto Saviano, Toby Ord, visual poetry, wordplay |
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Posted by Stan Carey
January 28, 2021
In a recent conversation, I heard the word awkness in reference to a socially awkward situation. I hadn’t heard it before, but its meaning was obvious in context. After all, its cousin awks ‘awkward’ has been around a while; I’ve even used it myself.
When I looked into awkness, I had a surprise. It sounds, as I said on Twitter, like a millennial coinage – and it is, more or less. But not originally: the OED dates awkness to the late 16th century, defining it thesaurusily as ‘wrongness, irrationality, perversity, untowardness, awkwardness, ineptitude’.
The first citation is from a 1587 religious book by Philippe de Mornay (tr. Philip Sidney & Arthur Golding): ‘The skilfull can work much upon little, and by his cunning ouercome the awknesse of his stuffe.’ The citations continue till 1674, with the word also spelled awknesse, awknes, and aukness.
And then: obsolescence.
Well, not exactly.
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etymology, language, language history, lexicography, linguistics, morphology, slang, wordplay, words | Tagged: awk, awkness, awks, clippings, dictionaries, etymology, inkhorn terms, language, language history, lexicography, linguistics, morphology, neologisms, OED, slang, wordplay, words |
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Posted by Stan Carey
November 17, 2020
It’s been a while since I made a book spine poem (aka bookmash). This one is overdue, but thanks to Edna O’Brien it’s also a month early:
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Listening to the Wind
Connemara –
listening to the wind,
the songs of trees, wild
December’s nocturnes
on your doorstep,
Going home one by one
in the darkness.
*

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books, poetry, wordplay | Tagged: book spine poem, bookmash, books, David George Haskell, Deirdre Madden, Edna O'Brien, found poetry, Heather Greer, Kazuo Ishiguro, literature, photography, poetry, Thich Nhat Hanh, Tim Robinson, visual poetry |
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Posted by Stan Carey
May 11, 2020
An early highlight of my reading year has been Lydia Davis’s Collected Stories. Many of her stories put a slight and strange and startling twist on consensus reality (or a fresh insight that amounts to the same), sometimes combined with a self-conscious linguistic flourish:
I am reading a sentence by a certain poet as I eat my carrot. Then, although I know I have read it, although I know my eyes have passed along it and I have heard the words in my ears, I am sure I haven’t really read it. I may mean understood it. But I may mean consumed it: I haven’t consumed it because I was already eating the carrot. The carrot was a line, too.
This synaesthesia-adjacent report is one of fifteen self-contained entries in a story titled ‘Examples of Confusion’.
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books, literature, wordplay, writers, writing | Tagged: American literature, books, language, linguistics humour, literature, Lydia Davis, reading, short stories, stories, wordplay, writers, writing, writing tips |
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Posted by Stan Carey