All Blog posts
Among the trees
May in the woods
FCIC10
PhaethonOfficial: We are here at the tenth Future of Computational Intelligence conference (#FCIC10). We sponsor a number of PhD students, excited to see their findings!
Some News
- I'm very grateful to have a poem up on Nine Muses Poetry called Imposter. It's a strange little piece and I'm glad it's found a good home. Check it out here
- One of my poems Hollow Passengers was also set to an awesome improvised soundtrack by Charlie and Jake as part of their Echoes and Edges live stream. It's such a cool collaborative project and one of the best uses of technology I've seen. Check it out below or click through for timings. I recommend watching it all as the whole project is very inventive
https://www.youtube.com/embed/vyHRtbjwlFY
Virtual workshop and a poem
I joined a virtual poetry workshop yesterday run by the wonderful Tonic and wrote this:
First crop of the year
Upheaval
Serenity Study zine
I turned my poem from NaPoWriMo Day 27 into a little zine.
Napowrimo 2020 Day 30- Burn
I expect these days to fade like
photographs left on a windowsill.
That's the hope. The numbers will
blur, the weeks will drain of detail
and colour and I will be left with
outlines and vague shapes, glimpses
of faces in the washed-out clouds,
voices speaking through the hiss.
Napwriomo 2020 Day 29- Fragment
Today my mind is like confetti thrown
to the wind, like a website with every
space filled with adverts, all flashing
for my attention, like a river delta
as hundreds of tributaries race towards
the ocean. Do you understand? It's like
I've drunk ten espressos and all I can hear
is the thumping house beat of my heart or
like I am dust in the depths of the galaxy
not yet ready to coalesce into planets.
You must know what I mean. It's like I'm
a beam of light shot through a prism,
or my thoughts are cryptic crossword clues
or I'm a CRT television stuck between
channels, half images looping back over
themselves. What I'm trying to say is
I'm like a lizard darting across hot
sands, it's like I'm caught in a washing
machine near the end of the cycle, like
I've become a comet entering the atmosphere
before inevitably burning, disintegrating,
becoming nothing more than fine ash rain.