witches – TOpoet

Recap March 2021

April 1, 2021 topoetLeave a comment

Over the past year by TOpoet.ca following blog grew to 487! The only stat WP doesn’t give is where the followers are located but WP map does show my hits have come from 30 countries around the world. That USA tops the list is no surprise but that India & Bangladesh are in the top 4 is interesting. Ireland, Japan in the top 10! Most popular post for March was Attention Span (https://topoet.ca/2021/03/28/attention-span/). My Tumblr is at 311. It would be higher but this past month I‘ve blocking a flood of banal anime sex sites. Twitter 231 followers.

Picture Perfect is moving along with 61 sections, nearly 90,000 words, posted so far, with 95,000 words approx to be edited, then posted. Yes finally at the half-way point & know there are major cuts yet to be made. That the joy of writing without worry I know I can chase a subplot knowing if it doesn’t pan out it can be chopped.

I continued working through the archived files of short-stories, poetry, even plays. Some date back to the mid-seventies. My typing & handwriting haven’t improved much over the decades. I’m enjoying the array of paper, scrap paper, that I used. It helps to date some of the work, as does the typewriter used, the colour of ink, & of course dot-matrix printouts – some of which hadn’t been separated.

I watched lots of great movies this past month including two wildly different movies about witches. The first is a version of Susperia – based on the original Dario Argenta movie but not a remake. I love the original despite the distracting loud soundtrack. Both are set in a dance school. I enjoyed this fresh take in which dance took a major role. The music & choreography & even the theory of dance were spot on. The music was moody, never intrusive. Performances were great – Tilda Swinton was fine. The bloodbath scene was gory but then …. sadly they added an endless, pointless coda that turned an A movie into a C.

The other witch move was ‘The Juniper Tree’ from 1990. It could have been a lost Bergman film with its stark Iceland setting, shot in stunning black & white. Mystical, poetic & magical without any special effects & solid compelling performances. Ethereal music & a realistic ending. Well worth searching out.

As break from the macabre I watched, for at least the 3rd time, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. This was the fully restored print with stunning colour & a pristine soundtrack. This is a masterpiece of film making. The set decor is breathtaking, stunning & a feast for the eyes. The cast is good, Deneuve is stunning too. The men are tasty Gallic eye candy. The music is lush & the singing is perfect. All the voices are dubbed – so this is a live-action animated feature 🙂 They sing like ordinary people – I’m so used to the over-singing of songs in which every one has to have a heart-rending emotional climax.

Another truly amazing film was Diamonds In The Night – Czech black & white – follows two young men, escapees from transport to concentration camp during WWII. A touch surreal, intense, compelling & rewarding.

We’re finally watching The Crown, season 2. The Aberfan episode is one of the most amazing chapters of a serial I’ve ever seen, right up there with The Queen episode of Castle Rock. An emotional tour de force that left me tearful. Heart-rending without being cloying or over-the-top.

from the archives – sometime 1985

‘let’s swim to the moon’

Jim Morrison

last night I dreamed of the dead

they weren’t looking very well

the endlessness of the past

was worrying them

as there was more past every day

their worries were constantly growing

at this point as expected

things got a little confusing

the cafe of experience

was flooded by Symbolists

our meals became metaphors

which left us hungering for reality

an allusion of symbiotics

were looking for a new quantifier

they wanted pride

by lions had already cornered that one

they asked to join us for coffee

but no one had a measuring spoon

mystic sixties retro music on the juke box

left us even more unsatisfied

reminding us of old frustrations

we had matured out of long long ago

we were speechless with despair

none willing to swim anymore

there was no room for miles

the stars repeated their menu

soup song of sorrows in the heartbreak hotel

pulling up to the gas pump

in an early model Chevrolet

revved up the effortless drive of love

to fuel the furnace of art

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Hell House

October 30, 2020 topoetLeave a comment

Walked past this house recently. North of Gerrard E, top of Leslie. I particularly like the astronaut – lighting wasn’t right for a decent pic & flash washed everything out.

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The Love Spell

July 13, 2016July 13, 2016 topoetLeave a comment

For the summer I’m going back to the series of pieces mythologizing my growing up in Cape Breton. Check the Village Stories page http://wp.me/P1RtxU-1fT for links previous pieces in this series posted in July/August 2014, July/August 2015

The Love Spell

near the edge of the Whistling Woods

lived an ugly old woman

she had two daughters

Cashmere and Coral

the prettiest girls in our school

it was fun for the choir boys to maltreat them

following them home humming loudly

or whispering the words

to whatever song

we were learning in choir practice

their mother was very old

too old for fish scales one of the boys said

we thought she was some sort of witch

and would would rush off

before she could enchant us

into falling in love with her daughters

one summer a package

came to our house by mistake

it was meant for the witch

our street names were very similar

we lived on Maple Lane

she lived on Willow Laneway

I was given the task of taking

the package to her house

with it in the particle carrier

of my fire engine red CCM flyer

rode there as slow as I could

humming and whispering

to keep up my courage

a thunder storm began as I got there

she bade me come inside

the house was neat as pin

up close she wasn’t as old as I had thought

I told her we all thought

she was a witch and she laughed

‘you can’t hide the truth – right my boy’

I gave her the package

she tried to give me money

which I refused

cookies – which I refused

finally she offered me a love spell

guaranteed to bind the love

of whomever I wanted to me

all I had to do

was steal butter from my mother

then get the object of my affection

to steal some butter from their mother

then spread the butter

on the backs of one another knees

before making love

I was to tell no one about this spell

not even the one I wanted to love me

they had to do it willingly

without question

I have never used this spell

the last man who let me undress him

whom I wanted to bind to me forever

had no mother

she had died years ago

I did steal some butter from my mother

while she wasted away with consumption

I keep it safe in my freezer

for the time

when I doubt what my heart can do

The Love Spell is one of the more ‘traditional’ mythologic pieces in this series. I play on fairy tale witch myth heavily. The tormenting girls was something done innocently enough when I was a boy – singing & joking to get their attention was considered playful fun – today, of course, children who engage in such play are labeled & criminalized.The rumour that some old lady was a witch runs through so many childhood recollections & facing her for some reason – broken window – is nearly a cliche. The ‘old’ lady often proved be in her early 40’s as well, so agism starts young.

What was in the package? A plot ploy 🙂 If I do a major rewrite of this piece I’d mention the contents as well give some of the hymn lyrics those mean boys whispered to the sisters. I always wanted a fire engine red bike – the one I had was more burgundy than red.Was she really a witch? Even her confession is suspect. The refusals of first offered rewards are also a fairly tale trope as our hero forces the witch to give him what he really wants – power – the love spell. I had lots of fun creating this absurd spell. In myth the stealing of something as part of the spell is standard – a lock of hair usually – then it gets even crazier as I give it my own spin. I picked butter because it was so mundane.

The piece becomes one of longing – the need for a love spell is a kind of longing itself. My hero clearly believes in the power of that spell – in the way we all fear that our ability to love may not prove to be enough power to bring us the love we want.