Poetry in Motion
NHS fundraiser poster series
A motion poster series exploring the relationship between poetry and design.
A3 prints available for purchase with a percentage of each order being donated to NHS related charities.
£25 for 1
£40 for 2
£75 for full set
Free P&P
Printed on 190gsm paper
Posters will be sent unframed
Email me here to place an order, please reference poster(s) and quantity.
Poems used →
Still Life - Roberto Tejada
We’d often
been included in
the weather, whose
changes (as in the
still, portending
darknesses of after
noon) were hardly
evident, if even
manifest at all.
The August rain
over Mixcoac
& the deadening
of all aspect
at a distance:
yet our sudden
wet bodies, firm
swelling divested
finally of shirts
& trousers, left
beside turbid
footprints on
the tiled floor;
this tongue, these
lips the lightning
over the unchartered
landscape of your
thigh: successive
terra nova to
resist the still
life of the body
Verschwunden - Richard Anders
(German original and English translation)
Now you’re ahead of, now you run after yourself and watch your back get smaller second by second. The street leads straight to the horizon where houses are just dots. Suddenly you’ve disappeared, clean out of sight. You turn: somebody is running after you. It’s you! You take to your heels. Only now you work up to the speed which, while you were after yourself, would have let you catch up. But this time it is neither fun nor in earnest. Escaped from the eyes of your pursuer you are also — except for this hot legible trace — lost to yourself.
Figures in a windswept language - Snehal Vadher
As if what I wanted to say most
would be lost in the saying
all the lines running slightly aslant
clouds and white horses grazing
wherever you look the gaze lifted
by the wind a rippling in the barley
and in the hot curtain of the atmosphere
the last hunger before it settles
on two sparrows on an earthen pot
or pine cones on a bed of pine needles
fallen as if someone had put them there
for your viewing but that is just how
pine cones fall I want to write but
the school is inside a thick fog
and the children must shout across the valley
that may have grown between them
and it is hard to read because already
the title of the grade 5 English textbook
is burning in a sooty fire lit
in the offset printing and I don’t
have a pencil and I don’t know
the spelling so I go on erasing until
the page begins to tear like a cloud
through pale pastel blue sky and the fog
inside the classroom keeps growing
and a child speaks the alphabet through tears
Superfluities - Major Jackson
This downpour of bad reasoning, this age-old swarm,
this buzzing about town, this kick and stomp
through gardens, this snag on the way to the mall,
this heap and toss of fabric and strewn shoes, this tangled
beauty, this I came here not knowing, here
to be torched, this fumbling ecstasy, this ecstasy of fumbling,
this spray of lips and fingers, this scrape of bone, this raid
of private grounds, this heaving and rocking, this scream
and push, this sightless hunger, this tattered perishing,
this rhythmic teeth knocking, this unbearable
music, this motionless grip, grimace, and groan.
