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The Rapture

By: Material type: TextTextPublication details: UK Salt Publishing 2011Description: 96pISBN:
  • 9781844717385
DDC classification:
  • 821.92/CUM
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General Books General Books Colombo 821.92/CUM Available

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General Books General Books Colombo 821.92/CUM Available

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Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

We live in an age of terror, literally and metaphorically. Old dependables have been shaken loose and to free us from the terror comes the poetry of The Rapture -- poetry with a tangible exultance and joy tinged with the dark matter of End Times and the pinching fear of what's up ahead wrestling with the pleasures and shelter of the moment -- our internal clocks striking the hours of the age of anxiety in us all.The Rapture is divided into three parts, each exploring sensation, identity, immersion and memory in its own way. Chapel of Carbon includes love poems, lyrics, outrageous metaphors and narratives alongside wide-screen, more open-field works that probe at our very sense of self and perception.The central Improvisations section tests language and meaning's outer reaches and its most intimate fumblings. These are poems that tear down the fences and break open the windows and doors. This is not the hand-me-down formalism of the writing workshop, but in the power and sudden impact in the work's vivid mosaic of image, character, narrative and metaphor conspiring together to make you seriously question assumptions of what form and meaning actually are.The final First Music is the most autobiographical of Cumming's published work, an exploration of the matter of memory, and the act of remembering as well as the experience of returning to the landscape of one's past. It evokes the way of life and of imagination on a remote Dartmoor farm in the 60s and 70s, a study of memory and the process of remembering and perception as well as of capturing the landscape and aura of England's wildest landscape, littered with ghosts and strange tokens, stranger tales and prehistoric artefacts.

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Surveillance ImprovisationThe cops and their familiarsin the two way mirroron the down escalatorears pressed to the hard drivethe party line, voice signalshissing like gas from powercells in the undergroundnetwork, men of good faith,the prophets of the tourniquet,boiled mouths of bomberspushing through the letter boxand shouting the namesof hairy gods. Holy Moses,we're too far from the future tocarry the weight of these old prophets.The clock's running on empty,you're looking for a pattern,the sky folded with nebulaehidden from the naked eyelike plotters met in crowdedplaces, lemon starlight, seedsin his hair, end-timers gatheringlike a sudden flurry of tonguesat the mouths of great rivers,hidden corners floodlit bythe biometric eye, cross hairsin the holy books, music fromthe accessible coast, firesin the dunes, boats in the swell.In your dreams you see a facebigger than any other facepulling itself apart, the wateryfirmament of the faithful eyefixed on the figure behind the curtain,the world out there, hand on itshaunches, taking its measure.Not the heart but the beat,not the beat but the speedof the drummer's hands, not thespeed so much as the distancesthe incredible distances. Excerpted from The Rapture by Tim Cumming All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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