Tag: poem
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Captain
Captain lending lines Weaker minds Prophetic patriarch Belly of the beast Followers like yeast Basbaball cap calamity Vitriol verbal depravity No nicotine yet orange fingers That rock suits you well Go on crawl under Come on you are unwell
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Artist In Residence, Metal, Southend
In December 2017 I took part in my first section of a Residency at Metal in Southend. I proposed the Idea of Pier to Pier. Coming from Llandudno were we have the longest Pier in Wales To Southend’s longest pier in Britain. This was set in stone but on arrival and trip through London, I…
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Wrecsam Art Vend & Onwards…
So its been a little while shall we say… Art vend I found out about the closure of Oriel Wrecsam (probably may favourite gallery) that i have such a connection with. It gave me my first chance to grab at the slippy old balloon of the art bubble dream back in 2008 on selection for…
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The Box or Road End
This is a poem about me. I went to my first Liverpool F.C game in 1987 and my first Widnes R.L.F.C game in 1983. So aged 3 and 7 them memories etch into your brain. A right of passage what ever you go onto. Know one can take your teams away from you. I was…
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A poem about leaving. Last Call For Whitfield
3 1/2 hours on train in 25 degrees builds a certain momentum to leave. Add this with the deadline of a departing flight to catch. In the time on the train from Milazzo to Palermo the only entertainment was a rather large bee that was flying up and down the carriage. If i could have…
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Bueno, Millazzo
I went out to Sicily to photograph. While i was there I soon realised that must start film and using time-lapse to further my experience. This video was shot free hand. The poem was written while I was there. The sounds in the background are the tuna steaks we bought cooking on the Barbecue The ambient sound is from the supermarket we went to…
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Alan Whitfield; A5, Conwy Castle, Projection
This is the video of me performing a visual projection on Conwy Castle in North Wales. It was part of the blinc digital arts festival 2012. I wrote it while traveling along the A5 between Capel Curig and Bethesda in the Snowdonia National park. It was written listening to the Beach boys on one of the only sunny days…
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Tides
TIDES Lorys Hughes, Dieppe littoral enclave, traffic choked in its walls, buckling under load Christian & Nielsen added transport to draw… As a Jacdaw flies onwards over the wall where inner battles once raged, to a far corner of a sanded shore springs a millionaires playground, we await The Mulberry Harbor secret to be told.…
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Directed
DIRECTED Press print and ink make our minds sync On the outside the eyes, gaze just an other face bars hold us apart do we know, marginalized cut out distance equal, freedom unsubstantial framed
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Inner
INNER The mothers clasp, in safety to hold, enclose. Inner winter warm repels the cold. Warms the soul controlled, relax, breath out, childhood stories told turning, caring, comfort it never grows old.
ALAN WHITFIELD 