Saturday, May 31, 2014

CHAPBOOK #84: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Collection



Chapbook #84

Four Poems from 2011

Red Shuttleworth


Red Shuttleworth's limited edition (22 signed copies on archive-
quality paper) Chapbook #84 carries four poems from the summer of 2011:

Butterflies and Blood
Will Rope for Food
A Toast to Raggedy-Ass Eternity
and
Crumble-Down Places of the Heart


Wolfie Shuttleworth and Red Shuttleworth

Good poets are like prizefighters...
they do roadwork.
~Wolfie Shuttleworth

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Suisun Valley Review (2014 issue) Presents a Ciara Shuttleworth Poem


Suisun Valley Review
Issue #31  / Spring 2014


The 2014 edition of Suisun Valley Review, published by the English Department at Solano Community College in Fairfield, California, features a large section on poet Gary Thompson, a number of excellent poems and stories, and a new poem from Ciara Shuttleworth.

Suisun Valley Review was founded in 1981 by the distinguished poet Quinton Duval.

Ciara Shuttleworth's poems have appeared in Alaska Quarterly Review, Los Angeles Review, The New Yorker, Southern Review, and other journals, and in several anthologies.  She lives in New York City.

   Quinton Duval and Ciara Shuttleworth
(May 2008)



Tuesday, May 27, 2014

DECADES LATER: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook



Decades Later

Poems

Red Shuttleworth



Decades Later, a limited (two-dozen signed copies) edition Red Shuttleworth chapbook from Bunchgrass Press, includes the following poems:
Stunt Water
Decades Later
Gibe
Parked Invisible
Wavelength
Moonrise
Solaria
and
Comet Shower


Red Shuttleworth, 1976

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Comet Shower



Comet Shower

     ...the hundreds of headstones sighing and gleaming like bones...

      Samuel Beckett
      Echo's Bones

Oil-black night, inner ear of a week-dead deer carcass...
and everyone wants their work on display.

Neanderthal-dumb, you stare up and up-further
into something like distant black construction paper.

Flesh-rot and flesh-melt...
no matter how many escalators are invented.

If not for the young Wolfhound, you would feel alone,
no more than a scrap of wig on a bald rock.

No media-predicted flash... no pin of light
rushing godward with cosmic wind-clatter-'n-scream.


Peaches Shuttleworth
Irish Wolfhound (at 10-months-old) and Young Poet


Saturday, May 17, 2014

SUMMER CHRONOGRAPH: A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook



Summer Chronograph

poems

Red Shuttleworth


Over ninety chronograph poems were written by Red Shuttleworth during the summer of 2013.  This chapbook contains twenty-five of those poems (selected by Portuguese man-of-letters Nuno Santos and Red's daughter, Ciara Shuttleworth).


Red Shuttleworth in his studio (May 2014).

Red Shuttleworth's Summer Chronograph was published in a limited edition by Bunchgrass Press in late May, 2014.


Strangle-poor in 1925 with a hopeless copper mine near Vidal, California, Wyatt Earp stared off into the Mojave Desert one late summer evening, and growl-groaned, Fiasco dream....

Wyatt Earp at the Colorado River, 1925.
(Arizona State Historical Society, Tucson)

  

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Moonrise



Moonrise

Cast-off stone...
transformational light:
teal-'n-blood sage.

Pottery stone.
Small god-fragment.
Oddball of heaven.

Cratered nostalgia-mood.

Naive
chickenwire-wrapped
quarter-hour
of coyote-land!

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Spring Chronograph: 39



Spring Chronograph: 39

Not one May angel, rebuked or beloved,
dangles from your sagebrush desert sky.
No jet plane: a delphinium-azure silence.
A thousand rocky feet above sea level,
The Old West is murdered-out in blue.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Wavelength



Wavelength

Summer-island town:
silky sunburns, white-is-black
ensembles, sidewalks cracked
by weight-gain movie extras.

Wavelength, world tour,
post-apocalyptic:
punky-Elvis
dummies in Warhol-pastels...

for the last available
foiled Polaroid film.

Commissioned and departed...
goddamn well cookie-crumbled....

     - To the Memory
       of Anna Napoli's friend,
       David Bourdon

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Parked Invisible



Parked Invisible

The passing of time as muscle:
one bullet or two....

Dreams:
as far
as you get?

An actual (empty) challenge:
bunch grass vs. push mower.

Or at-hazard walkways
in Ukraine...

repetitive
nightmare:
tulip beds...
arterial blood.


Saturday, May 10, 2014

Gibe



Gibe

Today's perfection: a slash of magenta sunset-sky.
Casual conclusions even in blue-chip medicine...
Lodine to mask symptoms... and the moon,
milky eyeball of an old rot-tout museum docent,
watches you flesh-out beginning days of old age.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Spring Chronograph: 36



Spring Chronograph: 36

Absence of trauma, stolen days in May...
a flash-white iris, ghosts out of eye-shot,
green-with-hope wide-stem bunch grass.
Unshaven, raggedy as a stained-glass saint,
you stub-toe, curse behind a laughing hound.


Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Decades Later



Decades Later

Fragile-as-wax... purple mountains.
We stood on grassy foreground,
April-drizzled, wet as Ballybeg sheep.
The real change, she said, is when
we learn to toy with each other.
For years I thought Dylan sang that.

Leading authorities on landscape
offer x-rays of decalcified bone:
black and white runs contrary
to children playing with clay.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Spring Chronograph: 33



Spring Chronograph: 33

Early May... the temp sudden-shoots
into upper eighties.  Your bone marrow
broils.  The sun lectures: barb wire history...
right up to high-tensile, slow-to-rust Gaucho,
Blood-rips if you catch, sure, but less infection.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Infinity Confrontation



Infinity Confrontation

Average uncertainties, time of sunrise,
time of fizzy or fuzzy piss for some doctor....

You were led to expect a meteor shower.
You were led to poles of outright fabrications,
God orphed all bible-week: crust-speckled puke on His storyboard.

The cinematic (bold background in Monument Valley)
came upon you like dental anesthetic hits the nose.
Mostly in worthless, printer-trimmed check paper.

Many hangings that year featured decaps.
You and the executioner's daughter!  Not really.




Spring Chronograph: 32



Spring Chronograph: 32

The narrow ledge of mid-spring: May Day...
and you favor a strained neck, shuffle a gravel
road to an imagined basalt cave: no risen ghosts!
White, pewter-accent clouds at the northwest:
unruly, louse-infested beard of a god of birds.