poem

Viewfinder

Artwork © Rupert Loydell, 2023
At moments of high peak
dreams show errors 
in our genetic code:
arrows on the skin’s map
erasures concealed by grammar.
We practise the waltz steps
between dots strewn on marble.

In our lives’ antechambers
the cameras record us blushing,
holding hands, sharpening knives.
Like in any rehearsal, the blades fall
on past things, on future plans.
Time decides for itself how long
the echo, how short the call.

There are no corrections. 


© Maria Stadnicka and Andrew Morrison, 2023.
Poem published in International Times on 30/09/2023.

Sine Loco

Abstract things. Summer Week.

Photography: © Maria Stadnicka, 2023

Pathology

Photograph © Maria Stadnicka August 2023. River. Traces of Life.

Pathology

In early autumn, mornings begin

with the same letter and most things

go on so suddenly, they strike you

as brutal. You forget names and

places where both,

the self and the other, stood

counting insect bites. The ashes of

summer wakefulness, squeezed between

palms pushing against low skies.   

One is taller, one is happier.

The picture resembles

a clearing dome under which you repeat

daily dressing-undressing then

sort items according to necessities:

to set aside,

to bring together, or

in readiness for the big hibernation.

© Maria Stadnicka, 2023.

Where 

....    I tell the distance that
people’s names are 
shorter than rivers… 
threads 
on the world’s spine 
gliding
to the edge of an abyss 
where all their deeds fall
glass-clear
to no ending
except themselves.


© Maria Stadnicka MMXXIII

TU:PLEI, 20-25 July

  • Maria Stadnicka Buried Gods Metal Prophets (Guillemot Press, 2021)
  • © Antonia Glücksman As you Like It, wooden art game
  • © Hannah Mathison, 2021
  • © Andrew Morrison, 2021
  • © Zoé Heath, 2021
  • © John Stadnicki, 2021
  • © Antonia Glücksman, 2021
  • © Andrew Morrison, 2021
  • © Antonia Glücksman, 2021

The exhibition TU : PLEI will be open 20-25 July 2021 at Stroud Brewery, 9am-5pm.

© Maria Stadnicka, 22nd July 2021

Water Sequence

‘Water Sequence’ poem © Maria Stadnicka, 2020

The poem ‘Water Sequence’ features in the latest collection ‘Somnia’ published by the Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, United Kingdom and it is officially released today.

‘Somnia’ is now available here and here.

Cover art work © Mark Mawer, 2019

Photography: © John Stadnicki, 2020

Original music ‘Vide Cor Meum’ © Patrick Cassidy and Hans Zimmer for ‘Hannibal’ (2001).

SOMNIA Knives, Forks, Spoons Press / Sep. 2019

 

Geometry

 

 

Nietzsche insists that a person must
find at least one truth before a good
night sleep. A terrible prospect
considering how facts come about,
with their own sets of variables.

wind force,
speed in metres per second,
momentum at impact with a surface,
temperature
and friction between molecules

Ninety-degree angles do not exist
in real life. Until now we have been tricked
by scientists into believing in verticality.
Meanwhile they build a simplified version
of the world, a dummy manual, if you like,
for funding purposes.

 

© Maria Stadnicka 2020

Published in ‘International Times’ on 29 Feb 2020.

Rite

Sunday lingers on scent of paint,
tobacco and spring. Our kitchen-war
sprouts from a conversation on books
about people we both know. I say

I’d met doctor Zhivago queuing
at Nero’s, heard him asking a barista
about the fate of taiga-trees
at the height of a mining season.

You think they are cut short then stop
growing. I lock my paperbacks
in a cupboard; they remind us
of all the ink twisted in verse, seeded

in layers of gravel. Our verbs reach
the pit of a quarry and seal over.
Snow forests shoot up in tears,
we trip over cables in our flat.

 

© Maria Stadnicka 2020

Published in ‘Stride Magazine’on 26 Feb 2020.

 

Short Summary of Strategic Combat

Illustration © Claire Palmer 2020

after Kasparov vs Karpov, 1986

 

The playground is open, with white to move.

D4 F6. A few pawn boys make a safety zone

out by the swings, waiting for Father to fall for the ruse.

 

C4 G6. Everyone calls the queen Sis’ Loretta

when she jumps over the Treatment Room’s steps

to the battlefield. The fifth move: Q to B3.

 

By the eleventh round, the game enters

a phase of hand-to-hand combat. Father attacks,

we defend on each side. Sister gets hurt,

 

two pawn boys, sacrificed, but nobody castles.

Our fight, bishop to rook. Checked on the playground

as the last knight falls at the match point.

 

Most pieces are gone on both front lines. Thirty-one

moves. Checkmate. From the opposing team,

Father says we are playing a game bigger than us.

 

© Maria Stadnicka 2020

Published in ‘International Times’ on 8th February 2020.

Video

A City Preview – London on Thursdays

Poetry reading: Maria Stadnicka reading the poem City from the collection Imperfect published by Yew Tree Press, 2017. Poem published in International Times, January 2017.

Music: Katie McCue

Video footage: World War One Archive