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The Brightest Jewel
The Brightest Jewel . |
Tag: Aad de Gids
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L’Heure Bleu
a dwell in the night a, sigh. a dervish dislodged a textile, sigh
it is the night it is a night on earth the hedges prematurely in
bloom with almost lightning, flowers so, white and optic so,opioid
a scent as some people sit on a bench and conspicuous leaves on
the forestrial floor. oak moss and waterlily release pungent smells
as pungent as sexual. it is the blue hour between love and war,
dark mosses vessels almost for some astral war, the trail of laurel
and pittosporum the navigational mappology by which we float as in,
an unseen jar a headspace placed on the venezolan roraima to catch
this petite star orchids’ unbelievable strong pineapplescent. as
the classic perfumes however stay true to a private royaume along
forgotten paths in venezuela, brazil, malaysia and italy, guerlain’s
famous perfume l’heure bleue stays true to its 1912 formula…..L’Heure Bleue is © Aad de Gids
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*L’Heure Bleue or ‘the bluish hour’ was created by Jacques Guerlain in 1912. The fragrance is velvety soft and romantic, it is a fragrance of bluish dusk and anticipation of night, before the first stars appear in the sky. The top notes are opening with spicy-sweet aniseed and fresh bergamot that gently lead to the heart of rose, carnation, tuberose, violet, and neroli. The soft and powdery floral notes are resting on a base of vanilla, Tonka bean, iris and benzoin. The perfume is mysterious, elegant and timeless. It was created by Raymond Guerlain. The bottle is shaped like the one of Mitsouko and the stopper is shaped like a hollow heart that alludes to romantic pre-war years. [fragrantica]Famine Ship at Murrisk Abbey *
‘L’heure bleue’ for Aad de Gids
That almost night
at Murrisk Abbey.
Darkness begins to drop
its black capillaries, its ink blots.
Rorschach animals ink sky’s ultramarine
seeping their blue tones into the sea.
The reek looms above Murrisk Abbey.
Altared, a blown bouquet
tissues its stem toward
the famine ship,
bone-souldered
its graven skeletons
knit ‘ship’
it baulks the dark,
blacker than the fallen sky,
the fairylight houses.
Blacker still than stone.
by C. Murray
* The National Famine Memorial by John Behan RHA at Murrisk, Co Mayo
Aad de Gids is from Schiedam, Netherlands. He works as a psychiatric nurse. trance the ibisworld by Aad de Gids is available on Poethead. He has co-authored Machinations (KFS Press) an ekphrastic collaboration with Michael McAloran soon to be reissued via Oneiros Books , and a text collaboration Code #4 Texts (Oneiros Books, 2014). His chapbook acryl lacquer lost in the forest was published by Bone Orchard Press in 2014.Books by Aad de Gids

acryl lacquer lost in the forest
Code #4 Texts 
Machinations -
trance the ibisworld
fleur de lys not, but hemlock and yet roses red, pink, yellow,
ligustrum fully gleaming green, the yellow variant of digitalis,
lilies abundant, pink, red and orange in honour of carolyn, the
first buds of saponaria, phlox and a wide assortment of herbs
still undecidedly in the nursery, bilobal firstlings, definitely out,
drawn, because of incessant springsun, rundspringa this fresh
naive sun still easily bearable, friendly, ecofriendly, drawing at
the anthracite earth this anciennity of green carpet when we
walked then, unforgotten and long, long forgotten, softly enjoying
this mildest of pains, pains of the antropocene, connected with
and dissipative condensed out of our collective retroretrieving
unmight, the sheer vulnerability of wo/man, shone by this light
and still we keep searching for the path, home, to the source,
in, out, up, down, left, right, through, before and after where we look
as an archingly achingly old GPS saying, like the birds “this is me”
“here i am” and thinking of the dead continuance “the world”
trance the ibisworld is © Aad de Gids

- Image © Bas de Gids
between inexhaustive mappology
between unphilosophic ‘just a bit walking in the rain and before the rain’
and acknowledging a huge new tiredness of the soles of the feet and muscles
of the legs, arms, pulses, thorax, back, shoulders, face, mouth, calves, thighs and
fleeing the rain also a hazardous affair with halfly a sense of direction, plan
a tired jazz, an endjazz heralded because it gives a spread of soothening space,
that we’re heading slowly towards an end finally,bc gals and boys are we tired
even the boids are tired only MARS has this mussoliniesque presentism to
boss everyone around my god he would even boss a dawg around looking down
upon him, her, with that ‘go fuck yourself’ look, well when MARS isn’t tired that
then isn’t indicative for the levels of the meteorological and emotional tiredness
of the evening, shall this be spring and how lonesome a saxophone, no distant
saxophone, uncertain trumpet , lyotard, with these variables we shall try to
start some mappology of emotions, scents (the magnificent loukhoum by
keiko mecheri, beverly hills, the eau poudrée, this almond-turkish delight confection)
a fantastically jazzy contribution to a somehow emptied out, dysphasic evening
an earned disorientation, an earned depersonalization, longitudinal saxophone
sexy clichéeing not so much as the desolateness of gritty tiles slabs of stones
in the evening which at once invite and make you forget to walk on them, walk
like a hooker walk like a banker walk like a streetwalker, a cigaretteuse who
sexily smokes her pall mall and spikes it with some coke, some laBrea decency
and this is the last evening all is still coloured and cold a spikey spring is waiting
to fill the greenery and furnish the globe also in ‘artificial land’ whereto our
sojourn inescapably leads us and she whore her polyester diaphanous miniskirt
and ‘tonight i am gonna sell every inch of my body’ a micropolitique du jour
between inexhaustive mappology is © Aad de Gids

Image Bas de Gids Thanks to Aad De Gids for the two poems. I begged trance the ibisworld from him when I read it on a Facebook note. It is related to some images by Leonard Baskin who illustrated Crow by Ted Hughes. I hope Poethead readers enjoy Baskin’s extensive sculptural and lithographic work as much as I do.
Aad De Gids ekphrastic textual collaboration with Michael McAloran, Machinations is linked in series below here.
Images are © Bas De Gids