Erasure

©2015 Nicole Rigets

“… you can go back into it and find something else…”, someone said.

“Ripping out a page steals the silence.” N.Rigets

Found Poems go back to the time of T.S. Elliott

 

“Launch each Moment”Sita

 

 

©2015 Nicole Rigets©2015 Nicole Rigets

 

 

 

 

Dream VII

Fully developed

fantasy vision life.

Can’t sleep

dream.

Demoralizing inward

strength to go,

have your tongue and swallow anger,

Embark painful self

I envy.

Thrilling people

turn the page.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

 

Many chapters had been roughly torn from a paperback… I received three pages.  I searched to find a poem by connecting an assemblage of words between, above, and below the printed text in front of me.  This is how ‘Dream VII’ was written.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

Sensory Imagery

"Untitled"
“Untitled” ©2015 Mark Teasdale Photography

Mark Teasdale photographed this event Live… and is now producing a series of Altered Images based on his originals. See more of his work at: https://www.flickr.com/photos/bcbusinesshub/

Teasdale & I have collaborated on Artworks in the past.  This Photograph evokes feelings spoken through a Haiku ©N.R. Rigets.

“Play the role around, around,

Spot leopard divine

Rings and nails and circus eves.”

©2015 Nicole Rigets

 

This Ink is Bugging Me

Journal Entry October 22nd, 2014:  I’m not expressing myself well today.  This ink is bugging me – it’s too strong and all wrong for my mood.  I remember I purchased it to write up a condolence card.

This insightful poem is from a series I wrote called:  “Eat the Whole Bag”.  It was written well before K.A.’s end came, in the sad form of Divorce, and a Forced Sale.

“The Katherine Ann House”

Her house was as jumbled as a junkyard,

"The sun's leaving the day with a hard, cold kiss."
‘K.A.’                                                                             The sun’s leaving the day with a hard, cold kiss.

as warm as a tea cozy,

as old as her Grandmother’s thimble,

as worn as a Sterling locket,

as winning as a war,

as engaging as a lock…

and as fatal as an affair.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

Swallow Up & Over Show

Doors inside out.  The occupants never thought of them; instead they thought of boxes.  The ones piled up too high behind the locker door made of corrugated metal, and heavy, and blue grey, with a cold past squeezing out from around it. This was really a solid gate, not a door.

Real doors were warm and wooden and painted red like the ones on the front of heritage homes.  That’s the best color for a door because it shows off a Christmas wreath just right.  It draws attention to its structure and co-ordinates well with a black wrought iron mailbox.  The lawn is happy with a complimentary splash of color.

False Front
False Front

Birds find it cheerful, and the loud rumblings heard coming from behind it; the angry voices, the shouting seem even more violent when passing through the scarlet wound of the house.  If the door were made of glass, one wonders if the occupants would be quieter and reflective.  Who made a decision to inflame the door; and when was it so.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

Paper Hearts along the Sill

Happiest of times

before they kissed you goodbye

never grew long roots.

"Impressions IV"
“Impressions IV”
"Impressions VI"
“Impressions VI”
"Impressions V"
“Impressions V”

A Document of Light and Expression.  My camera is a buffer:  a shield;  it sits close to my heart.

©2015 Nicole Rigets

Unconcerned Dismay

"Breathing into the Past"
“Breathing into the Past”

 “Into rose petals… past the breeze from a window… Love me I love you”

"Whispers from the Past"
“Whispers of Sentiment”

 

Another day of discovery arrives in fog… fog, in a hue,the very same as this   text I’ve chosen.  

 

"Committed to Memory"
“Committed to Memory”

 

 

 

Wild experimentation has led to a myriad of possibilities using tools and techniques from Apple, WP, and accidental goodies.

 

 Copyright ©2015 Nicole Rigets

 

Hemlock Whispers

I asked the hemlock,

“How much have you seen”?

His rustic bark seeps

with sap and secrets.

I let chords from my heart

weave their way into

the chords of his trunk.

“How much have you seen”, I say.

A seaplane scoots across above,

the engine drowns out

the hemlock’s reply

and all to be heard

is my very long sigh.

Eat & Chew Overdone Laughter

Limes & Gladiolas

Sitting by the Limes

Hockey on T.V.

Left Side (L.S.)

Dark-haired Man

in black turtleneck

Far Right (F.R.)

All shapes & colors

of glass bottles

in between L.S. & F.R.

“Domes of Glasses”

Man with dark

hair, white golf

shirt & trendy

eyeglasses at

opposite end of bar

(O.E.O.B.)

and out past O.E.O.B.

a heritage brick

BLDG 6 storeys

high with 3 trees – light green dark green yellow-green mix

Woman with

long hair

Heads thrown

back, mouths

open wide:

showing strong

white teeth

Laughter, loud,

overdone, new

relationship

excites.

Hands waving

up, back & forth

up & down very

fast, now steadied

by a glass of wine.

He manfully

eats & chews

his meal as if

he has taken

big bites of her

and is digesting

this encounter.

His hard &

punishing body

language softens

with his “kitten”

next to him &

he begins to

settle into an

interview by

learned response.

The line is the

same well

rehearsed,

mandatory prelude

to a loving interlude

Her finger waves

& points, he leans

forward, appearing

interested.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Paper and Wood

“Paper White”

I’m paper, I’m wood,

Others say I’m not good.

I bleed & I boil

In Millenium toil.

Sambuca’s my nitro,

I don’t have a right to,

Fame, Fortune, Gain or Reward.

My mind’s going crazy,

My future is hazy,

My Love’s pierced my heart with his sword.

50 years of days being a good little girl,

Have led me to places where others are cruel,

Welfare to West Van, I saw the way,

To escape all oppression, and brighten each day,

It worked for awhile,

then life wore me down,

and the man that I love

changed his smile

to a frown.

I’ve let my hair down,

I want to be me,

excited and wanton

and explicitly free,

Mysterious nights, Sirocco days,

Love in my heart,

my thighs, and my ways.

I’m going to control me,

I’m going to be thin,

let others in

To my world carved from life.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Saturday Night on “The Drive”

October 31/November 1, 1997.

PASSING A DARK

CHOCOLATE DIPPED

GINGER SPEAR PAST

MY LIPS, I INHALE

THE MYSTERIOUS

PERFUME OF CIGAR

SMOKE.  IT GIVES A

RICH & EXOTIC FLAVOUR

TO THE SUGARY

CHOCOLATE PASSING

BETWEEN MY LIPS

AND TEETH.

UP ANOTHER GROOVY

BLOCK, A NON-

INDIVIDUAL CON-

CENTRATES HARD

OVER A SMALL CRUMB

OF COCAINE.  ROCK,

SO MINISCULE, KNIFE

OVERPOWERS, BEADS

OF SWEAT FROZEN

ABOVE BROW, NOW!

TOO HARD AND IT WILL

SKID INTO FINITE

SPACE, REALITY

STOPPED TOO SMALL

TO MAKE A DIFFER-

ENCE, TOO INSIGNIFICANT

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

UP ANOTHER CHAOTIC

BLOCK, NOISE FUELS

THE SPACE, FILLS THE

HEAD.  T.V. SATELLITE,

BOOMING JUNKERS,

VOICES, LOUD.  ALL

TONES, ALL PITCHES,

LANGUAGES, MENTALITIES

EMOTIONS, DRAMA,

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I’M IN A MOVIE,

SILENT CAMERAS.

FILMING NEVER

CEASES, FILLS EACH

NERVE, EVERY BRAIN

CELL, COMPLETING

SENSES.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

SHOUTING, THE

GLOBE REVEALS

ITSELF ON 5 SCREENS

PLAYING SIMULTANEOUSLY

INCESSANTLY,

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

SEARCH FOR SIGNIFICANCE.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~  ~~ ~~ ~~

PIERCING SHRIEKS,

PIERCING EARS,

PIERCING NOSES, NOISES

AND ALL OTHER

BODY PARTS.  TATTOO

YOU.

SHARP PENETRATION

OF MEN’S COLOGNE

ADAMANTLY AND

REPEATEDLY,

VOCALLY

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

SUDDENLY,

HE CAME!

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

FUSING BEAUTY

& HEAVY METAL

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

MESHING

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets