Listening for sounds
waiting for a space transit
rain filling gray days.
by Emmy Horstkamp 12/3/2024
Colour / March 12 / 2024
Out in the Crowd / March 4 / 2024
Out in the crowd - Look, take a chance, go. Moments passing, life alarms and black birds overhead. A mist rising, doors closing, sun beams relaying. Monday started. Evaporating with morning, spring arrives Year's week nine.
Digital Men / February 27 / 2024
Office focused individuals inhabiting space and hierarchy.
*Remembber structure and social placing*
Investigate the whys later - low lying connections and raven's warnings.
Every digital man covered in data. Arriving in time for Tuesday's work day groove.
Methodical pace between buildings on beaten paths chosen.
Chilled air - two different lives.
by Emmy Horstkamp 27/2/2024
Retake Day February 17 / 2024
Negotiating nothing new.
Crossing neither with badges or ribbons.
Years entwined rolling in digital space.
Heading to puzzle town, no hesitations.
by Emmy Horstkamp 17/2/2024
The collaboration photos and poems are written daily and will be available in 2025 as a book published by FoxRavenPress.
The above poem was written from a longer Storeyean poem. Four poems were written today based on a daily commute between two locations.
Other One / February 9 / 2024
Can we start the OTHER one?
A rainy friday morning impression.
Sight and faces again contoured.
by Emmy Horstkamp
Conversations / February 7 2024
Informal eight Commute
full of noise and bikes;
Looselipped conversations.
by Emmy Horstkamp
This morning, I commuted to work three hours later than usual. The crowd at the later time is different. The commuters sat together and talked during the trip, a little like the early afternoon commute.
They talked about work and other things which happened the day before or that day. I heard their words while standing near a bunch of foldable bikes. Someone was talking about the bikes and saying that if the queen stood next to a bike, the person might lose the bike if she stood by a bike, the bike could possibly be hers. So if the queen was standing like I was next to his or her bike, the owner of the bike would have to wait to see if the queen walked off the train with the bike or asked him to assemble the bike and then rode off on it.
I realised after hearing this conversation that there is a little bit of risk owning things in the United Kingdom. People of the Aristocracy or the Monarchy could ruin your commuter day by just liking your bike and inferring that they want it.
I promise the universe that if I want a second bike, I will go to the store and buy it. I will never take a bike away from someone except in an emergency, and then I would pay you for it. Promise.
No crying eyes ok.
Waves / February 6 / 2024
Maybe it’s raining.
The wind blowing at the office building,
“Water damage,” said the guard.
by Emmy Horstkamp
The waves from the Thames
Pigeons fluffed on the walkway
Cobblestone bypass.
by Emmy Horstkamp
The poems above were written while walking to an office along the Thames. The walk between one office space and another took me past the Tate where a group of birds were sleeping on the onramp to the bridge. I walked as quietly as I could around them. The group of twenty fluffled their feathers but did not walk or fly away.
This area of London is quiet before eight and I walked to London Bridge without having to stop.
Ha-Ha
Turn up the soundwaves.
Half-toned tellings nothing.
Inked HA-HA eight hours hauled.
by Emmy Horstkamp
