HTML Backgorund Color

  About   /  Archive   /   Seasons   /  Print   /  Tenement   /  Shop


Diamanda DRAMM

(and her SUBVERSE musical extravaganza) 


    and mashed
    and edited by


there are different images of women and men and their voices we can draw. whether the voice of death, it’s fear, the angel sat upon our shoulders a whole lifetime only heard when, at the end, it extends its wing.

or a belief in immortality, or a daily release of madness, ticks, squables, feuds. self orientated and recently, self-diagnosed diseases.

the voices are coming. the world population doubling, folding in on itself, doubling again, necessary, heroes procreating, distancing themselves from death and dying.

doubling again, filling up the earth with voices, at first crying, getting their way, magicians who make things happen, to their will, with only a voice, a voice without language.

then language, then denial, then the magic stops and hate to the heroes, then heroic the child makes more voices, space being endless, doubling voices, stacking being endless, feuding, crying, procreating, stacking, crying.

without hearing of the outer world, doubling, what is hearing of the inner voice ?

the nature of being young
is doubt is in doubt is in

because they’ll run

because jet set

because your words sound better when my words are put through your words because my words sound better when your words are put through my words because nukes and tech and duping because it is you, that smell because the words sound better when your words are put through our words
because it is you, that smell because you were just 2 nights in a life of what 100000 because our words sound better when my words are put through your words
because why not ? because a word sounds better when your words are out through our words
because what ?
because well in a life you can’t have because inside your sticky ribs you are well good
because you were silk and you drew it because you were talented and asking because you were cheeks and intact because you were frozen veins, uncuttable because a word sounds better when our words are out of my words
because what ? because a word sounds wetter when your words are out of my words
because you were a war because a word sounds letters when my words are out of your worms
because no because last words sound letters when some words are out of your worms
because we know
because we say it
because we can say  because two words sound better when my worms are out of your words

because three words sound hotter when your worms are out of my birds and four words sound fatter when my birds are into your worms and five words sound water when my verbs are into your wombs six words sound slaughter when my curbs are stomped on your tombs seven words sound laughter when your loves are warmed on my doom

you know that life for a minute ?
let’s pretend. we’re in the jungle.
the jungle, where ugly finds itself. but you get used to it, because it is you, that smell
worried about things you can’t change

and while you were worried about your mother’s drinking and what kind of poetry is going on, and AI
it was chimp who landed on your shoulders and stuck his middle fingers into your ears
like a medieval helmet covered in oliver oil and made two fists and ripped your ears off down
and as your hands came up to cup your lost ears chimp grabbed your fingers in a flower bunch
like it was the brakes on your fancy city bicycle for the green future and squished them together with strength you didn’t know and then broke them back against themselves
and tried to pull them off
and partially succeeded
and put some of them in Chimp mouth
and chewed
and looked around and looked at you and waited and couldn’t tell what species you were even ?

can we cold
can we memory
can we grip the dim
can we know

i see you lamb winding yourself where i see you lamb hunting yourself bare

can we know
can we say it

mortal line lamb mirror its own heat
mortal line lamb memory serves meat

what can’t be attached will not be clean what won’t be retached withnot be seen

i see you lamb winding yourself where i see you lamb hunting yourself bare

what wouldn’t be compact must’ve been pristine

i see you line love winding yourself where
hold your foot bare of

Without hearing of the outer world, doubling, what is hearing of the inner voice ?

an internal deafness as trend, as help to access a thousand opinions online. Crying, needing to share, apparently, waiting magic again, imaging there are some listening. Pretending all are not just sharing, opinions, altering nothing, is magic, crying, feuding, haring ? Crying. No. Listening, no hearing.

An inner voice suggesting—perhaps ?

Stranging, no crying , don’t admit that, that second voice, didn’t say that, no hurting, inspiring. God is the second voice, a second voice in metre, the inner voice, lisping.

A memory from a small voice, before the first voice was.

Voice without essence, third voice in nature, both sounds and meanings, symbols as the meaning, the voice only thought the latter, only heard the former.

born too late to explore the world
born too early to explore the universe
born just in time for this

show me your shy office
where your heart is blue
show me your dark valley

SJ Fowler’s Beastings: Lyrics and Expanded poems (Sampson Low, 2019), can be found here; SJ Fowler’s I will show you the life of the mind (on prescription drugs) (Dostoyevsky Wannabe, 2019), can be found here; SJ Fowler’s The Great Apes is presently unpublished. Diamanda Dramm’s BEASTINGS—an ep based on Fowler’s poetry—can be found here.

Diamanda La Berge DRAMM grew up in Amsterdam, the Netherlands playing the violin since the age of four. Growing up among the leading figures of the Dutch classical, avant-garde and improvisation scene, her own concerts reflect all of these elements. In 2018 she was the first ever string soloist to win the Dutch Classical Talent Tour & Award. Diamanda studied at New England Conservatory and at the Royal Conservatory in the Hague. Recent performances include solo concerts with the Metropole Orchestra, and an Indonesia tour giving workshops and concerts. In 2020, Dramm was in residence at Musikfest Bremen as winner of the Deutschlandfunk Förderungspeis. Dramm is a founding member of Splendor, a collective of 50 artists in Amsterdam who co-run a working space and concert hall. See here.

SJ FOWLER is a writer and artist who works in poetry, fiction, theatre, film, photography, visual art, sound art and performance. He has been commissioned by Tate Modern, BBC Radio 3, Whitechapel Gallery, Tate Britain, the London Sinfonietta, Wellcome Collection and Liverpool Biennial. He is the director of Writer’s Centre Kingston and European Poetry Festival. See here.


Submissions     ︎      ︎

Partner to a press called Tenement, Hotel is a publications series for new approaches to fiction, non fiction & poetry & features work from established & emerging talent. Hotel provides the space for experimental reflection on literature’s status as art & cultural mediator. 

Mailing List