This week's imagery comes courtesy of Chris Case of Fishfarmtv, fresh off the back of a win at Ireland's Shore Shots Film Festival.

Slack Water (Neritic Sequence)

For Mark Dickinson

The tide moves in, clockwise


Running rightside

Omens of still moon’s silent


Tugging water

Somnambulant, basking pillars


Kelp ladders stack

Hangs at noon, dangles slack


Fools see stasis

The tide falls out, counterclockwise


Gravity in flux

Pools marooned, evaporate


Slumped silva

Exposed hectares of fecund


Wetland deserted

Passages through Umbra


Still, haunted still

photo by Chris Case
photo by Chris Case

Matapalo death dance

His head is the teeming jungle that

Boils like schools of bait fish

Beyond the shelf

His speech is the livid chatter of kingbirds

Jarring chatter, flowing constant

Leaving behind body parts

Digested by

Seething hermit tides

Who render all to mulch

He crashes through your thickets with

Finesse of the white-lipped pig

Inviting you into the trackless interior

With a wry smile, a whispered promise

For he is an ape, of course

Nimble and caged

Cunning as the vipers

In his fingers and tongue

For when you are lost he’ll open up

The nectar bats in his throat

Sickly sweet questions that

Unburden every secret

Avail the forgotten promises of your heart

And break them, one by one

Until lights flicker dim and

The sloth pads through his eyes

And just as you loathe each cell in his being

And vow to leave him

He is the macaw’s scarlet flourish

Temporary as falling light

photo by Chris Case
photo by Chris Case


Time to question the seed ghosts

Sleeping hosts subsurface

Eidolon dreams of a greening

Phantoms of the cracks

Viridian throng, verdant urgency

Their public transport

Moth wings, magpie backs, hare feet

On train tracks, window ledges, under tunnels

Singing where,

Where do we belong?

Abandoned nests and clefts and

Pondering ascendant

Clockwise omens of the still moon’s silent wax

Felt in Eukaryote urges

Blind blanket longings to burst

And stretch siege ladders

To interrupt concrete creep

Our mortal foundations disturb

Tendrils grasping, seeking southern purchase

Pending, imminent growth in the offing

Anything to cradle roots

Rear old heads

Moor the marooned mass of longing

photo by Chris Case

For more of Chris' work visit: