One Step Away by Caroline Rumley

One Step Away is a touching, personal piece by Caroline Rumley, an outstanding writer and film-maker whose work has been awarded and screened widely at international festivals and events over the past several years.

Written from a dream, the video has an understated quality focusing on simple details, a light touch that is evident in much of her work. The choices in found footage and the rhythmic editing are deft and assured. Caroline’s writing seems to arise only to be entwined with media, and the filmic elements are just as poetic as her words. Artist statements describe an interest in the “thin-sliced instance, the brief flash that tells you all you need to know.”

Moving Poems has previously published another three of her videopoems. One Step Away is not recently produced but Caroline’s films are so beautiful they seem never too late to share.

Noho Mai by Peta-Maria Tunui

Winner of the 2020 Ó Bhéal Poetry-Film Competition, Noho Mai is a simple, slow and gentle piece, balm in troubled times. It is spoken in the Māori language (te reo), with English subtitles to be found in the closed captions (bottom right of the Vimeo player).

The project was initiated and facilitated by Charles Olsen and Lilián Pallares. Charles is a New Zealander now living in Spain. Conceived at the start of the pandemic, it became an online collaboration between artists in the two countries. The poem was written by Peta-Maria Tunui as part of an exploratory workshop process that also involved contributions from Waitahi Aniwaniwa McGee, Shania Bailey-Edmonds and Jesse-Ana Harris.

Charles has written at length about the film here.

Suspiro by Matilde César

An author-made poetry film by Portuguese photographer Matilde César. If there’s one thing poetry- and music-lovers know about Portugal, it’s the importance of saudade, “a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for something or someone that one cares for and/or loves.” This minimalist film, with its actors like dancers trying to remember the dance, is drenched in that emotion, as the Vimeo description suggests:

Suspiro is a film born from the longing to return home. After being 10 months away from Portugal, the desire of creating something that would connect me with my homeland was big so I resorted to my language and to nature to try to find this connection. This was the result.

Director: Matilde César
Sound: Flora Nolan
Participation of: Aneesa Julmice and Flora Nolan
Poem “Suspiro”: Written and recited by Matilde César
Location: Coney Island, NYC

“Final project for my Multimedia class at NYU Tisch,” it says on her website,

On a personal note, I have been weathering a form of saudade myself for many months, thinking of my former partner in London and wondering whether I’ll ever see any of my friends there again. And I’ve been on the verge of shutting down Moving Poems more than once. But what made me want to continue with the site was remembering how much delight I’ve always gotten from finding new-to-me poets and filmmakers on the internet. I ran across Suspiro earlier this week as the result of a random search on Vimeo, and despite—or perhaps because of—the melancholic content, I did a little happy dance next to my desk. I’m back.

waxing gibbous 97% illuminated by Yolanda Movsessian

This film by Mitchell Collins, with poetry and recitation by Houston-based poet Yolanda Movsessian, won the Judge’s Prize at REELpoetry Houston 2022.

Tango Two & The Singer’s Hands by Gary Barwin

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It’s fascinating to see what an imaginative experimental poet can do with a given text. The contrast in visuals here couldn’t be more striking, but the text beginning with “life is long” is identical (though The Singer’s Hand does begin with a separate text as well). Gary Barwin explains what he was up to with the latter in a blog post:

Of course, Ukraine has been on my mind lately, like it has been on everyone’s mind. Yesterday, someone on my Facebook feed posted a field recording of an old Ukrainian woman singing. I was very struck by the song and her haunting voice as well as by her powerful presence. However, the thing that struck me the most was her hands: strong, thick and always moving as she sang. They were very expressive: a life, emotions, age, strength. So, I made this video using two of my poems which I feel relate to loss, strength, war, grief and love; I feel like they connect to a sense of what is happening now.

I used a close-up of this singer’s hands in this video as well as introducing other visual elements. The music is a remix that I did (adding various clarinets and saxophones plus a bunch of electronics) to a recording of a rehearsal which my sister-in-law Pam Campbell sent me of her singing with her group Tupan.

The post goes on to share both poems as plain text, “Blue Train” and the untitled one from “Tango Two.”

For more on Gary Barwin (including links to his books), visit his website.

Utility Pole by Fiona Tinwei Lam and Mary McDonald

A very effective collaboration between two Canadian poetry filmmakers, Mary McDonald and Vancouver poetry laureate Fiona Tinwei Lam. Here’s the description from Vimeo:

Utility Pole is a poetry film collaboration between poet Fiona Tinwei Lam and poetry filmmaker Mary McDonald. Utility Pole explores the transformation of trees into the poles that hold our communications, the many branched network that connect us, as the trees have been severed from each other and their own living networks.

The soundscape is a binaural, 360 soundscape featuring a mix of urban forest sounds, with the sounds of technology today and the pointed call of Morse code, our earliest technologically enabled transatlantic communication. Morse code recording is from Freesound.org credits, Bryce835.

This was featured at the indispensable Poetry Film Live site. Go there to read the poet-filmmakers’ bios. As they note, the text of the poem appears in Tinwei Lam’s third collection, Odes & Laments.

Bullets by Brayden

For World Poetry Day, here’s an Ohio preschooler’s poem animated by Ukrainian artist Stas Santimov. It’s from a project called Preschool Poets:

Old snakes, loose teeth, hot tubs, and ugly people in your face.
This is the world when you are four.

For nearly a decade, resident artist Nancy Kangas led a poetry program for preschool-aged children at Columbus Early Learning Centers on the near east side of Columbus. She was struck with how clearly her kids wrote about what they loved and feared. They want bullets to relax, lions to roar, and kids to climb up to the sun.

Nancy and documentary filmmaker Josh Kun asked award-winning international artists to animate these poems, and the resulting hand-crafted animations show a depth and complexity of expression we don’t expect from four-year olds. The films are fueled by the children’s untethered imaginations, but they open a portal to the real world of growing up in the inner city.

Thanks to Maria Popova for highlighting this. You can read the text of the poem there, or at the project site.

Dobre mašine / Good Machines by Ana Pantić

I’m surfacing after a long hiatus to share the latest author-made videopoem by Serbian poet Ana Pantić, who included this description at YouTube:

Poetry film Good Machines (Dobre mašine)

Ana Pantić – poem, voice, film
Nebojša Anđelković – original music, sound editing
Milan Bogdanović – sound editing
Videopoezija, Belgrade 2022

This poetry film, composed of only two clips, highlights subconscious thought processes activated by everyday mechanical actions. The poem came about after the video, although this kind of creative process is considered to be the reversed one, I find it quite inspiring.

This appeals to my metalhead side as well as my poetry side, with lyrics that wouldn’t be out of place in a modern death metal album. In times like these, maybe that’s what we need? I know it’s what I need!

Jux/ta/po/si/tion by Miriam Hechtman

https://youtu.be/Mpl57ewno6s

Jux/ta/po/si/tion is an author-made videopoem by Australian performance poet Miriam Hechtman, whose array of projects include founding and directing POETICA, a regular live poetry and music event in Bondi, Sydney.

The poem takes an abecedarian structure to convey minimal but strongly resonant meanings. The effectiveness of these arises from the inventiveness of word combinations. The piece is minimal in film-making elements as well, with layered voice and text on screen giving distinct perspectives on the poetic text.

I see a connection here with the work of well-known Adelaide videopoet Ian Gibbins, especially his Game Over: Grand Final Edition. Subject and expressive tone are unique to each artist, but I find a similarly bold, experimental approach to film-making and to poetry in these videos.

I discovered Jux/ta/po/si/tion on the website for a recent poetry cinema event in Canberra, curated by Jacqui Malens. That program is now on permanent exhibition at the Poetic City website.

Escribimos/We Write by Juan Bullón et. al.

An exemplary anthology videopoem from Seville-based poetry filmmaker Juan Bullón’s creative writing workshop. Be sure to click the CC (closed captioning) icon if you need the English translation (which is very good). As Juan told me in an email last November:

This year, with some of the students from my Creative Writing workshop, we decided to create a single piece, and although the stories that each one recites are more or less different, I think it can be seen as a single work made up of a few very personal poems and stories. Besides, all the authors are in the video, we all act. Another bet we made was to use as few verses or words as possible of what each one had written on the image, trying not to be so graphic so that the image and text could walk in parallel instead of chained.

The poems and authors in order: DICEN/THEY SAY by Juan Bullón; ESFINGE NEGRA/BLACK SPHINX by Carmen R. Hiraldo; DE CÓMO UN GRAMÁTICO APENADO SE QUEJA DESATENTO/HOW A SAD GRAMMARIAN COMPLAINS DISTRACTED (COOL) by Carmen Galeto; MAULLIDOS Y ESPANTOS/MEOWS AND HORRORS by Manuel Rodríguez de los Santos; SABER/KNOWING by Pedro García Ordiales; and ÚLTIMO DESPACHO/LAST DISPATCH by Juan Bullón. To read the original texts, go here, and for the translations, go here.

Scratching at the Surface of Tears by Jill Munro

Filmmaker Karen Dennison writes in a blog post,

As part of Abegail Morley’s series of posts on The Poetry Shed on the theme of Unlocking Creativity, I compiled a film as a prompt with a call out to poets to respond. Jill Munro wrote a fantastic poem in response and here is the resulting film poem.

Click through for the text of the poem and a short biog of Munro.

You Still Have Something of The Ghost About You by JinJin Xu

For International Women’s Day, here’s a cento videopoem by JinJin Xu 徐今今, a poet and filmmaker from Shanghai. Here’s the Vimeo description:

The cento-film “You Still Have Something of the Ghost About You” was shot in the hauntingly empty casinos during the COVID-19 pandemic in Macau, China after I left mandatory government quarantine and realized I’d stumbled into the underworld. The polyvocal collage slips the viewer into an otherworldly, post-COVID globalized hypnosis: interweaving strangely prescient texts from Chinese and Western epics such as Dream of the Red Chamber, Journey to the West, Beastiary, Dante’s Inferno, and contemporary texts such as John Cage’s X, and Gu Cheng’s Ying’er, to journey into the afterlife of forgetfulness.

As a former comparative literature major, I love this blend! And I’m always excited to see up-and-coming poets integrating filmmaking into their practice. Xu’s bio notes that after getting her BA at Amherst College, she “traveled for a year as a Thomas J. Watson Fellow recording docu-poems with women dislocated across nine countries.” She’s currently in the MFA program at NYU, and her chapbook There Is Still Singing in the Afterlife just came out in November, after winning the inaugural Own Voices Chapbook Prize from Radix Media. Be sure to follow her on Vimeo.