Arrive children slash at. National wrists in garden motion. Having moans sixty counting your rib-cage. Drool scrap eyes multiply what we were saying untranslated. Overdose orchard pivots tune circles. Cook traditional a risky proposal.Manic chivalry cities amethyst teeth of exquisite touch. Appear as unique folds of wool. Just lighting has this piano kissing now. Flower math whole tones befriended into sliding bells. Half the elfen joy squirming. Rubies peopled information breakfast as you click apart. Nothing lived from uncomfortable with objects. Piano dementias border rays sanguine so life is yourself writing covers. Nodes as talcum powdering industrial done again admitted bruises of one mutation. Drones of abstraction. Soft distance. Where is fair to the elephant and the egg? Lucky airplane noses an eschaton. Not complete seems to be a prayer to the microscope burn. Potentiality hips maybe stricken eagles agony wisp. A tower as such servile hands never to one. Searched excusing itself from half a stone. Dynamite feel flowered. Mercury barges and bridges sex and violence drums lapping at worlds full of illumination.
Thanks RP. I wasn't sure if "language is golden as it's writ" was a good way to end. But feel better now about it. Love yr stuff too. It's always a joy to read. & inspiring language.
Horrific-omniscient, she reigns over worm-people leveraged by confidence in syntax. & shell shocked at shoe sales --1/2 off all leather boots & fashion accessories-- she intimates her presence in postmodern novellas meted by guard dogs spontaneously. A quantity censored &. Governed by providence, sveldt as. The language she innovates. She calculates like cosines. The last sandal [size five] dangles from graft. Worm-people applaud her from the stone plaza below.
in the secular world of fractalism the trashtology ministers communicated varicolored x-missives summoning gratitude since some fractals are obesities and the remainder possess malnutrion
is psychedelia back & no one told me? this is a terrific manipulation of space time. i just have to stop & take a look at it again & again as i scroll thru the postings. it's like watching beautiful people having sex or a weird accident caught on video. I just can't look away. or do i just love black lites? anyway i like what it does.
This furnace yacht, a correspondence amid branch and branches
Stuff upon the lurk amid this proletariat. Swings and peat. Matriculate at first (a second wave to come). These blessings. Are we thankful. Center strange. Appellate court room full. TV. And you at back in brackets. Noon day sun. Monsoon. No matter what occurs, occurs to me. Rinse cycle. No deliberations. Here comes course of action. Catastrophic. Lurch. In situ. Plainsong, steel unclasped. The steering in a column, still.
Today--to oUr satisfaction--steamrolls 4-thousand in there pitching, managing great-grandmother(s), son(s), and daughter(s): that I then read patient suffering. A loyal SALary man climbed up in the tree (the typhon totally untrue). Death bones brain. My much-loved Miss Googles alwayS the Shipping Clerk dressed as Monkey Girl Biker. (An Ion!)
in the last world there’s a kind of paradise, the essence of pure bliss in which you are oddly conscious you exist - you can’t see anything. Not even there it’s possible though to speak to God, not even as dead men - each manages himself own light
in the last world there s a kind of paradise, the essence of pure bliss in which you are oddly conscious you exist - you can t see anything. Not even there it s possible though to speak to God, not even as dead men - each manages himself own light.
Reason is an aid to stories. It's the ghost out of the cell. --Lyn Hejinian
Holly's monolith de l'histoire [James Dean] what Holly wld kiss like death rocks below
--what occurs while no one is watching--
a camera that pans
[locked tight on the shoe of] [the face of] Holly's Lacan-grid simulacra [offal-fjord- simulacra-of-etc] hell-bent on Main St.
& strangely & w/ palm trees south of: how do I explain this shot to you? If you don't already know what I'm saying?
***
Whole as Holly's laude oef myte & wrytinge bi Chryste even Holly's heavenly script's a gaff, her life / her death epitomized cinematically / linguistically-- a deadpan perpendicular as self.
A film, wherein, Holly dies-- God's little repentant warrior-saint: "Hope bends us to serve it," she cries, all positings blossoming away. Her ghost on film gets info straight But isn't what Holly wld write herself. "I have become historical," kids Holly "When did I become historical?"
Her vexers' hoot! hoot! bewailing, beseeching off camera: Our snails are tropes! Our snails are tropes! Such rich, rich tiny worlds & of none to live in // upon.
***
Waft'd. Parabolic. Odd.
Holly's little lit-postmodern asks each actor-ghost:
"In this scene does little-road-kill-child die?"
Her doppleganger's ghastly final lines (rehearsed extempore):
Help! Does anyone know how to--one publish a poem-with-quotes without getting the greek alphabet for quote marks? & two--how can I edit the text so that I can get some lines slid over to the right margin (as opposed to the left margin)? & three--how can I view my edits & preview them (& see them as they will appear on the blog)before I blog them for real? I wld appreciate any help. Email me at r.farr@worldnet.att.net Thanks.
congestion advances consumption too much lately must've went wrong somewhere to realize substance breathy lizard of hi how are you to feel like more the beltway's too tight veins are smoked out gophers my addiction to rainbows such a thing as too much bliss the facade and all you know the interior is fetal the mallet of the mind grinds organs into kneejerk cults wall street journal whiskey-stained under a blue light of kissy collision so's your introversion my monocle bent towards asphalt
Pretenders at status-tomato-Argentinian-"non-partiere."
New World: He / She / It: meaning UTOPIA(Gr. For "nowhere" a faux-dwelling in which (OE) "wealcan" meant simply "to roll" whereas "wedding" pledges itself. "Vindr eage" is poesis for "wind's eye" & yes, "wind's" a cretan presupposed: arbitrary, pseudo-etymologia posed as "Jan-Kees on Dutch borders where "stolid" is "mimic" or "tennis," for example, [originally: "tenez" in French, pronounced (tuh-nay)(translated here as: there you go) & yet "visge / beatha" (water of life) still flatters beyond obvious discourses. Yet "starve" in (OE) is still "steorfan," meaning "to die." Bleaker than under / beneath origins' turkey-raging-cinema-marquis, aptly annunciates such neon-ates as olde pal, tete a tete. Or (OE) "head to head": see "kopf," Tide & Time: see "zeit" or "trivia" [the word "trivia" stems from the LATIN "tri" which is 3 & "via" which is road. Thus "crossroads": three streets intersect in Rome at 12 strada decamped, whereas NARRATE dissembles the northern: "slaughter is our slogan" (slogan being Celtic w/ twin roots: "slaugh" & "gheun" translated as "battle" & "cry." Our rebel slogan means: "steorfan"
Thanks simon/crescent for the feedback. I'm sorry you couldn't get the real gist of the poem. I am having trouble with alphabet soup. Mark Young is helping with the fix. Please check back for an edited/revised version of my poetry on As-Is. But thanks for liking what you read.
A noun or meaning black balled by vicars & blonder than dowagers, Lil's grass sickle / her russet silk screen an onion bluer than Dada, athrash in full regalia. Flatter than canvas in Middlesex County, Lil's dry skin of alms lies wooded in quietude, still good in a pinch. Dead out of stop signs, Pollock's her ice man, tapered & loud, haywire as Warhol & just as consumed. In box cars of pistons fucked up on Easter, Lil is a shell mound native to Clongowes, a whisper of ease crazed about Dante, a one of six, a two of only, a four of similar.
Thanks, guido. This ending is one of my favorites of all my endings. I'm glad you like it too. Is yr second comment a quote from Dante? Or something you've written? It sounds like Dante. Great choice of words either way. Ominous. Appealing. & yet deep as a circle of hell.
Constellated interval to pick cyclers abashed by Dull edged bucket hand dipped like fatwa toward Balanced interpersonally alive then stewed Frothing to half a gloat specifically institutionally Or bunched fisted melon at natural intervals Survived along portico estrangement’s enlivened by Causal expresses a ghost quotient inflammatory Selections proposed as among tracks no one walks Congruent with all over trundled up wood side
About the cherish I look onward to little. Misaligned congruent title attempts nature.
Showered up sparks from broken electric wattage About village compressed routine so burned aloud As dance was snuffed by a daily devour hound A rule of simple thumb when thumb ensnared up Hillsides to escape inert correlation towards ecstatic Bloodlines inspirational aquatic defeats lingering Happy as desired sod adjusted to become sailfish In-road bed-mouths rocket a car injun afloat as tunes And mutated lock and ball succinct as prayer
About the cherish I look onward to little. Misaligned congruent title attempts nature.
Terribly swift shore aghast of the logged survivors Long as a dream gone raw out of kinetic shoveled Imaginary bent focus automatically romantic as glad A tale not harbingered a Madonna angelus swinging Her clubfoot at once a revolution mismanaged Remained however a fishing line dank with its lures Fruited in temporal schemata aberrant as lilies Glossary wise to confused all but difficult passages Wondering soil exposed like like to hands of picker
If you strike it, yr highness. Postmodernly with flint. & if it sparks. A postmortem with lipstick. Strategies become wavelengths. Approaching. On foot. The saddle-dreams-catching-fire. Of Nietzsche's Man & Superman. Singing like straw.
(Though to sing as straw. You must believe as straw wld believe. Then masturbate in disbelief.)
Keep in mind, yr highness. Exiles are iPods stooped to in groves. Their music is evidence. Explosions rush to exclude. If email is careless. (Too Coolidge to piano.) Then delete is yr option.
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(2) Comments:
& never seems to tire of propelling itself forward.
Great stuff!
coming from the man who has been making this machine go almost solo for a while now, that is totally cool! :)
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