Thanks to MachineGunBang/Juicy Carolina and LadyPillow for letting me use their photos.
This is a still from an animation I am working on :-)
Simon/C
31 Dec 2006
30 Dec 2006
27 Dec 2006
Marjorie's World Unhinged
Recently I caught a production of Maresa Von Stockert's dance theatre piece Marjorie's World Unhinged. This was a fascinating and very artistic exploration of the suffering of dancers (mainly ballerinas) during lengthy training. It acted as an expose on the values of youth, "beauty" and the current obsession with being thin.
"Marjories World" also utilised video in dramatic and varying ways. During the "after show talk" Maresa Von Stockert made it clear that the aim of the piece was to question the notion that one has to quit professional dancing by the age of 30! She used dancers who were over 30 (2 of them were well over 30!) as well as younger dancers. The acrobatics of the older dancers left no doubt in my mind that top level dance is possible at virtually any age.
Joy Constantinides was phenomenal, playing an aging ballerina, falling to the floor and hanging upside down from a table! Max Reed was also amazing as the protagonist's husband. He revealed a sad, obsessive existence, punished by bosses for being, well, over 30! He also danced with vigor and creativity.
Laura Cadlow, Natalia Thorn and Matthew Morris were the younger dancers (Morris a little older than 30!). They all impressed, utilising Von Stockerts cerebral and humorous choreography, with incredible feats of strength (Cadlow dancing under and over a bar) beautiful imagery (Thorn dancing with 4 balloons tied to her limbs) and Morris dancing in a variety of ways, at one point dancing while putting on a dress!
Maresa Von Stockerts choreography is at times "psychoanalytic" and undoubtedly experimental. However, if you go to see one of her performances don't expect a dull, impenetrable exercise in how to baffle and piss-off an audience. Her choreography delights by being bold and aggressive. Von Stockert has an eccentric sense of humor, that never dwindles, even during the weightiest or saddest moments. Her experiments with video are notable, particularly the sequence involving Cadlow holding a mini video camera with her toes and slowly dancing with it. Her image, shifting and changing with the position of her foot, was projected onto the main screen, while unpretentious commentary examined her fears of aging, being fat and not being beautiful enough.
It is unsuprising that Maresa Von Stockert is causing a stir, with her brand of choreography, that is entertaining, intelligent, experimental and humorous. Her themes not only deal with abstract ideas, but embrace problems that affect us all, leaving the theatre goer with plenty to ponder after the show. And you won't leave without a few laughs!
"Marjories World" also utilised video in dramatic and varying ways. During the "after show talk" Maresa Von Stockert made it clear that the aim of the piece was to question the notion that one has to quit professional dancing by the age of 30! She used dancers who were over 30 (2 of them were well over 30!) as well as younger dancers. The acrobatics of the older dancers left no doubt in my mind that top level dance is possible at virtually any age.
Joy Constantinides was phenomenal, playing an aging ballerina, falling to the floor and hanging upside down from a table! Max Reed was also amazing as the protagonist's husband. He revealed a sad, obsessive existence, punished by bosses for being, well, over 30! He also danced with vigor and creativity.
Laura Cadlow, Natalia Thorn and Matthew Morris were the younger dancers (Morris a little older than 30!). They all impressed, utilising Von Stockerts cerebral and humorous choreography, with incredible feats of strength (Cadlow dancing under and over a bar) beautiful imagery (Thorn dancing with 4 balloons tied to her limbs) and Morris dancing in a variety of ways, at one point dancing while putting on a dress!
Maresa Von Stockerts choreography is at times "psychoanalytic" and undoubtedly experimental. However, if you go to see one of her performances don't expect a dull, impenetrable exercise in how to baffle and piss-off an audience. Her choreography delights by being bold and aggressive. Von Stockert has an eccentric sense of humor, that never dwindles, even during the weightiest or saddest moments. Her experiments with video are notable, particularly the sequence involving Cadlow holding a mini video camera with her toes and slowly dancing with it. Her image, shifting and changing with the position of her foot, was projected onto the main screen, while unpretentious commentary examined her fears of aging, being fat and not being beautiful enough.
It is unsuprising that Maresa Von Stockert is causing a stir, with her brand of choreography, that is entertaining, intelligent, experimental and humorous. Her themes not only deal with abstract ideas, but embrace problems that affect us all, leaving the theatre goer with plenty to ponder after the show. And you won't leave without a few laughs!
The Internet and the Theatre (time,assemblage,perception) - brief notes
L'arene chance!
Strangly, as time shifts or, one could argue, expectedly, if one were inclined to do so, time although mottled and hued, acts as an indicator of assemblage (via perception) rather than the assemblage its self or its causation.
Time causes assemblage to splinter and crack, to redefine its splicing, to follow the creative timbre of perception.
Time, as we know, is non-existent, however it is a notion that corresponds to animate, human consciousness. Therefore we can take it that time is existent, atleast to human experience and this misapprehension is necessary, in one shape or form, for human understanding/life.
So, leaving time aside, perhaps seeing it as "flow" like a subatomic particle that passes through things, through people, we are left with assemblage, perception, the Internet and the Theatre.
The playfulness of the Internet experience, that questionable "I"; a place, surely not mon amis (!) leads my thought to shift from one intent, my intended intention to a happenstance intention, one brought about via the virtual world.
It is odd how assemblage, in this sense meaning corresponding ideas and things that assemble in some such way, and then with the passing of time/flow, reassemble in some other way..... It is odd how the stuff of this assemblage, by this I mean the instinct towards creativity, or ideas and their practical execution (things or movement) (tangible expression), alters its definition and outward form, yet the intrinsic stuff (creativity) that is expressed alters very little.
I make no apology for my use of dance-terms, such as "flow", "form", "shift", etc. to express my comprehension of time, assemblage, perception, the Internet and the Theatre. Dance is a very human form of expression, at once apprehensible and deeply evocative. In her book "To Dance is Human" Judith Hanna writes "When dance is suppressed for moral, religious or political reasons, it rises pheonixlike to assert the essence of humanity." Its current popularity would naturally flow then!
By this I refer to the increasing urbanisation of British culture, the increasing change and ever-increasing technologization of Western life and the political and economic malaise and stagnancy of Western life. There are of course, a plethora of other reasons why dance is the current "obsession".
As these notes grow in shape, content and form, ideas, freestyle, occur and the playfulness of Internet writing reminds me of the playfulness of dance, its bodily necessity and bodily enquiry.
The Internet, a fickle and dramatic computer "world", once again, emphasizes the human need to perceive something as humanly explicable, metaphorical, communicable and malleable.
The Internet, of course, is nothing more than electronic connections, shared computer space, a function of human creativity. Yet, being human, to us it is a "virtual world", something intriguing, full of intellectual and practical possibilities.
Of course, the Internet is a theatre.
(Notes not yet complete)
Strangly, as time shifts or, one could argue, expectedly, if one were inclined to do so, time although mottled and hued, acts as an indicator of assemblage (via perception) rather than the assemblage its self or its causation.
Time causes assemblage to splinter and crack, to redefine its splicing, to follow the creative timbre of perception.
Time, as we know, is non-existent, however it is a notion that corresponds to animate, human consciousness. Therefore we can take it that time is existent, atleast to human experience and this misapprehension is necessary, in one shape or form, for human understanding/life.
So, leaving time aside, perhaps seeing it as "flow" like a subatomic particle that passes through things, through people, we are left with assemblage, perception, the Internet and the Theatre.
The playfulness of the Internet experience, that questionable "I"; a place, surely not mon amis (!) leads my thought to shift from one intent, my intended intention to a happenstance intention, one brought about via the virtual world.
It is odd how assemblage, in this sense meaning corresponding ideas and things that assemble in some such way, and then with the passing of time/flow, reassemble in some other way..... It is odd how the stuff of this assemblage, by this I mean the instinct towards creativity, or ideas and their practical execution (things or movement) (tangible expression), alters its definition and outward form, yet the intrinsic stuff (creativity) that is expressed alters very little.
I make no apology for my use of dance-terms, such as "flow", "form", "shift", etc. to express my comprehension of time, assemblage, perception, the Internet and the Theatre. Dance is a very human form of expression, at once apprehensible and deeply evocative. In her book "To Dance is Human" Judith Hanna writes "When dance is suppressed for moral, religious or political reasons, it rises pheonixlike to assert the essence of humanity." Its current popularity would naturally flow then!
By this I refer to the increasing urbanisation of British culture, the increasing change and ever-increasing technologization of Western life and the political and economic malaise and stagnancy of Western life. There are of course, a plethora of other reasons why dance is the current "obsession".
As these notes grow in shape, content and form, ideas, freestyle, occur and the playfulness of Internet writing reminds me of the playfulness of dance, its bodily necessity and bodily enquiry.
The Internet, a fickle and dramatic computer "world", once again, emphasizes the human need to perceive something as humanly explicable, metaphorical, communicable and malleable.
The Internet, of course, is nothing more than electronic connections, shared computer space, a function of human creativity. Yet, being human, to us it is a "virtual world", something intriguing, full of intellectual and practical possibilities.
Of course, the Internet is a theatre.
(Notes not yet complete)
23 Dec 2006
16 Dec 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (53)
legato ribbon brings
jumprope to dark rivers
made the tone of light
for now all simple moments
strung together form
a life
vivacity comes true
because at night
I hear your breath
I offer my own breathing
in response I sing
dream back to you
all starlight you wear
something soft as
your perfumed skin
and I love even
the thought of morning
you against the daytime blue
jumprope to dark rivers
made the tone of light
for now all simple moments
strung together form
a life
vivacity comes true
because at night
I hear your breath
I offer my own breathing
in response I sing
dream back to you
all starlight you wear
something soft as
your perfumed skin
and I love even
the thought of morning
you against the daytime blue
15 Dec 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (52)
posture, my derivative young friend, displays your soul
when you are working, I'm not working to perform you
dried fish, an apple, even harsh tea sets your mind to principles
that form indelible impressions on one resistent audience
whenever furniture is given away,
there is a greater probability of echoing within the room
I call myself a prisoner of discipline
listen to me prompt you to divulge the secret of yourself:
paint makes for adequate disguise
continuance is what is asked and soon after, denied
narration's brimming over with a hunger for description
of what may not be solved, merely admired
when you are working, I'm not working to perform you
dried fish, an apple, even harsh tea sets your mind to principles
that form indelible impressions on one resistent audience
whenever furniture is given away,
there is a greater probability of echoing within the room
I call myself a prisoner of discipline
listen to me prompt you to divulge the secret of yourself:
paint makes for adequate disguise
continuance is what is asked and soon after, denied
narration's brimming over with a hunger for description
of what may not be solved, merely admired
14 Dec 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (51)
white with sweetness wall
warm wall
wafer thin derm face, the wall
weaving threads of mind to equal wall
wheat designs traced on the wall
waffle pattern thought to match the wall
sand
light
small
tone
in a happy way informal certainty endows with texture all the seen and heard perfumed things that comprise a finite universe that comes to seem a permanent . . .
warm wall
wafer thin derm face, the wall
weaving threads of mind to equal wall
wheat designs traced on the wall
waffle pattern thought to match the wall
sand
light
small
tone
in a happy way informal certainty endows with texture all the seen and heard perfumed things that comprise a finite universe that comes to seem a permanent . . .
12 Dec 2006
crescent/hight (from Babels' Dada Wiki)
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)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()encoded__
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'pattern
emergence/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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pale""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""":::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
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'pattern
emergence/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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pale""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""":::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
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au revoir a praeside
frenesia floe fj arbour
canon huten flue fluere [make a]
joke joe daphne flod
bye ye ole dada
ald un waes b b b hobby [touch]
rob hippos ballo fluiten
toc cock menage a
fkuc empiricium [entre nous]
hwisp la lingua!
canon huten flue fluere [make a]
joke joe daphne flod
bye ye ole dada
ald un waes b b b hobby [touch]
rob hippos ballo fluiten
toc cock menage a
fkuc empiricium [entre nous]
hwisp la lingua!
8 Dec 2006
7 Dec 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (50)
maybe repeat the rose
for luck. perhaps
invent another thing
toward relaxing.
another flavor is the sure
intention that shapes
symmetry. whose idea
was it to align?
one morning light
was cold enough
to shift direction
of the small ingredients,
seeking purpose interposed
with shelter. when desire
about a roost begins
to overcome some genius,
ripening becomes inevitable.
which of these ameliorative
flickers will you watch?
a segue would be nice.
even a cloth to cover
pre-dawn plants
arriving at the point
of chill.
for luck. perhaps
invent another thing
toward relaxing.
another flavor is the sure
intention that shapes
symmetry. whose idea
was it to align?
one morning light
was cold enough
to shift direction
of the small ingredients,
seeking purpose interposed
with shelter. when desire
about a roost begins
to overcome some genius,
ripening becomes inevitable.
which of these ameliorative
flickers will you watch?
a segue would be nice.
even a cloth to cover
pre-dawn plants
arriving at the point
of chill.
the first thought
i know nothing of blogs ooh1
nothing atoll^. to stay r
u image nation greek for societal notion rimes (claire) with o(m)tion
formal charplusekka [shift phrase]is tics ist say potatoe
nuffink etc choose areal thought. spurred of toes I know,
nothing of words
nyte for experience they alter par the night
often chasing my trail
to the danceHouse drive Kerplunk
!working irrationally. Aboreal
hoopla revie levi
parsimoni celery mty spaeech
(suggest) is the workers digest attika
collog arrette pert nursing times Anelia rhymes
I got sick wif of Dali asm
Always .org man with a womb painting corpses/copses
must notate questional attributes collaquafe of surrealism
its thorough growth to dada
full fledging rotational
painting. poetry is a
fall from speech a delicate
tree in'st a tute you r
a abre
you dont change your like a tree
tree tree from jism
Greek to stand with arms splayed
your pages are fondu hieroglyphics
Kadra2 the everfestive seevase
rhinoceros boulange
you m'est suis? 8 ^ 33
i could have fucked
i know nothing of blogs ooh1
nothing atoll^. to stay r
u image nation greek for societal notion rimes (claire) with o(m)tion
formal charplusekka [shift phrase]is tics ist say potatoe
nuffink etc choose areal thought. spurred of toes I know,
nothing of words
nyte for experience they alter par the night
often chasing my trail
to the danceHouse drive Kerplunk
!working irrationally. Aboreal
hoopla revie levi
parsimoni celery mty spaeech
(suggest) is the workers digest attika
collog arrette pert nursing times Anelia rhymes
I got sick wif of Dali asm
Always .org man with a womb painting corpses/copses
must notate questional attributes collaquafe of surrealism
its thorough growth to dada
full fledging rotational
painting. poetry is a
fall from speech a delicate
tree in'st a tute you r
a abre
you dont change your like a tree
tree tree from jism
Greek to stand with arms splayed
your pages are fondu hieroglyphics
Kadra2 the everfestive seevase
rhinoceros boulange
you m'est suis? 8 ^ 33
i could have fucked
30 Nov 2006
Words are songs circles [SQUARE on its back at christmas
eyes are lands we ne'er 'ave thought
the ghost of me can ne'er be bought
Moon of a back the problem square
hypothesis to the left eyes R right
oddity the rain got stuck [spirals the cat of the night
the arch of stars intense mechanics
follow the bear to the pole [camera to the left
shift eye soar't flying bricks
tennis shoes you're eyes notice
7 weeks of hell the problem square the cat flap we barely noticed
29 Nov 2006
26 Nov 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (49)
here
is what
happens when sunlight
occupies the th/ought
of heart:
multiplication
others
become one
with each other
I never moonlight
anymore because
equivalence
reveals
without bothering
to explain in
words that only
complicate the
meaning
listen
to all
the sounds here
she tells me
so I
do:
air
machine, cars
passing, hum of
electric lighting although
not needed
noonish
when
I arrive
to speak centuries
her eidetic recollection
providing renditions
anew
I
hear my
stories told back
to me: I
learn them
again
now
salt lamp
some orange, some
gray, gives warmth
as well
as
light,
the quiet
compares well with
time together there
her office
magnifying
each
moment wanted
to last constantly
is what
happens when sunlight
occupies the th/ought
of heart:
multiplication
others
become one
with each other
I never moonlight
anymore because
equivalence
reveals
without bothering
to explain in
words that only
complicate the
meaning
listen
to all
the sounds here
she tells me
so I
do:
air
machine, cars
passing, hum of
electric lighting although
not needed
noonish
when
I arrive
to speak centuries
her eidetic recollection
providing renditions
anew
I
hear my
stories told back
to me: I
learn them
again
now
salt lamp
some orange, some
gray, gives warmth
as well
as
light,
the quiet
compares well with
time together there
her office
magnifying
each
moment wanted
to last constantly
25 Nov 2006
Creative Commons
Hi
Yes I've stuck a creative commons license on the blog. If you look at the foot of the blog u can see it there.
I've put this license on the art/text works on this blog to protect everyone's copyright (ownership of their own work) and to allow collaboration. In other words anyone can use anybody else's work, as long as they give them credit. I've selected Non-Commercial use only, because not everyone may be happy with people making money out of their work???
Anyway, basically everything remains the same, collaboration, and rights to your own work. The only difference being, that this is validated legally. I know some members know about creative commons licenses, but for those who don't...
Anyway, I hope everyone OK with this, if you're not let me know :-)
Simon/Crescent
p.s. If you click on the creative commons logo it will tell you more about it.
Yes I've stuck a creative commons license on the blog. If you look at the foot of the blog u can see it there.
I've put this license on the art/text works on this blog to protect everyone's copyright (ownership of their own work) and to allow collaboration. In other words anyone can use anybody else's work, as long as they give them credit. I've selected Non-Commercial use only, because not everyone may be happy with people making money out of their work???
Anyway, basically everything remains the same, collaboration, and rights to your own work. The only difference being, that this is validated legally. I know some members know about creative commons licenses, but for those who don't...
Anyway, I hope everyone OK with this, if you're not let me know :-)
Simon/Crescent
p.s. If you click on the creative commons logo it will tell you more about it.
24 Nov 2006
Jack Would - Flow (Crescent/Harrykstammer/RobertChrysler)
as the ocean from new zealand to perth and b ey o n d t h e gl a s s molt en sea
if there is a cheaper program i may have figure entwined figures onefloats pyramids water ’tras blued fluid hues of
in oscillated fusion blue clouds and roped off splash boxes in nights passed blackness ending as he began
protects your children from illegal hackers and java surfing habits
touched oddity under the new sun pining under skys monotony to use difficult something that could be animated he would find
he would find o n d t h e gl a s s
I suppose that this liquid in poetry at the sense that it is imaginative prose i feel continuously that text reminds me of the dance floor and the quizzical athletic enquiry of the body's flow to regard the stillness and character of the world
Jack would find syllables falling embrace imaginary teeth incantation the hair accustomed sight tanned the train midnight spray signaling pearls leftions passing ‘imating passions left jaw‘hundred old orange
Jack wood find a brick for a bridge suddenly his ear this text is a collaboration between Harry K Stammer Crescent and Robert Chrysler as the grey nights frown pushed the illusive hued day visible invisible under the side of its weight the
night
he would find
the bleakness of white silver gold sun drenched echoes of off ether
in cloud form rude light
masks of elephantine
motioned photography I don't know Robert Chrysler but I dig the poem, y'know so I thought that I would chuck bits of Robert's and Harry's collaboration into my poem "Jack Would"
inexpensive alternative to (copyright)
as creatures crawled into curling shells
and and dreams turned in pictures cinemas escape the minds of authorial creation
a copyright
find three apples some tomatoes and a lettuce cucumber half jacket potatoes x3 cigarettes paper chicken pieces post letter mayonnaise a copyright stroke muscled purple slabs molecules soarsupine below cusps singing love's draped humming grasswatch
and nothing doing and
Jack would find syllables falling embrace imaginary teeth incantation the hair accustomed sight tanned the train midnight spray signaling pearls leftions passing ‘imating passions left jaw‘hundred old orange
Jack wood find a brick for a bridge suddenly his ear this text is a collaboration between Harry K Stammer Crescent and Robert Chrysler as the grey nights frown pushed the illusive hued day visible invisible under the side of its weight the
night
he would find
the bleakness of white silver gold sun drenched echoes of off ether
in cloud form rude light
masks of elephantine
motioned photography I don't know Robert Chrysler but I dig the poem, y'know so I thought that I would chuck bits of Robert's and Harry's collaboration into my poem "Jack Would"
inexpensive alternative to (copyright)
as creatures crawled into curling shells
and and dreams turned in pictures cinemas escape the minds of authorial creation
a copyright
find three apples some tomatoes and a lettuce cucumber half jacket potatoes x3 cigarettes paper chicken pieces post letter mayonnaise a copyright stroke muscled purple slabs molecules soarsupine below cusps singing love's draped humming grasswatch
and nothing doing and
21 Nov 2006
20 Nov 2006
words circles
I have no need for words
I have no idea what they are
I tell them that they're
images
and they chase me down the highways
to refuse their
meanings, they insist they are
a refuge from americanisation
western academicism
the feminist tradition
words
need me, not even
Noam Chomsky can help over
literal, literally
something more physical
I
challenge
them with sound "you are
just a manifestation of
rhythm and meter a fluctuation
of my breath"
they wind
me
up
with reasons why I
am so aliterary. And when
my stomachs fed and
I'm reading the television
another city
bombed
by Einstein's appalling legacy
Now humour weighs our
anxious position
anchored by co-ordinate
peculiar
we'
ve lethargy to blame
for reasoned contradiction
obstinate and unwilling
for a wordless world
of dancing men
inconclusive
even when
knowing
then
I have no idea what they are
I tell them that they're
images
and they chase me down the highways
to refuse their
meanings, they insist they are
a refuge from americanisation
western academicism
the feminist tradition
words
need me, not even
Noam Chomsky can help over
literal, literally
something more physical
I
challenge
them with sound "you are
just a manifestation of
rhythm and meter a fluctuation
of my breath"
they wind
me
up
with reasons why I
am so aliterary. And when
my stomachs fed and
I'm reading the television
another city
bombed
by Einstein's appalling legacy
Now humour weighs our
anxious position
anchored by co-ordinate
peculiar
we'
ve lethargy to blame
for reasoned contradiction
obstinate and unwilling
for a wordless world
of dancing men
inconclusive
even when
knowing
then
CRESCENT YOU MUST NOT WRITE POETRY LIKE THIS
THE ENDS OF SCIENCE
18 Nov 2006
15 Nov 2006
13 Nov 2006
12 Nov 2006
11 Nov 2006
10 Nov 2006
I no know words the evidence is apperition Sheila Murphy's procrastination parse shift touch words we use today to unscribe the condition of machinated lore
I have no use for words they are not as full as feelings nor as studied as muscle in fact i have no time owns words the tongue to touch the plate the heart to fill the psychomotor to impede classical form
in (i've been drinking again - notice the strain on the analytic faculties) the sounds that prevent my art from functioning
you have schizophrenia with everglades of munchausens with dappled shades of learning difficulties by proxy inability to measure crime adequately morality is tape measure and petunias belt the sucks of leeches surreality is adequate treatment for the homeless condition per se honette homme being one of a refusal to accept benefits or dysfunctional accomodation otherwise we no give u none me son read protocol surrounding mythology
Cornish gloves I'm really going to town saying something against a back drop off phase shift noise off fuck off gleen
the remedy of dada is adequate provision to subscribe vertical to u a church house a karma krud Jimmy Page plays guitar major bauhaus to vorticism to erudite shit in a can bang bang-fuck etre-sex-etre-wank-etre-freud-error literature-slip-who?-Baudrillard- no you know woshisname levi strauss-no-you-know-'im-y'know-er-aw-you-know-Dr.Barnardo-no-french-chap-point-neuf-Oh-Jean-Paul-Gautier-non non non oh-bollocks-Oh yer mean Derrida - oui monsieur-but is he the real one captain tim to persephone footballers singing pop songs reveals the breakage of deconstructionism or the leakage of the slippage into(wards) the pars(onage) of the **faustian dislogic intrinsicity (sic) to piety revealing titty (page 23) or pathos (human condition in machines) twa (aristotlian maladaptation)
actions speek louders tha' words ladders are more wordy than speckles speekles are the orwellesque colloquial twang of the internet off line and gis you tongue da rest
of course, and without authority (petty/pity/putty/pliet/pushy/shark/avant-garde/dark/ink-blot-test/matter of hands/bharatanatyam) my tea awaits me lavish green solidadis leaves a sprinkle of teeth my fathers dentures smoking guns i ciggarette to lace the twain twixt and avarice of time putting demands on my breaks
November city the sun sets at three o'clock i feel the need for romanticism but winter throws blow jobs to the cardy pigeon the business wedge of ethics in trucks blessed by hands that off swimming regionalise the voluntary sector leadership to munchausens specification did yer take your medication the dark nights studied and muted chance the bored trucks skidding lights to find somewhat similar to poetry in the tapestry of images corporeal and quite intangible this mind and body seperation
I release something personal thro' a mobile phone perhaps the most intimate thing i've eva sed down the machinary of objectification the nurture of defeminisation the boldest love i eva had through pixels in a text message broken by disjointed signal i don't expect to meet you i don't expect i eva will your picture perfect or your picture is perfect do you have a webcam we can make out on line?
November city the sun sleeps at dawn the moon (an arse) draws ever closer as a shimmery wind trace, ecriture, downs syndrome, pear shape so i left. We should use words like parse and flow and touch, perhaps tether apparency, motion, body, chance shimmy this side of town (ghost) metaphors are things the statue of a centurian now a visionary cuts the cold like a shadow knife an appeture in the star light
our light is verse bodily tongued and phonetic speach fucking raw and gentle. To lose it now would be too soon. Too soon for chance to play its wild card frantic we must suffer to know bliss we must suffer to parse the coquette of misinformation the cock of money the bollocks of finance. perhaps splice the mother tongue forge the limbs and prettyness of neutrality
for chance by fucking limb to limb groin to groin lost in a thousand skies a penis of landscape
I have no use for words they are not as full as feelings nor as studied as muscle in fact i have no time owns words the tongue to touch the plate the heart to fill the psychomotor to impede classical form
in (i've been drinking again - notice the strain on the analytic faculties) the sounds that prevent my art from functioning
you have schizophrenia with everglades of munchausens with dappled shades of learning difficulties by proxy inability to measure crime adequately morality is tape measure and petunias belt the sucks of leeches surreality is adequate treatment for the homeless condition per se honette homme being one of a refusal to accept benefits or dysfunctional accomodation otherwise we no give u none me son read protocol surrounding mythology
Cornish gloves I'm really going to town saying something against a back drop off phase shift noise off fuck off gleen
the remedy of dada is adequate provision to subscribe vertical to u a church house a karma krud Jimmy Page plays guitar major bauhaus to vorticism to erudite shit in a can bang bang-fuck etre-sex-etre-wank-etre-freud-error literature-slip-who?-Baudrillard- no you know woshisname levi strauss-no-you-know-'im-y'know-er-aw-you-know-Dr.Barnardo-no-french-chap-point-neuf-Oh-Jean-Paul-Gautier-non non non oh-bollocks-Oh yer mean Derrida - oui monsieur-but is he the real one captain tim to persephone footballers singing pop songs reveals the breakage of deconstructionism or the leakage of the slippage into(wards) the pars(onage) of the **faustian dislogic intrinsicity (sic) to piety revealing titty (page 23) or pathos (human condition in machines) twa (aristotlian maladaptation)
actions speek louders tha' words ladders are more wordy than speckles speekles are the orwellesque colloquial twang of the internet off line and gis you tongue da rest
of course, and without authority (petty/pity/putty/pliet/pushy/shark/avant-garde/dark/ink-blot-test/matter of hands/bharatanatyam) my tea awaits me lavish green solidadis leaves a sprinkle of teeth my fathers dentures smoking guns i ciggarette to lace the twain twixt and avarice of time putting demands on my breaks
November city the sun sets at three o'clock i feel the need for romanticism but winter throws blow jobs to the cardy pigeon the business wedge of ethics in trucks blessed by hands that off swimming regionalise the voluntary sector leadership to munchausens specification did yer take your medication the dark nights studied and muted chance the bored trucks skidding lights to find somewhat similar to poetry in the tapestry of images corporeal and quite intangible this mind and body seperation
I release something personal thro' a mobile phone perhaps the most intimate thing i've eva sed down the machinary of objectification the nurture of defeminisation the boldest love i eva had through pixels in a text message broken by disjointed signal i don't expect to meet you i don't expect i eva will your picture perfect or your picture is perfect do you have a webcam we can make out on line?
November city the sun sleeps at dawn the moon (an arse) draws ever closer as a shimmery wind trace, ecriture, downs syndrome, pear shape so i left. We should use words like parse and flow and touch, perhaps tether apparency, motion, body, chance shimmy this side of town (ghost) metaphors are things the statue of a centurian now a visionary cuts the cold like a shadow knife an appeture in the star light
our light is verse bodily tongued and phonetic speach fucking raw and gentle. To lose it now would be too soon. Too soon for chance to play its wild card frantic we must suffer to know bliss we must suffer to parse the coquette of misinformation the cock of money the bollocks of finance. perhaps splice the mother tongue forge the limbs and prettyness of neutrality
for chance by fucking limb to limb groin to groin lost in a thousand skies a penis of landscape
Folds of Her Rose-- a vision
Once I saw Her wearing ashort jacket
and no clothing
(though she did
know/think she
knew-- modesty
she could not help
her exhibtion
istic
streak.
)
THEY (all of them)
whisper when she passes
and then fuck their wives
with visions of Her&sand
on their cinematic eyelids.
9 Nov 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (48)
Some synergy is merely yeast. I have the numbers to prove commitments, rendering one growth likely to propel a next. The situation comedy that's least affordable is down time. Many mangers filled with prospects fail their first exams. Abstruse intentions pump prerequisites. Each diamond is comprised of chips bearing resemblance to chip seal. Frost aligned with glimmer thought equivalent to worth confuses hypothetical discussion. By now the field is filled with discussants who would like to close the deal. The necessary prose is left off scales. That means resentment is a safe enough detail to mask what fuels a deeper level argument. A yard sale might approximate a century. Or informal innocence. Why not convene this congregation in a shelter? Any covering will do, despite the temperature these days. Most of the participants will dress in white. And lawn light will have shaped the way each conversation sings its way into the psyche. Back and forth go dreams until they're spun into imparted speech that makes its way toward fact.
8 Nov 2006
the curse of the baba yaga, H = aWG
jawohl herr president
happiness ist
a warm gun
<concatenate> <jessica fresh> & <Dr. Strangelove>
happiness ist
a warm gun
<concatenate> <jessica fresh> & <Dr. Strangelove>
7 Nov 2006
4 Nov 2006
2 Nov 2006
1 Nov 2006
28 Oct 2006
from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (47)
having claimed endorphins, now I revel in
endorphins, now that the endorphins
have come home to hide my sadness
all the sadness has gone in,
all pleasure is rehearsing
each rehearsal has gone well
and in mid-daylight every molecule
comes forth and fingers the indicatives
along the path my sadness, swollen only yesterday,
goes quiet every time I find it
having let endorphins be released
I know now patches of the sun
open to tips of light collected
in the act of sun
where all my sadness has gone flat
symphonic bliss comes naturally
the lithe tones limber as a trill
repeat themselves in character
respond to newfound selves
each one myself each happiness a mist
that softens sunlight whose own sunshine kin
lives breathfully
and even silence in the rest zone
laces figures of new speech
I claim to have allowed in with endorphins
having learned release
endorphins, now that the endorphins
have come home to hide my sadness
all the sadness has gone in,
all pleasure is rehearsing
each rehearsal has gone well
and in mid-daylight every molecule
comes forth and fingers the indicatives
along the path my sadness, swollen only yesterday,
goes quiet every time I find it
having let endorphins be released
I know now patches of the sun
open to tips of light collected
in the act of sun
where all my sadness has gone flat
symphonic bliss comes naturally
the lithe tones limber as a trill
repeat themselves in character
respond to newfound selves
each one myself each happiness a mist
that softens sunlight whose own sunshine kin
lives breathfully
and even silence in the rest zone
laces figures of new speech
I claim to have allowed in with endorphins
having learned release
rhetor (terror stammer 23)
(editor out (mendicants ' carne impends personality?"
confusion doctoring the upswing opens proximity carne gradation undoer down hands sodium '
airbrush interference
leg vitalizer cornu in toes
night[ie] biddy ///.fir.mly / flattened
attached >>>>> the unicef useless flat out cycle diadem
pas.s.ion //the personality*( th
giddy wouldn't anymore
," soci round'd & it's
negative (colder) impends tabulator linked "slept ok cathodic protractor"
eye compass threaded through, skin edit needle quilt
protractor
protractor
mendicants
peaked prayer-stool in crimson; the slant-snapped not.o_chord
27 Oct 2006
.jpg)
26 Oct 2006
24 Oct 2006
2nd second <> video clip
that
second second
knowledge cringed in
merely freckling ignorance
next second
after
This hay(na)ku was posted by me last year on as/is, so in that perspective it's a reprise.
The new aspect is an experiment with a text to speech processor. I fed this t2s processor with the poem and added some images.
second second
knowledge cringed in
merely freckling ignorance
next second
after
This hay(na)ku was posted by me last year on as/is, so in that perspective it's a reprise.
The new aspect is an experiment with a text to speech processor. I fed this t2s processor with the poem and added some images.
23 Oct 2006
curse of the baba yaga, ak 47
a machine gun
gives more
bang
<concatenate>
fresh storm of petals & manga neon
gives more
bang
<concatenate>
fresh storm of petals & manga neon
22 Oct 2006
21 Oct 2006
20 Oct 2006
No title [aleatoric type]
Boris bacchus laureate soiree,
neutralis
shines out of your behind-pathogenesis
unblemished initiative,
idee fix it'sSurgery
gicalshe is anima too domini
literal e've set sail a thousand words
a little lifeDoppler Cool. Sort itshift
moulina little deaththe
tooth]it verseDirect 4 Uwound
imbibed on forehead,You.
W dejeunerI'm just like all the others
[imitative]Vous-mangez a chansonsashay
doppelganger you want Menage a trois
to sleep with my wife?
One TwoYou want them?
ASBOSasha is patholo
We'll finish at the finluncheon fish feel
fish thinkfish talk pantheonrougethe sunle
petite you [to Birth.
19 Oct 2006
no title
Boris bacchus laureate
soiree, sashay doppelganger domini
you want to sleep with my wife?
Cool. Sort it
Menage a trois. One Two
You want them? ASBO
luncheon fish feel fish think
fish talk pantheon
Doppler shift moulin rouge
the sun shines out of your behind
le petite dejeuner
I'm just like you [to the tooth]
neutralis-pathogenesis
unblemished initiative,
idee fix it's all the others [imitative]
Vous-mangez a chanson
Sasha is pathological
she is anima too literal
Surgery Direct 4 U
wound imbibed on forehead,
You. We've set sail a thousand words
a little life
a little death
We'll finish at the finit verse
Birth.
soiree, sashay doppelganger domini
you want to sleep with my wife?
Cool. Sort it
Menage a trois. One Two
You want them? ASBO
luncheon fish feel fish think
fish talk pantheon
Doppler shift moulin rouge
the sun shines out of your behind
le petite dejeuner
I'm just like you [to the tooth]
neutralis-pathogenesis
unblemished initiative,
idee fix it's all the others [imitative]
Vous-mangez a chanson
Sasha is pathological
she is anima too literal
Surgery Direct 4 U
wound imbibed on forehead,
You. We've set sail a thousand words
a little life
a little death
We'll finish at the finit verse
Birth.
.jpg)
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