30 Nov 2006

The Ghost Inside (MachineGunBang/Crescent)

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

Yesterdays Collage (MachineGunBang)

26 Nov 2006


is what
happens when sunlight

occupies the th/ought
of heart:

become one
with each other

I never moonlight
anymore because

without bothering
to explain in

words that only
complicate the

to all
the sounds here

she tells me
so I

machine, cars
passing, hum of

electric lighting although
not needed

I arrive
to speak centuries

her eidetic recollection
providing renditions

hear my
stories told back

to me: I
learn them

salt lamp
some orange, some

gray, gives warmth
as well

the quiet
compares well with

time together there
her office

moment wanted
to last constantly

Jem - Dark (Jem Black/Crescent)

25 Nov 2006

Creative Commons


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 :-)


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
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

20 Nov 2006

words circles

I have no need for words
I have no idea what they are
I tell them that they're
and they chase me down the highways
to refuse their

meanings, they insist they are
a refuge from americanisation
western academicism
the feminist tradition

need me, not even
Noam Chomsky can help over
literal, literally
something more physical

them with sound "you are
just a manifestation of
rhythm and meter a fluctuation
of my breath"
they wind

with reasons why I
am so aliterary. And when
my stomachs fed and
I'm reading the television
another city

by Einstein's appalling legacy
Now humour weighs our
anxious position
anchored by co-ordinate

ve lethargy to blame
for reasoned contradiction
obstinate and unwilling
for a wordless world
of dancing men
even when

15 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

Venetian Images: Explored

Folds of Her Rose-- a vision

Once I saw Her wearing a
short jacket
and no clothing
(though she did
know/think she
knew-- modesty
she could not help
her exhibtion




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


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
happiness is a warm gun; ©Dreaming in Neon 2006

<concatenate> <jessica fresh> & <Dr. Strangelove>

7 Nov 2006