curse of which reality planes intersect
the baba yaga is more real in that world
transient manga based on an image by
Tim Gaze
prelude to the curse of the baba yaga
the Q cyber
curse of which reality planes intersect
the baba yaga is more real in that world
transient manga based on an image by
Tim Gaze
curse of which reality planes intersect
the baba yaga is more real in that world
transient manga based on an image by
Tim Gaze
from The Pretty Redhead by Apollinaire
Here I am in front of all, a man full of sense
Knowing of life and death only what a living man can
Having experienced the pains and joys of love
Having sometimes been able to get my ideas across
Knowing several languages
Having travelled quite a bit [...]
I know of old and new as much as one man could possibly know
Translation by T.Sidoli.
Knowing of life and death only what a living man can
Having experienced the pains and joys of love
Having sometimes been able to get my ideas across
Knowing several languages
Having travelled quite a bit [...]
I know of old and new as much as one man could possibly know
Translation by T.Sidoli.
The New Quest of the Dark Tower
Oh I have known this, your sky bleeding smoke, forever.
No guarantees were offered by yesterday’s newspaper
whispering against the curb this morning when the sky
was lilac and windless, threaded with silent crows.
No guarantees were offered, childe-hero
in the wasteland of tomorrow’s sale windows
in the sterile dance of the mannequins
posing frozen, announcing the change of seasons.
Plate-glass shivered at the sound of your horn
but this isn’t Jericho. We need a different way in
to the city’s hearts. We need doors with fun-house mirrors
that see around corners. We need a flight of crows for raucous augury.
You have known this forever. The shadow under the porch light.
The furtive movement behind the hedge. Laughter from passing cars.
The smell of death under the kitchen sink. This is your heritage:
the weight at the bottom of your backpack
the brown stain drying on the heel of your shoe
the criss-cross tracks on the sidewalk. No animal guide.
You’re on your own in the frozen maze of the walls of the city
lined with carnival mirrors.
I have known this forever: no-one’s exempt from being a hero.
No city without a desert and a dark tower.
Questing yesterday, questing tomorrow and always questing today—
a movable feast, spread at your feet every lilac dawn.
Left to be gnawed by rats among the litter
of yesterday’s news and tomorrow’s sales.
The piper offers cut-rate extermination, but no guarantee
unless you pay in full. Make no bargains.
Learn to play the music of the crows on your horn.
Look in the shivering mirrors for someone else’s face,
your face, stretched around a corner.
Your eyes, bleeding smoke. Your eyes full of lilacs.
Tomorrow’s for sale, but you have to pay today.
There are no guarantees. There’s no new news.
We’ve known this story forever.
No guarantees were offered by yesterday’s newspaper
whispering against the curb this morning when the sky
was lilac and windless, threaded with silent crows.
No guarantees were offered, childe-hero
in the wasteland of tomorrow’s sale windows
in the sterile dance of the mannequins
posing frozen, announcing the change of seasons.
Plate-glass shivered at the sound of your horn
but this isn’t Jericho. We need a different way in
to the city’s hearts. We need doors with fun-house mirrors
that see around corners. We need a flight of crows for raucous augury.
You have known this forever. The shadow under the porch light.
The furtive movement behind the hedge. Laughter from passing cars.
The smell of death under the kitchen sink. This is your heritage:
the weight at the bottom of your backpack
the brown stain drying on the heel of your shoe
the criss-cross tracks on the sidewalk. No animal guide.
You’re on your own in the frozen maze of the walls of the city
lined with carnival mirrors.
I have known this forever: no-one’s exempt from being a hero.
No city without a desert and a dark tower.
Questing yesterday, questing tomorrow and always questing today—
a movable feast, spread at your feet every lilac dawn.
Left to be gnawed by rats among the litter
of yesterday’s news and tomorrow’s sales.
The piper offers cut-rate extermination, but no guarantee
unless you pay in full. Make no bargains.
Learn to play the music of the crows on your horn.
Look in the shivering mirrors for someone else’s face,
your face, stretched around a corner.
Your eyes, bleeding smoke. Your eyes full of lilacs.
Tomorrow’s for sale, but you have to pay today.
There are no guarantees. There’s no new news.
We’ve known this story forever.
19910929
promenade d'un dimanche après-midi pluvieux
entre des rues désertes vers
des places de cafés
parapluie assis sous une table
un homme assis à une table
à la périphérie d'une terrace de café
loin des conversations d'aventures de samedi
soir, espresso commandé pendant roulage de cigarette
particules de fumée, d'air mélangées
.
entre des rues désertes vers
des places de cafés
parapluie assis sous une table
un homme assis à une table
à la périphérie d'une terrace de café
loin des conversations d'aventures de samedi
soir, espresso commandé pendant roulage de cigarette
particules de fumée, d'air mélangées
.
Shades of Grey
Ice-cold concrete feels so good, makes me feel so alive right there on the ledge, the ledge twenty feet high, nestled by the sky and the asphalt, aglow with diamonds reaches out and upward, whispering of its magnificence, how it will present me with a finite solution.
Cars, trucks and yellow taxis form neat compact rows. Wish they'd spread out, make way for the haggard piece of shit, my body, the bane of my existence that's played tug-o-war countless times. Lots like the mottled grey seagull flying past, casting me a white-grey glance as though I don't exist. It knows, it tugs the rope of wriggly worms, carping away at its colleagues.
'It's mine, fuck you!'
My life yes it is and it flies past, in the scope of the millennia, faster than the C in Einstein's equation. Toey, twitchy…
Jump.
villanelle
and still i rise
and drag myself through the bleak streets
i cannot do otherwise
in dumb surprise
i mark the course of fresh defeats
and still i rise
in war-crazed eyes
i catch what my contempt completes
i cannot do otherwise
the seasons vandalize
and foolishness repeats
and still i rise
this blood money buys
such rich cheats
i cannot do otherwise
the beauty of burnt skies
advances, then at night retreats
and still i rise
i cannot do otherwise
and drag myself through the bleak streets
i cannot do otherwise
in dumb surprise
i mark the course of fresh defeats
and still i rise
in war-crazed eyes
i catch what my contempt completes
i cannot do otherwise
the seasons vandalize
and foolishness repeats
and still i rise
this blood money buys
such rich cheats
i cannot do otherwise
the beauty of burnt skies
advances, then at night retreats
and still i rise
i cannot do otherwise
every sufI heart
keepyer brain high. do not pass. go. dome to brie. open.edge of thing. buck sinta_x . way to come. t'a go. not so. orIent spooF. lets all get up and dance to a song that was a hit before your mother was born. you do not control poetry remember that. You do not. ControL. it. No matter. You do Not ConRoll poesy
Iraqui Musicans circa 1916 __ dig it. One night in Baghdada makes a hard man humble. Dig, the cafe. the veil of beauty of beauty of beauty. peering past her eye.
she wear the instrument of of of of and she .look
carefful woman in centre is my greatgreatgrandmother. she married tristan tzara in paris. left him go back to Iraq play music. dig. so all thing.turn in circle
we was dere in Baghadada wen to hear Music and one she got arrest. she saig. it was not bagd. to blay busiC in the BjAil. she went. To calLL DBabdada and he was. In CommUniStParty In BaRiS. kanwan ma kan. was not and was.
--
Iraqui Musicans circa 1916 __ dig it. One night in Baghdada makes a hard man humble. Dig, the cafe. the veil of beauty of beauty of beauty. peering past her eye.
she wear the instrument of of of of and she .look
carefful woman in centre is my greatgreatgrandmother. she married tristan tzara in paris. left him go back to Iraq play music. dig. so all thing.turn in circle
we was dere in Baghadada wen to hear Music and one she got arrest. she saig. it was not bagd. to blay busiC in the BjAil. she went. To calLL DBabdada and he was. In CommUniStParty In BaRiS. kanwan ma kan. was not and was.
--
Roaring Bake-studs of Anger
Artup and the great blow of anger felt his fury at my neck. He was holy and had the hold of all angry fellowships at my breast. He was hanging on for dear life and all of his foil studs that pushed and berated were up there in that hanging forest of my head. I was scrimmage and pulppupatebutterflywormangrything and now I am tryingtrying to rebuild the negative images of filigree wings that I have in my head. Trying to think of beauty and how I am not a waste of imaginary dreams.
Ah, the betterloveadream moment. You had better love a dream. You had. You did. Did you? A dream. Had you loveadream moments in your head? Had you loveadreamdidyouloveadreamanddidyou?
The foil edges of dreams are easily ripped in two. The mare hides his head and breathes slowly into the grass. I climb onto his back and ride away. Two distances. One fur along. Hang onto manes and describe journies into wet forests. Saddle-back and under branches. Hot flanks of longing. Weightless edges of air. Two thousand seconds of dark, muscular aches.
Wonderful longing. It canters on. I try to catch up with mossy futures.
Ah, the betterloveadream moment. You had better love a dream. You had. You did. Did you? A dream. Had you loveadream moments in your head? Had you loveadreamdidyouloveadreamanddidyou?
The foil edges of dreams are easily ripped in two. The mare hides his head and breathes slowly into the grass. I climb onto his back and ride away. Two distances. One fur along. Hang onto manes and describe journies into wet forests. Saddle-back and under branches. Hot flanks of longing. Weightless edges of air. Two thousand seconds of dark, muscular aches.
Wonderful longing. It canters on. I try to catch up with mossy futures.
Two cloud bramble spec
The red of cloud-bramble,
Where I used to go,
Torn and asunderMoses'Biblewon'tletmegothere anymore.
The whip of red grass-slash,
The torn legs of insects,
The snorting black-hole of nostril flare.
It is all gone now.
I stand amongst the cloud-brambles,
The blackberry stains amidst my smiling breaths,
It is all a faint midst-block of the beating parts of gates.
The lock of gates is harder to bear than any darkling thrush.
That bird died long ago,
At the beginning of a new century of sadness.
The mechanised throb of a stinging lice-nip.
The rob of moments.
The moment of sixty minutes,
Amongst ashy-crumbs of soil.
Wet-footed steps,
Back to nowhere.
Where I used to go,
Torn and asunderMoses'Biblewon'tletmegothere anymore.
The whip of red grass-slash,
The torn legs of insects,
The snorting black-hole of nostril flare.
It is all gone now.
I stand amongst the cloud-brambles,
The blackberry stains amidst my smiling breaths,
It is all a faint midst-block of the beating parts of gates.
The lock of gates is harder to bear than any darkling thrush.
That bird died long ago,
At the beginning of a new century of sadness.
The mechanised throb of a stinging lice-nip.
The rob of moments.
The moment of sixty minutes,
Amongst ashy-crumbs of soil.
Wet-footed steps,
Back to nowhere.
Art&Education Keywords: no pain no gain, breakdown, stoppage, malfunction, crash, collapse, fiasco, letdown, its such a cliché, can I
speak to the manager?, disappointment, disenchantment, disillusionment, deprivation, loss, social democracy, euphemisms,
bitterness, real-politic, good intentions, preaching to the choir, bad news, tough luck, too bad, misery, malaise,
ennui, it'll pass, can't get any worse, the show must go on, silver-lining, too many cooks, world weariness, regret,
guilt, shame, swamp, muddling through, non-event, anti-climax, amnesia, its not the same anymore, character building
experience, failure as an option, faux-pas, blunder, resignation, embarrassment, hangover, lose/lose, whatever, pyrrhic
victory, envy, obsolescence, tautologies, flops, bankruptcy, told you so, it wasn't my idea, nice try, you are too
sensitive, white elephant, elephant in the room, submission, sellout, compromise, commodification, globalization,
surrender, retreat, concession, deconstructi on, I don't want to talk about it, I knew this would happen, let me come
clear with you, access denied, this won't hurt a bit, talk is cheap, but you promised, just say no, institutional
critique, co-optation, preemptive strike, soft targets, collateral damage, friendly fire, the lesser evil, easier sad
than done, the party is over, urban failures, failures of nation states, failure of internationalism, martyrdom, better
sad than sorry, it's the thought that counts, retirement, victimization, sacrifice, bring it back, suicide, ideological
collapse, get well soon, you are so negative, art world defeatism, morning after, same old same old, moan fest, doom,
the eternal return, heartbreak, you've got problems, weltschmerz, delusions of grandeur, window dressing, cul-de-sac,
been there done that, self-help, if you only knew, charity, pity, burnout, running on empty, too little too late,
inferiority complex, over the hill, not knowing when to stop, knowing your place, implosion, no show, cancellation,
stand by, indefinite postponement, you are beginning to piss me off, I did not mean it, come on its only a show,
repentance, payback, I cant work like this, better luck next time, back to square one, can't help you, what did you
expect, we are going to have to let you go, you are telling me now, easy for you to say Kradstillgitptour when Ovoic the
hurmil clicletkeotir
speak to the manager?, disappointment, disenchantment, disillusionment, deprivation, loss, social democracy, euphemisms,
bitterness, real-politic, good intentions, preaching to the choir, bad news, tough luck, too bad, misery, malaise,
ennui, it'll pass, can't get any worse, the show must go on, silver-lining, too many cooks, world weariness, regret,
guilt, shame, swamp, muddling through, non-event, anti-climax, amnesia, its not the same anymore, character building
experience, failure as an option, faux-pas, blunder, resignation, embarrassment, hangover, lose/lose, whatever, pyrrhic
victory, envy, obsolescence, tautologies, flops, bankruptcy, told you so, it wasn't my idea, nice try, you are too
sensitive, white elephant, elephant in the room, submission, sellout, compromise, commodification, globalization,
surrender, retreat, concession, deconstructi on, I don't want to talk about it, I knew this would happen, let me come
clear with you, access denied, this won't hurt a bit, talk is cheap, but you promised, just say no, institutional
critique, co-optation, preemptive strike, soft targets, collateral damage, friendly fire, the lesser evil, easier sad
than done, the party is over, urban failures, failures of nation states, failure of internationalism, martyrdom, better
sad than sorry, it's the thought that counts, retirement, victimization, sacrifice, bring it back, suicide, ideological
collapse, get well soon, you are so negative, art world defeatism, morning after, same old same old, moan fest, doom,
the eternal return, heartbreak, you've got problems, weltschmerz, delusions of grandeur, window dressing, cul-de-sac,
been there done that, self-help, if you only knew, charity, pity, burnout, running on empty, too little too late,
inferiority complex, over the hill, not knowing when to stop, knowing your place, implosion, no show, cancellation,
stand by, indefinite postponement, you are beginning to piss me off, I did not mean it, come on its only a show,
repentance, payback, I cant work like this, better luck next time, back to square one, can't help you, what did you
expect, we are going to have to let you go, you are telling me now, easy for you to say Kradstillgitptour when Ovoic the
hurmil clicletkeotir
over the cliff (for cliff)
the moment of the word, compare
methods, the four of us, still no
cheque, aprote, the distances,
geniculate, original equipment
manufacturer, orange armature,
renminbi, katakana, escadas
rolantes, research to death,
dog lime, immanentalism,
ischiorectal, instantaneous
concrete, christian essentialism
from the haecceitas,
methods, the four of us, still no
cheque, aprote, the distances,
geniculate, original equipment
manufacturer, orange armature,
renminbi, katakana, escadas
rolantes, research to death,
dog lime, immanentalism,
ischiorectal, instantaneous
concrete, christian essentialism
from the haecceitas,
frag
mlin 480 dinar senta to novi sad
contract to prolong not possible
w/o prior commencement on the spot
on bulevar oslobodjenja, 155, around
smoki flips a bag of them b4 mojo
error 691: petak access denied
srednjovekovnog popodne eggs
garbage day showers overnight
ivo lola rosna livada streetnik
shiters w/o 15 in coin for toilet
behind tito’s fading blue train
slugfest snails and night crawlers
retro band . . . retro what/when?
nem izdajese nem komforan
compare and contrast “everything
sucks” graffiti in temerin salata
remembered from a conversation
fileti paprika and white lies
take tram 7 or 11 frisky pivo
ester no longer employed
dva meni and max duo today
spam baltik constipation haze
no headway lang contraption
old trout native or farmed
goats amongst the dumped
piles of deconstruction sites
helicopters overhead attempt
to intimidate but jedino don’t
contract to prolong not possible
w/o prior commencement on the spot
on bulevar oslobodjenja, 155, around
smoki flips a bag of them b4 mojo
error 691: petak access denied
srednjovekovnog popodne eggs
garbage day showers overnight
ivo lola rosna livada streetnik
shiters w/o 15 in coin for toilet
behind tito’s fading blue train
slugfest snails and night crawlers
retro band . . . retro what/when?
nem izdajese nem komforan
compare and contrast “everything
sucks” graffiti in temerin salata
remembered from a conversation
fileti paprika and white lies
take tram 7 or 11 frisky pivo
ester no longer employed
dva meni and max duo today
spam baltik constipation haze
no headway lang contraption
old trout native or farmed
goats amongst the dumped
piles of deconstruction sites
helicopters overhead attempt
to intimidate but jedino don’t
AFTERMATH
By the end of the day, the tree behind the house
will drop all of its leaves—pools gather beneath it now.
In this pile, you are fishing line: in this pile, I am nightfall and you
looking out to see it (somewhere has never been where you are).
I will lift this leaf from its place on the walk.
It has no special meaning, a handshake, really.
Your hands are simple tools.
We are the pieces inside them you are sprinkling into anthills.
The ends of my fingers are dreams.
I thought I should tell you that
in case you felt the tiny dollops
of their embrace.
will drop all of its leaves—pools gather beneath it now.
In this pile, you are fishing line: in this pile, I am nightfall and you
looking out to see it (somewhere has never been where you are).
I will lift this leaf from its place on the walk.
It has no special meaning, a handshake, really.
Your hands are simple tools.
We are the pieces inside them you are sprinkling into anthills.
The ends of my fingers are dreams.
I thought I should tell you that
in case you felt the tiny dollops
of their embrace.
Our Trip to Clinton,Massachusetts
please, we went in duo, shaded aptly, with guards of uttering green ceding to yellow, red, orange and aplomb. distance sapped a mention of memory from disparate landmarks, and we could only stay with the breast of sun in its slanting difference. what else would we do with the fullness of our directive? does love need a case to be made? like a leaf falling into plain water, we have the map to ourselves. our drift is perfect, less a crowd than a way to go to the shape of intent. we found a thing or two, and stay in the finding. we could not know more with each association of mile, dusting throughly thru the tendency to stay as we do. we have this intent position, curled into a warming cycle, while the earth itself reacts with mazes. the stars tell whistling stories when we wake for them, and gibbous moon is a boon of the passways. dream remains a lark that crowds morning with a form of delight. was it ever 1968 or other fabled dots? who can tell? music doesn't end, it curves. this curve initializes the place of standing, wet for a tear or two, and for examined thirst as well. we know that water mounts to nothing, water never mounts. we wait in fast colours, and go as fast as they do. trees delight us because they live each clock and then go around the bending as easily as snow in the offing. we saw the interstate as managed and combustible, thus we took its horse for a chancy stay. we noted little roads that striped the map with day after day. when we are two, the years are interested in declaring fault. when we are distances, the work endures. these forces combine into roads with the gorgeous emblem of trees to match our mood. when we are colours, light sends a bonus to the hills just for us. we can't nationalize Thailand anymore, try as we might, on this road or any other. we can't stray for the flowers that fall from the hills. we can't wait for the merger of industry with heart. we have a day in an autumn sun, distinct with purchase yet not bent by the claiming. do we see speed as affordable or just the vaguest point in the landscape? never to be controlled by that bossed function of separation, we stay with the fact that colour is a laden dainty, a crumb of loving wisdom for the spreading instant that we share.
i loathe your ironic moustache, you pretentious asshole of a prick.
buckets of water fall down upon me and wake me from this anaesthetized horror house of bliss.
somebody scream.
New (SCINTILATTNG!!) start to book
New (SCINTILATING!!) start to book
um... for John Stammers
by John Stiles
New (SCINTILLATIN`) start to the book, right? See
I HAD to do er (cause?) Well I had to do er cause I`m
trying to show I`ve still gotter. So, boy falls for girl gets
teased by brother, lives in shadow of overbearin mother,
Girl sings but things don`t go so good (might be losing it?
might not?, the usual, wha?) But the locals get to talkin`.
And so The Big Event: The Talent Show (and doesn`t little
missy pull er off?) With competition from the hometown glamour
Queen, everythin: fingers at the keys, expectant faces, OH!
What a lot of frettin' and fussin. Oh o o o! Write-up in the
local paper and then...a phone call from another boy... And
don`t his nibs get all worked up now gets panicky, A eee. A ai? Oh?
Who will start competing for her affections, now? Who will arrive
and make things MISERABLE for our hopeless fool? And
then, after all this, she goes and drowns. SHE DROWNS.
Micky Muck Mucky Muck. OH La La. And there`s a write-up
in the local paper and so the young ferr moves to where?
He moves to Toronto. T.Dot O. Torondo. But can he forget
her? Can he escape from her memory....
___________________John Stiles blog
um... for John Stammers
by John Stiles
New (SCINTILLATIN`) start to the book, right? See
I HAD to do er (cause?) Well I had to do er cause I`m
trying to show I`ve still gotter. So, boy falls for girl gets
teased by brother, lives in shadow of overbearin mother,
Girl sings but things don`t go so good (might be losing it?
might not?, the usual, wha?) But the locals get to talkin`.
And so The Big Event: The Talent Show (and doesn`t little
missy pull er off?) With competition from the hometown glamour
Queen, everythin: fingers at the keys, expectant faces, OH!
What a lot of frettin' and fussin. Oh o o o! Write-up in the
local paper and then...a phone call from another boy... And
don`t his nibs get all worked up now gets panicky, A eee. A ai? Oh?
Who will start competing for her affections, now? Who will arrive
and make things MISERABLE for our hopeless fool? And
then, after all this, she goes and drowns. SHE DROWNS.
Micky Muck Mucky Muck. OH La La. And there`s a write-up
in the local paper and so the young ferr moves to where?
He moves to Toronto. T.Dot O. Torondo. But can he forget
her? Can he escape from her memory....
___________________John Stiles blog
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