2 years


 Jill's wearing a dirndl! whirls around the ferris!


yes terday i was thinking it's two years since, May , since 2 years of May,

  yesterday, and today I'm thinking what?


the long torture of summer's begun '

__________ Does Franny have frills Jill  holy orders and gods? WEll Mona knows better hold my fictions forth.



t ell me


  tell me about your books,

     show me your  _________ and i will tell you more by and bye   ~ a buy for you and her an me~
a  bye-bye for two to keep three company

 greedy insuffereable oedipal pal who whoreships women yets afraid fotheir lips, bodies, minds, rays, crushes, trhroate sores, non beeings mistake,putty, thorn,

 Says it all and nor so    ~   .



that was


that is your day with a dollar and a woman you're in love and the train are
   the night hawk whirry the ring over the heeled ceiling is fraught with

the cello compares no raison d'etre in this particular patting down
the prison cells at night are not quiet and the gaoler stalks the hall

~ that's all dumb! Jill has the pleads and pad of proof it's writ large in her sun, we'll waste no time with that bull!

And her fair son and mine, a look alike in Ireland sandy mount bay and the rugged stallions
 (Mona's a believer with tickled pinks between she's geology 107 incorporated tilled the cracked landgrab)

the other peeler the perambulators and 'theory of spike tinder woood'
                                  Gretel in the wood as the fairer form won,



the traffic the trade routes ..


 the traffic  the trade routes in poetry never end , it's a marketing ploy what pulls eternity by the neck into the sea

railing against the night creating new mediums speaking 'speaking' to you from eternity,
 your breasts which i never kissed, these hearts of soul, gold, roaring, the birds sing, twitter, hold forth courts and cameras, ringing the bells in of a summer's eve,
  and the trade never ends,

 a track peeling off into a forest turning around a corner a new medium spooked by the remittances of old,

 but you must go on,

continue, forsook, forsooth,
         but not worried by this tempera of the old designs, the old guard,
 and its a ringside seat
       for the replete the defeat the incomplete works of your collected Unconscious Printed or Otherwise Known as your love,

hemming in out ward, the long hallward rain,

                 not the flood, either yet  another apparent rainbow rugging the closest forest of enigma drills and not forestry by any other name

and your body, which i missed,

 this narrative aloof and gulp,

 is that word ? Canadian a passive gender to rope all the country palisades,

----------------         (to be recontinued as always )  _______________



: re :as for hell_ heaven


Re: re :as for hell    
                           heaven would have been kissing your lips
                                           seeing your eyes
                                              close up a movie idol's smile a larger than life gaze looming at me
                                                out my bed room                               my room in the tiny sky
________________________ or your  hand s crossed around mine

_____________________   or our thighs
                                                                       or other cuts in this movie of you and me
                                                         but aren't movies dangerous?wish fantasies 10c a pop?

                                             Mr and Mrs Freud drop in for a visit a way of life is speaking love across the boarding oceans,   love in the flood,
                                                                           love in context love out of , love in and out of context,

                                                            love in             love-in,  a  love-in,

                                                                        hearts beating in breaking patterns
                            between nether lips of the sky
                                           which is beaming beaming forever beaming
                                                        and your body,


re :as for hell


Re         'and the only hello's going to end is when
  universal socialism comes to dominate all of human affairs,'

what does that mean universal socialism comes to dominate all of human affairs?  is that a fantasy, a vision of human peace flowing
               from bridge to bridge bird cage to bird cage? an end to universal prostitution and the beginning of universal innocence?

Yes yes yes that's it' tht's exactly what it means  .  it means freedom to     move and breath
                      having more than one address and
                 no more queens or dukes no presidents

                                     neither vice president nor vice
         nor classes
                     no wealthy nor wealthy versus you in your small apartment
                   and your broken teeth
                                       and your lonesome broken heart
                      isolated by the deliberate social forces

          which cut you off ,
                                    leaving your hanging


                                                                     and more of course so much more  ....                                                              .



because poetry..

oetry is  a way of life,

 because  poetry is  a way of life, 

 because  poetry is  a way of life, 

 and there was found language on their tongues of fire

on the floundering void,

                notes were taken boats were shipped, hearts boarded, waystations named,

                   and the smouldering fires lit,



as for hell


as for hell you ask well, only those who want to go there  go ,

  hell is not other people hell is not other people,
            hell is the infinite all by yourself

                         with others, like Hr, (stuck in that company forever)

                           and 'individuals' of that kind

condemned from all eternity to hatred of life and self,
                    that is hell,   and it's real, ask Rimbaud,

           not other people nor the enemies of the state
       but the state of being wrought by the haters of life whatever form they be,
   and it's not

                                                                                and the only hello's going to end is when
  universal socialism comes to dominate all of human affairs,


is the 'the marine (yes shes a marine!) 'Le pen' mightier than the Macron? hahah what a bunch of jerks they both are.. Pathetic arseholes, &meantime in merry olde terresa May dumbarse England they are droning on about some Duke at 95 'retiring from his duties' god our hearts are stuffed full of putty and love they say is forever, my border is your Order my lady O Duke my sir , can you please kiss my ass,? and the borders built by those who hold power kicking down as always their 'lessers' and the uglys squabble goes on a long history of taking from those who have more gifts more talent stealing from the poor the poor who you have with you always..


there will always been an england Hohohoohoo.
and the terrible term of a dumb empire and dumber commonwealth ending,



More on the Macron .. and his phony bullshit


This is all total bullshit — he is a former investment banker and the absolute embodiment of neoliberal politics. I cannot think of anyone more vacuous and technocratic.

He is the smirking face of austerity, privatization,

poverty…He is despicable. But because Fillon’s campaign was floundering and the SP was in shambles, a lot of people coalesced around Macron. The representatives of the extreme center, but also people who felt alienated by the current state of French politics.


Will there be poetry?


  Will there be poetry after life? 

                              After life is poetry


How about this world and that world, transcendence versus immanence ?

                                  t he next life, or the life after this one,
                                                where breathing 's not breathing as we know it

                           but swinging flying moving one thought form to the next

               across the planes of your body, and thought,

                                                                        the next life is this life continued,
                  and better

                                        but better 

                                                               and your bones won't you no more

                                                and you'll feel loved all the time,

 that's poetry, t hat's immanence,


'in the interim ...


   ' in the interim pray for peace for that maniac might start www3 with North Korea and blame
          it all on them
                                and bringing untold suffering to the people of the Far East which is
                                        only far East to our far West insanity,

 & how quickly and easily those millions will become the world's millions
                   and the West's millions,

                              and all of us millions, d ead ,

                                                          but not eternity,
                         eternity won't be dead
                                                    Mister Dumptruck tyrant,
                                                    eternity wont be dead you jackasses
                                                    &yr cruise missiles and mad violent toys
                                                          threatening the whole world,

                                                           eternity won'tbe dead but you will be,
                                                  Mistery Tyrant with your wars and galores,



"it would not have worked...'


   Just like you and me, eh~ It wouldn't have worked  ~   elections, erections, lover fair andunfair,
                    __________________ worked? would it have worked? eh, shrugs shoulder
                                Mister and Mrs. Love had no idea to see what was coming around the bend,
                                                                                               he the Middle the Middle!
                                                      we ought to say in the middle
                                              she's breaking the phone in her hand, squeezing it so hard,
                                                                ------------------ worked not worked,a  working class district,
                                                                   a workiing class  work, a real work, not a fiction,
                                                 eh, tout monde était prix a la gorge,
                                                       ah, l'amour, l'amour sans avions, sans passport,
                           sans levres, sans this sans that, eh,
                                                                       it would not have worked,  what's work
                                                 for a working class man and woman,
                              what's work in  the bedlam world, eh?

                                                                                              ça marche?
                                                                             ça marche pas?
                                                                       elle m'aime elle m'aime pas,
                                                                      ça marche?

                                                                                c’est le marche des avions et des amants,

                                                         C 'est quoi? - l’éternité. C'est la mer allée  avec le soleil. 


'Nothing happened as expected '


'Nothing happened as expected' and guess what? it's Not over Yet!  stay tuned
  for your electorial world theatre elections updates eh!


' Let’s lose interest in elections, once and for all!

Let’s lose interest in elections, once and for all!

By Alain Badiou / 28 April 2017

This text by Alain Badiou first appeared on the Mediapart blog. Translated by David Broder.

I understand the bitterness of those remonstrating after the first round of the elections, particularly those left disappointed by Mélenchonism. That said, whatever they do, or say, there was no particular aberration, no swindle, in this vote.

In fact, there were but two anomalies of parties, which have sadly (for the actually-existing powers) decomposed the central parliamentary bloc. This bloc is composed of the classic Left and Right. For forty years — or even two centuries — this bloc has backed the roll-out of the local capitalism. Yet the outgoing local representative of the so-called Left, Hollande, did not stand again, and this broke up his party. On the other hand, there is the classical Right. Thanks to its rather ill-fated primaries it did not choose its best old horse, Alain Juppé, but a provincial bourgeois of sorry countenance, too remote from the "societal" delights of modern capitalism.

The "normal" second round would have been Hollande vs. Juppé, or at worst Le Pen vs. Juppé, with Juppé easily winning in either case. In the absence of the two decomposed parties of government, our true masters for two centuries — the owners and managers of capital — were struggling a little. Fortunately (for them), together with their usual political personnel, the old veterans of reaction and of course the aid of the residues of social democracy (Valls, Le Drian, Ségolène Royal and company) they cobbled together a presentable substitute for a central parliamentary bloc that was dying without heirs. And that substitute was Emmanuel Macron. Very usefully, and very importantly for the future, they also rallied François Bayrou to their cause — that experienced old centrist sage, the man of all electoral wars, including the most difficult. All this was done with some panache, and in record time. Ultimate success was practically guaranteed.

In these conditions — which are entirely possible to explain — the vote confirmed more clearly than usual that the pro-capitalist and rightist subjectivity, including in its rather fascistoid forms, has an absolute majority in the country.

Part of the intellectuals and part of the youth refuse to see this, or bitterly regret it. But what is this? Do these lovers of democratic elections want someone to change who the people voting are, like you change a dirty shirt? Those who vote must consent to the majority wish, all the same!  In truth, these two groups measure the world by the yardstick of their own situation and their own dreams, without drawing the necessary conclusion: that there is absolutely nothing to expect from the word "democratic."

Already in 1850 Napoleon III saw that universal suffrage was not the horror that the bien-pensant bourgeoisie had imagined it to be, but a true blessing, an unexpected and precious legitimation of reactionary powers. That is still true today, everywhere around the world. Napoleon’s heir had understood that in more or less normal and stable historical conditions, the bulk of numbers is always fundamentally conservative.

Let us conclude with some calm. Hysterically working up election results leads to nothing but a worthless depression. Let us get used to it: there will never be a deathblow against our present servitude without — and this is as far as things could be from electoral rituals — the historic tying-together of four factors:

1) A situation of historic instability, which overwhelms conservative subjectivities. Alas, such a situation would very probably be a war, as was the case for the Paris Commune in 1871, the Russian Revolution in 1917 and the Chinese Revolution between 1937 and 1947.

2) A strongly established ideological division — naturally, first of all among intellectuals, but ultimately among the broad masses themselves — over the fact that there are two paths and not just one. Over the fact that the whole space of political thinking must structure itself around the antagonistic contradiction between capitalism and communism, or this or that of the equivalents of this contradiction. In passing I will remind readers of the principles of this second path: the establishment of collective forms of managing the means of production, credit and exchange, as against private property; the polymorphism of labour, which is especially undermined by the division between its manual and intellectual forms; a consistent internationalism; and forms of popular rule working toward the end of any separate state.

3) A popular rising — certainly, as always, a minority one, but one which does at least set state power in suspense. Such a rising is often linked to point 1.

4) A robust organisation capable of proposing an active synthesis of the three first points, directed at its enemies’ collapse and — as fast as possible — the implementation of the constitutive elements of the second, communist path, such as I mentioned above.

Two of these four points — numbers 1 and 3 — depend on the conjuncture. But we can actively work on point 2 right away. And this is an utterly crucial point. We can also work on point 4, especially by supporting — also in light of point 2 — joint meetings and actions among both a section of the intellectuals and the proletariat in three of its forms: active workers and low-ranking state employees; the working-class families hit hard and demoralised by the frenetic deindustrialisation of France these last three decades; and the nomad proletariat of African, Middle-Eastern or Asian provenance.

Getting hysterical about election results, in a both depressing and declamatory fashion, is not only useless, but harmful. It is to take a position on enemy terrain, helpless and with no solution. We must become indifferent to elections, which at most correspond to a purely tactical choice between abstaining from playing in this "democratic" fiction, or else supporting this or that competitor for conjunctural reasons, which we define precisely within the framework of communist politics, otherwise foreign to the rituals of state power. We must devote our always precious time to our true political toil. And this latter must be inscribed within the four points listed above.

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