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2009/01/30

the last two days







the last two days _ weather broke ~ warm ~ compared to what we had previously.
almost a feel of spring in thee air ~
sky near 5 o'clock splash of colour orange mingled with washes of cerulean and red ~
walking with no hat ~ the beauty of it ~ look of relief on peoples' faces ....



yes a late January thaw ~
in this crazy planet of contradiction and paradox









I got a new translation of The Idiot _ a man named David McDuff. How funny that he and I share similar last names... It reads more easily, and some of his explanations of his version are chock a block with insights.... learning learning learning... one is always learning. I plan to look around at the various translations of all of Dostoevsky's works.

I 've decided to re-read all of his novels, and read the ones I've not read. His other works as well... one book at a time...

there was also a book I stumbled across aways back about how Dosoevskie uses quotation in his work, how he uses it in a dozen ways... this too...



of another Russian writer and poet Boris Pasternak

I came across this very touching moment of the poet and someone close to him, perhaps his wife? I don't know, and I don't know much about his life;
but this scene is moving ....the hurried affection with which she approaches this
beautiful slavic man ...
Iknow he lived in exile for a time, but luckily he was not a victim of the great purges of the old U.S.S. R . ~ this youtube inclusdes several other clips of Pasternak and other Russian poets.




___ the more I read Dostoevsky the more I... am wrapped up in the delicacy of his project ~ a genius reterritorializing lands of the relations between and beneath the formal ones of that period in Russian society and history. As well as appreciating more his ability to bring many styles to bear on the subjects he writes about.


Russia Russia Russia
dear beloved bear
grateful and grand
grandiose and guttersnipping

sweet and sour as the soups of camp.
after camp. train after train. Yet Siberian rain like
no other. Its swing and huffpuff of gruel. and candour.
cruel and mothering its husking nets of rhizome and weed.


One is never alone if one has a good books a good
book is company in the rain and solitude o f
~



its breath on the buoyant air of becoming ~





2009/01/28

reading

reading the Idiot _ Dostoevsky. which I started over ten years ago. and the hectic speed of this writer is sheer genius. the translation _ by constance someone or other is laboured.
in russia, they'd laugh at the gauchness of this rendering of expressive Russian. but no matter the woman, did what she did then, and I am grateful to have it.

Myshkin barely arrives to Russia and the whirlwhind of events begins. all the ingrediants of Karamazov and the Possesed are there as well. A hectic mad pace: a melodrama of life and death. A cutting inward shove into character.

( afew years back i attended a year long seminar on Dostoevsky) (the man who gave the seminar was a canadian who'd been going to russia since 84)

Apparently he wrote in Florcence, while doing what most artists and poets have to do: flee being a fleeing "debtor......:" except the tenured university ones, and these are hardly artists at all; I love Russian writers, and this book makes my head. spin. I have to read it in pieces. it was written with thousands of tensions builit into. it.


(russia in 86 - is notthe same as Russia 2004)
(but who has ever found russia)
(russian poets seek its soul daily)

(yes my eyes are goin strange again; barely a year since new glasses and... well
reading and writing will do that, eh? make one's eyes strain
of course. eye glass physicans are a class of their own money makers)

Pah _ yes, eyes, to see and hear(t).
(i fear milton m ight want revenge on me! for what i wrote about him!)
O eyes,
O seeing
O sight
O immanence of

Genet remarked that Dostoevsky who hated socialism was read by millions because of the Russian Revolution. Reversals brought on in reality and fiction.

Nietzsche, speaking of the Idiot, said that the novel portrayed his idea of Christ. Dostoevsky notably stated that if Christ was not God, he would choose Christ over god.
Neither he or Nietzsche could have imagined the hell Russians were to live inthe 20th century. the hell they lived, and that was unleashed by the forces that bear it. O good,
bear it, the Russian Bear. as always. the accident reveals.

Voila an excerpt of the Russian production of the complete novel:




"Russia, Telekanal Russia, 2003.
Drama.
The first complete film version of the Dostoyevsky's novel.
Count Myshkin returns to Russia from Switzerland where he underwent treatment at a mental hospital. On a train, he meets with Parfyon Rogozhin, who tells him of his passionate love to Nastasia Filippovna. Upon his arrival to St. Petersburg, the count introduces himself to his distant relative Mrs. Yepanchin, her husband General, their three daughters as well as to the General's secretary Ganya Ivolghin. The portrait of Nastasia Filippovna, the count sees at the Yepanchins, makes a great impression on him.
Awards: 2 wins.
Cast: Evgeny Mironov, Lidya Velezheva, Vladimir Mashkov, Aleksandr Lazarev-mladshy, Oleg Basilashvili, Inna Churikova, Olga Budina, Aleksandr Domogarov, Anastasya Melnikova, Boris Birman, Larisa Malevannaya, Mikhail Boyarsky, Aleksey Petrenko, Vladimir Iljin.
Director Vladimir Bortko."
you tuber editorial comment in quotes.via
russartcom

... who dances..,,.

I would only
believe in a god who dances

I would only believe in a God that knows how to dance.
Part I, Chapter 7, "Vom Lesen und Schreiben"/"On Reading and Writing"



If they want me to believe in their god,

they'll have to sing me better songs.....
I could only believe in a god who dances.

So Said Mister Nietzsche an d being
a wise man he danced
even as he
sauntered
sat
an d

swooned


this is a beautifully comic rendition of Nijinsky Or let us then say
one who laughs giggles and splutters like a kid in joy







after all apart form the madness of life
the bedlam of it
its really comic

comicesque a strip narrowing off its perimeters leaving the laughter of...

weather butterfly vanessa

weather yes, like the ancient mariner in . that verse by Coleridge.yes,indeed. a preoccupation of Russians and Canadians. But Canadians are spread in snow snow to snow to snow and dance of snow and sore legs and sore feet. and snow.

weather.
as in

vane



vane.


thus

the name

which, as it turns out was coined into existence by
Mister poet

Swift

as:

"The name Vanessa was invented by Irish writer Jonathan Swift for Esther Vanhomrigh, whom Swift had met in 1708 and whom he tutored. The name was created by taking "Van" from Vanhomrigh's last name and adding "Essa", the pet form of Esther.

In 1726 the name Vanessa appeared in print for the first time in Cadenus and Vanessa, an autobiographical poem about Swift's relationship with Vanhomrigh. Swift had written the poem in 1713, but it was not published until three years after Vanhomrigh died. There is a conjectured relationship of Swift's invented name to that of Vannozza dei Cattanei, the mother of the famed Cesare Borgia, who had lived 200 years earlier.

Vanessa has been adopted later as the name of a genus of butterfly.

The name became popular in modern times following the success of actress Vanessa Redgrave and singer Vanessa L. Williams. Vanessa was the 71st most popular name for girls born in the United States in 2007. It has been among the top 200 names for girls in the United States since 1953 and among the top 100 names for girls since 1977. It first appeared among the top 1,000 names for girls in the United States in 1950, when it appeared on the list ranked in 939th place.[1]

-- a charming entry in Wikipedia


so the name is a butterfly that's been tutored and learned. an erudite
butterfly _ what an image of hope! in winter to see the
butterfly

so we think of the Butterfly
to get us through winter's cold marshalls.
its buckets of slow snow

i cant remember where but somewhere Foucault, the french philosopher speaks of

meantime we have the weather forecast here.

so
the name yes

a weather vane for flowers of butter
and flying charming thoughts. recognition
of limit. windvane of arms wing. and wings o f desire.


vanessa


the name




and weather as it swirls trips and brings our bodies around the sun.

do you ski mister D?

do you toboggan ?

indeed I did I was the greatest tobogganer that ever walked on two feet.


_________________
or shelley's line
if winter is here
can spring be far behind?


will the world's spring come
with peace dropping
around this mad planet
uri avnery, a brave man,
sees hope
in mister obama's inaugural speech here.
and prophet chomsky speaks here in more dire tones.
between the large and small we live.

between butterfly and snow.and banks of rage.
and weaved by peace we .

we'll
look for
Vanessa cardui



as the symbol, delicate as it is, of our hope :



2009/01/27

there's nothing

~ there's nothing calmer more calming even consoling than this concerto of Mozart's.

even in the cold one's spirit cannot be stolen if you listen to this.
i hope the roof of the universe listens
and the powers of the world empires hearken ~ it's beauty uplifts and lifts.
one.
carries one to the possiblity of serenity and the promise, unforeseen by its composer,
of world peace.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791):
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra no. 21 in C major, K. 467 ("Elvira Madigan") played by Daniele Ruffino.




2009/01/26

a nude 2



a nude in winter
Mister D?

how can it be?
naked body pulsing in the imaginary lover
hovered over mouth
held by ridges her tongue


these calls and cries of night
or tears jerked up in day
eating alone
you sobbed


wept

and into the infinite cold
of this
siberian city


no longer home
here
out of place
out

--
is this your place?
where is language

--
her arms
are a mouth
that's escaped you


life is breath is short
it's cold
infinite winter
montreal


go away winter
i tire

of this infinite dry repeating
artic


bones wish
for homes
in arms
long sought
in the beloved voice

tucked in my heart


2009/01/25

nude and

--------------

does this cold never wend its earth back to heat?


is there no tear melts cold?
cold has no tears
heart has heat heat's heart recalls remembers always



is there heat in these bones?
come my bones we'll love again
these loving years

its death's pirate hunting you down
killing your spirit makes
you cry for loneliness 's
predator murders your soul


hurting your lover self

-------------

tthis cold will end this
winter gone

and one day
we will go to a country of no more winter ~


----------

i picture walks
the air
meadows
and these loving arms of her love


i cant find words
anymore
what words find anymore words


if these whispers hide tears
you're condemned to solo death
not accidents of rhyme or modeled peaks of clay
Adam's here hung to his missed Eve
her shining cheek his love

_
O yes
we hear these cities of love

warm in the distance of her loving pulsing breast
( i mean our breasts heaved up in the wild flash
hers and mine
in the act of love)
(pushed up our breasts speak)
against mine
we cry
lover's wound
mouths pushed up here against mine



O h ~





2009/01/23

a nude

~
ah who knows what's going on,
w hen they'll be back...
well it's been good for you so far...
... yes it has... I'll call you when they come back
I'll need a ride...
a ride ride ride
who knows how the world works moving from city to city
house to house neighborhood to neighborhood each quartier
a village... and a realization the other day that this was a village
of France's ....
left and lost in the dozening of Empire ... Ah them old Empires and their world building...
as if we didn't know better...



as for this

as the world is lost in your arms
i am lost in this


as the lissome long woman's is freaked by difference
height spanning hand after hand the widow spider of her fifteen differs
yes she 's arched the way past sound







but what does it mean? so we see , prose is just a way of seeing
straight when we're looking backward knocking on
carrying docking our stations

indeed docked ~


_____________
as for this music:
": Concerto en do majeur, pour 2 violons, 2 flûtes à bec, 2 trompettes, 2 mandolines, 2 salmoe, 2 théorbes, violoncelle, cordes et basse continue. (Tromba Marina)" no one can create it



2009/01/22

of the world night


_________________________


of the world there are many days and nights.

night under cover of night. its dark
a fretting case of blues.
but narcotized by the hours of leanness.
never marking a sport.tenderness showers the thought over the air
as you proceed. marked by each feeling hampered by ankle and foot.
or limbed in the proxy of wool. carried by sheep. hefted by wain
righting scolders not scholars and the empty of war.
your ruin is this space where the gathered men speak pencils. no wrecking ball
lifts the bacillus above the tent that's ruining the floor. up the shadowed airs
come reveled by their pleasures not sick of the ruin.


how this mouth peaches. or covers its bane
not the stuttered keep of shirts.
or the luxurious swan of lakes
but solitude its mate .


inside the man's head a lake. woman
the wrapping round her endless infinite mercy.
her love fared the busted wound . savoured by its nurture.
recovered and covered overcome overcomed ~ .


____________________




Laura Betti legge una poesia di Pasolini - Marilyn

I've come across this tribute to love , beauty , and desire
Pasoiline Marilyn Pasoline Laura Betti
mighty force of lyric
passion ruptured by the lent of desire

Laura Betti-Legge-Marilyn-di Pier Paolo Pasolini




Del mondo antico e del mondo futuro
era rimasta solo la bellezza, e tu,




03:03

povera sorellina minore,
quella che corre dietro ai fratelli più grandi,
e ride e piange con loro, per imitarli,
e si mette addosso le loro sciarpette,
tocca non vista i loro libri, i loro coltellini,
tu sorellina più piccola,
quella bellezza l’avevi addosso umilmente,
e la tua anima di figlia di piccola gente,
non hai mai saputo di averla,
perché altrimenti non sarebbe stata bellezza.
Sparì, come un pulviscolo d’oro.
Il mondo te l’ha insegnata.
Così la tua bellezza divenne sua.
Dello stupido mondo antico
e del feroce mondo futuro
era rimasta una bellezza che non si vergognava
di alludere ai piccoli seni di sorellina,
al piccolo ventre così facilmente nudo.
E per questo era bellezza, la stessa
che hanno le dolci mendicanti di colore,
le zingare, le figlie dei commercianti
vincitrici ai concorsi a Miami o a Roma
Spari’, come una colombella d’oro.
Il mondo te l’ha insegnato,
e così la tua bellezza non fu più bellezza.
Ma tu continuavi ad esser bambina,
sciocca come l’antichità, crudele come il futuro,
e fra te e la tua bellezza posseduta dal potere
si mise tutta la stupidità e la crudeltò del presente
te la portavi sempre dietro come un sorriso tra le lacrime
impudica per passività, indecente per obbedienza.
Sparì come una bianca ombra d’oro.
La tua bellezza sopravvissuta del mondo antico,
richiesta dal mondo futuro, posseduta
dal mondo presente, divenne così un male.
Ora i fratelli maggiori finalmente si voltano,
smettono per un momento i loro maledetti giochi,
escono dalla loro inesorabile distrazione,
e si chiedono: “È possibile che Marilyn,
la piccola Marilyn ci abbia indicato la strada?”
Ora sei tu, la prima, tu la sorella più piccola, quella
che non conta nulla, poverina, col suo sorriso,
sei tu la prima oltre le porte del mondo
abbandonato al suo destino di morte.

--------------------------------------



via archivo

[da Pier Paolo Pasolini Bestemmia, Tutte le poesie, Garzanti, Milano 1993]

to yours

_____________________


in these dark day

we seek light. as it
come. roun here your ending
bending
bedding
this budding
over here
yore arm
so far
.
a kiss i've flung
this sonnet off the edge of the bed
to yours ~


_______________
i remember letters you sent
i've never forgot phrases come
over me waterfalling in midst of day's shrubbery bramble
as i ve walked into your imagined arms
sweet talk of bliss our love
yours
an d
this narrow arrow of narrative we've
constructed ~

oui et
oui
dans ce cas
l'imaginaire est plus
réel/réelle;
femmas
maskmasque
toi
la
ta bouche
tes levres






_______________






2009/01/19

in fur










you might have teeth
but ihave rain
none have suchathing as
cupping in their romantic part
o r
gilded by fleur-de-lys -------------------- Mona in fur

piss onthe counter
of beckoning
reckoning other pick
rings
___________________________ others pretend person
but we have personae and horn bullhorned
as cow do pathc
or ruminate the hour ~

kale away my lovelies
we know better how roving goeth
in theunderstanding of better

----------------------------



2009/01/18

of you




thoughts of you

all day
and
day
and talk of you







________________
I did not forget ~
____________
ever
ever













2009/01/17

u n i v er s e



Mister Goya __________________













the coldest day i
n the


















2009/01/16

in the cold



_____________________________

in the cold

make bells for freedom

columns for immanence
democracy belling for love

as winter's bitter feet
pound the death out of others
end their sobs on the pulling of time
end the god of before to the god of now


good by e god of ever before
(and) yer demons and demonic force

end yer demon grip on history women children men lines of flight that lassoed
the history of hate

end that demon deity

bring joy to plus
every passing truck

__________________________________






Au milieu de l' Empire__ au milieu of gradua l.. empire ... ending....

A HOmer Run for the Trojan lines of flight zippin roun empiRe as it dissolves its bodies stratifiCation and deaths ~ pulchritutidinous mulititudinous mulitplyin full body organless of the earth of peopling swelling roaring around the earth's hoary hand
_______________________________________



--------------------- Greece Greece Greece


thinking breathing living alive ~

"Quelques clefs pour comprendre la révolte-jeune de Décembre 2008 en Grèce

La Grèce est probablement pour la première fois depuis la Junte des Colonels 1967-1974 à l’ affiche des médias internationaux, X des politiques et des chercheurs en sciences sociales en tant que société moderne et non plus en tant que société balkanique ou méditerranéenne .

Erigé en exemple éventuellement précurseur à travers la révolte-jeunes de Décembre 2008 la Grèce se désenclave des représentations en termes d’ antiquité et de folklore touristique.

La révolte très violente qui s’est propagée dans toutes les grandes villes du pays du samedi 6 au vendredi 12 décembre 2008 a sur plusieurs plans déclenché des questionnements sociétaux refoulés ou avortes depuis plusieurs décennies. L’ impératif d’un questionnement sociétal ne peut plus être escamoté."


via

griots at twitter

and

On the greek riots

Irregular updates and articles on the situation in Greece, in English

and open anthropology


_______________
other media
here subMedia.tv/stimulator/
&
grit tv ~




___________________

---------------

and centre for media alternatives Indymedia Quebec Montreal

2009/01/15

not






t
his is the world

(the world's war)

the way

of
world

and power


but not glory
not glory

no
not



glory



nor glorious
but

gore's visage







beyond explanation

past reparation













shame



shame shame

shame and

shame for their

shame for their

burning

shame for their

deaths

shame for
their pain

________________________________________________________

and



The horror not the glory
the powerlessness not the power ~





2009/01/14

sun and




are you writing poetry mister duffy? mister duffy is writing poetry mozart. on e has to hope


to write. create. compose the repose of gardenia . as flower to flood garden. or working the rill of peopled sunsets




He is thinking her even if not. His body is tuned to a sky he's not met. yet.
So then all his poem is a love song for her.




____________there is a space between

every thing




________________









the sun



the coldest day turns out to be the sunniest ...

how the sun shines...

and i think of one I have not spoken with in so long...

2009/01/13

full

An almost full moon
over the city
sky
blue deep

deep as blue can be
night time nighttime
blowing gusts of wind along the avenue
it whistles wind

one cannot say this thing
one can be it ~

then one breathes ~





______________
________________________

Montreal Paris




Montreal ~ 12:24 a.m.
Paris 06:24 a.m.



________________________

_________________


the lovers





the lovers make a good den.

even in war. shifting change of limb
gathers the seeming light
spoiling their pleasure.

In Russia the nights are long.
we leave. lease our press. head for Poland.
In Poland they understand . He says
nodding his frying pan of juice
and plain jane along the underwear of self.

In Russia the cold is burial brutal bitter.
Like the muttered stake of stained walls.

Along the Siberian mist no trucks drive.
here the memories are slow. as the archipelago remembers nothing.


Who was the name of the dead that spoke your name,
their name?


























the way the old city _2



the way the old city ... and

before St. Petersburg. a madnes.


city sick

-


---------------------

--



the day many bodies flying all around. None of them mine.



I a m the light in eyes.none return. turn turn turn your ass toward me.







you are bad bad bad bad and I am b adder





come over here





I'm gonna give you something you won't forget.
at the subway if you had come near de bigbag wolf..o lady wolf-eyes and the other one so unhappy frustrated her face docked in deathno expression to it /all closed off/face closeface close.yes.
her thighs crying for abandon tortured by the tight jeans





making her like murder notlove and love's lust.



ignored



as there was nothing there





not even a person .





really.just a rage . alust fuck. a death . spotwanting power.
this body this ass.licking.







your mounting.fierce. angery strength.you _ th e thirst drouth.
sexual frustration. o mounting sexualyearning. year.








mounting sexual three. servant to slave.mickled maundering thing. raves her parenting to slave rendezvousing.why so and so doesn' t understand .P is not P. but S. dont getit.getit? getit? getit and gum you go.the weight of word. gelid. drop thee lid drooping window paneloss o f articles holding in place. gerdundives.abstract modifier to carry the sill.gerrymandering gerundive. She dirndl her gerundive fate.make merry the oft called thistle.branches and boor.







2





"Songs of the Molecules" Nomes andair as cosmos wreathing.



("the arms of the molecules write the page of your health



write the page of your health")





Wreathing bodies woman mouth to woman other mouth



eating. as the rascal spaced time. gathered to geese



assmoulting melted as butter.



the city's wide arse.







_________



this is not love or even desire. as it chambering



folding chairs o f sloth.



not the naked body rivering itself .





not at at all ~









_____around Moscow the women are fierce. cold. harsh .



heading into Poland we found the rough winds kinder ~







but the Polish pastry shop closed.



Slavs are not loved nor wanted around here ~

_________________________
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------________

the way the old city ... and

before St. Petersburg. a madnes.

city sick

------------------------


the day many bodies flying all around. None of them mine.


I a m the light in eyes.none return. turn turn turn your ass toward me.






you are bad bad bad bad and I am b adder




come over here




I'm gonna give you something you won't forget.
at the subway if you had come near de bigbag wolf..o lady wolf-eyes and the other one so unhappy frustrated her face docked in deathno expression to it /all closed off/face closeface close.yes.
her thighs crying for abandon tortured by the tight jeans




making her like murder notlove and love's lust.


ignored


as there was nothing there




not even a person .




really.just a rage . alust fuck. a death . spotwanting power.
this body this ass.licking.






your mounting.fierce. angery strength.you _ th e thirst drouth.
sexual frustration. o mounting sexualyearning. year.







mounting sexual three. servant to slave.mickled maundering thing. raves her parenting to slave rendezvousing.why so and so doesn' t understand .P is not P. but S. dont getit.getit? getit? getit and gum you go.the weight of word. gelid. drop thee lid drooping window paneloss o f articles holding in place. gerdundives.abstract modifier to carry the sill.gerrymandering gerundive. She dirndl her gerundive fate.make merry the oft called thistle.branches and boor.






2




"Songs of the Molecules" Nomes andair as cosmos wreathing.


("the arms of the molecules write the page of your health


write the page of your health")




Wreathing bodies woman mouth to woman other mouth


eating. as the rascal spaced time. gathered to geese


assmoulting melted as butter.


the city's wide arse.






_________


this is not love or even desire. as it chambering


folding chairs o f sloth.


not the naked body rivering itself .




not at at all ~







__________ around Moscow the women are fierce. cold. harsh .


heading into Poland we found the rough winds kinder ~




but the Polish pastry shop closed.


Slavs are not loved nor wanted around here ~









2009/01/12

how to spell pell mell

`




you dont know how to spell Mister D




`

RecallToPoetry ReC All rE CaLl: circuit a fictional poem

O so you've created another carte?
une autre fiction des peres et meres
de la mere
the sea as tree
as we we us we then us
us oui yes O oui yes

circuit a fictional poem

you 've come to the sea
arranging your hair

as this willow peeking
knows namin has no end
it's still this piece
round your ass
holds up the circus
this way there is no one wrong .

playing with yourself
curlers round the bramble s of your bidden body
you know no foster-home can take it you ~
you are fake to my fair
on your knees
on your knees
squeeze the circus dry
apologize ~



2

going to your bed
naked you'll pretend not calling my name
your hand'll slide around your ass

smooth as any silken sock we become vulgar in love ~

come to my mistle-toe darling~


2009/01/11

this part

this part of russia is colder . nights
are terrors. of reigning dogs. ringing
bells calling the name of the dead past.
over the whore hill and ravening. what wolf calls
this name?
death death death
how can death be so peaceful?

2009/01/10

the valley




___________________

Canada is a strange place. All the children are silver. All the knight's remnant. each is eye to silver. Argent on plate. Valiant
cavalier to the last hour.




Canada was a place of ice storm wind. North. South rim roun wind. Was russian in its orthodox but blissful in its seat. No one knew it. . .



______
Each air is a foxy trail ~















heart to heart

across 2 ~




across Russia winter comes

what do you seek? death
blames everything
death balms all
 

narrows the crisp edge of things
leaving their bleeding hearts behind


where do you find the body?
in the mirror between edge and prayer

prayer? which sun that prays in this sudden forest
snow camped overheard underfoot


hummed the sky
we're hampered by the death alleys
delays of others who's lives are dragged ours


I have come to Russia to find the king ~ 



the[i]re



there is night
there




>their night is death

2009/01/08

across

across russia the cold winter comes

what do you seek here? death
blames everything
d eath balms all

it narrows down the crisp edge of things
leaving their bleeding hearts behind


___
where do you find the body?

in the mirror between edge and prayer?

prayer? which sun's that prays i n this sudden forest of snow

we're hampered by the death alleys
delays of others who's lives are dragged ours

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I have come to Russia to find the king ~

2009/01/07

Notre Musique ~



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Notre Musique de Jean Luc(k!) GOD ard. Mist God Luck!
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I''ve been watching this movie in clip form for about two weeks. There are movies by Godard that I have seen that seem to have become a part of my own consciousness. Snow is a part of my conscioussness. the world is a snowfall a blizzard.a tirade. a smooth wind butting tenderly against the weakness of death.


had a sore ankle the other day. was very bad. better now. snow and blow outside. inside ok . well ... so we go here there and here to pick up things. proVISIOns as if winter would never end.

people wear running shoes all winter.



is there a poem in there somewhere Mister Death?
do you die every day in your dying
loneliness

does madness grip man like a monkey beat?

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2009/01/06

but

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but ill turn death into our loving arms
as i sea
wreath each day it's breath across names and numbers


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if

Are you eyeless in Gaza?

is this how the pure pyramid reverts?
its caring seeing eye death?

warranties make death's warranties glad for its making
breast burned around the north
around the mouths of teething babes

2009/01/04

i ...




I have come to kiss you

under death's blanket


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but







but night would become day ~








and so it does































2009/01/02

this night ~

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this night called winter ~


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