fog off the forged manacles of yer breast


Take the sarcasm harum skarum! " the secrety of moon" then light.
a clear pitch raised to its oath like status. provokes my satire. bent . by wool
and folly, doilies round her ass. shes coming in her pants.
or her thong.
wanted this best disease, desire to breath its last. as coming in her mouth.
all the rose. tinted. garb . felloff her naked arse, breast and sex.


the neurosis is staying fuckused on the papa.
its the Signifarter
that's killya.

drop yer existential panties
and come

ferget about planting "your seed"
in "my you know what"
the big c
for see


all them telescope. time. paving. give me a son. a child. your child
i was 17 on the highway. hiking walking. waking into sunset.


forget the deddy
that's warped
your curls



you have seen these many things

errant & jagged as th e frost
round eyebrows?

is that the cul-de-sac

the chuckle

she wings its .
not bad.

for forest .cake.
frosting. cake in the oven. of the wished to be about to become.
perhaps this sign was its neurosis her folly.
a deux?

O she was ridgeway to haven. round her sunny thighs.
this was cluster pillows on the calls she made
amending her maid fairy bending
or her maid
like Maiden mary milk way croft.

this spine's spent on its backward glance

o glance is a fancy.
or a curling eyebrow
to the native cut.

where is memory mister immanence



does your poetry provide a meditation between your beats?

the world as always. strange. laure adler was here. in early may. and i missed her. but mist er duffy you cannot speak? you go to event?s? where is yer memory for what happens. much happen in day to day. one cannot be everywhere. is one god to think one is an attribute spinoza to radioAte round the everywhere immanence of it all? one cannot.

______________ it does and odes.
_______________________________ I think you are a book-becoming forever. not in the actual of history. day by day. your radiating outward wheels mere spokes of. in you r tea. your writing keeps you between. yes sir. between. where the event of real life happens . keeps happening.
so you did not speak with Laure Adler.

_____________________ you spoke to earth


w ind




drums of peace

the drum s of peace? shall it become its self

as suggested by Uri Avneri

in his essay from Gush Shalom?

BARACK OBAMA is often compared to Franklin Delano Roosevelt, but it is from the book of another Roosevelt that he has taken a leaf: President Theodore Roosevelt, who, 108 years ago, advised his successors: “Speak softly and carry a big stick!”

This week, the whole world saw how this is done. Obama sat in the Oval Office side by side with Binyamin Netanyahu and spoke to the journalists. He was earnest, but relaxed. The body language spoke clearly: while Netanyahu leaned forward assiduously, like a traveling salesman peddling his merchandise, Obama leaned back, tranquil and self-assured.

He spoke softly, very softly. But leaning against the wall behind him, hidden by the flag, was a very big stick indeed.

------N THE MEANTIME, throughout the world there is a growing consensus that the only way to get the wheels of peace moving again is for Obama to publish his peace plan and call upon both sides to accept it. If need be, in popular referendums.

He could do this in the speech he is due to deliver in two weeks time in Cairo, during his first presidential trip to the Middle East. Not by accident, he will not come to Israel during this trip, something that is almost unprecedented for a US president.

To do this, he must be ready to take on the powerful Israeli lobby. It seems that he is ready for that. The last president who dared to do this was Dwight D. Eisenhower, who compelled Israel to give back the Sinai straight after the 1956 war. “Ike” was so popular that he was not afraid of the lobby. Obama is no less popular, and perhaps he will dare, too.

As ”Teddy” Roosevelt indicated: when you have a big stick, you don’t have to wave it. You can afford to speak softly.

I hope Obama will indeed speak softly – but clearly and unambiguously.


as like

you've seen many abrasions in your life

but none so worrying as this

phases? isn't it? day's night. night's day. life's day. day's life. life's night. come hence. thence.
the weed. none as worrydorned as that. that man. her woman. that woman. as. like. her neck
swan like rose up and up . as Burmese dancer. and Modigliani neck. her butterfly more
sound. cushioned as the rarest loaming. yet some so rich. as . would it abate the hour its .lesson. on five. enter. the cents she redeemed to her 5Cent postage.

each is only the strawberry
of tongued creation its marrrying

thrived by the end of its physical presence

~ .

not that presence was an issue. why be there any issue for it to remark its mediation. of thesethere've been city upon city. and blacks whites garnered their permanent kindliness for it.

love was it's name. drumbeating its solo song ~ .

for thee and elle et toi ~



reel to reeL _ Life stories from barbara hammer :


'Lover Other: The Story of Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore

1920's Surrealist artists Claude Cahun and marcel Moore come to life in this hybrid documentary. "
The world conspires against Love .
My own dears divorced my conspirators
that cannot stand the

their bending
deterritorialing their
gender bodies

O love
its mighty force
hefting the plane
all way

"Lesbians and step-sisters, the gender-bending artists lived and worked together all their lives. Heroic resisters to the Nazis occupying Jersey Isle during WWII, they were captured and sentenced to death."

to death they were sent by the haters of love.

take this body to death | its infinite sadness
______________________________ indeed these artists are 'strange' as lover.
offbeat. were. off brilliant. beat. of ordinary.


Other: The Story of Claude Ca
hun and Marcel Moore_barbarahammer.com from barbara hammer on Vimeo.

______________ Oh yu wholuvasOwl to beat
its dark wool over the gathering dark
violet violent hate ~


more video of barbara hammer here 


s u n

what did he say

if you hurry you might hear the sun

(between each comma and page)

(as repetition is its god

unfinished blanket of the davinci days)

as it wishes its back on everyone

near its night and day

losers everyone of them bitter in their dying fearful

of eloquence reticence and virtues of the silk pen

for this betrayal has wrappers in its packing

not like clochard or rare elements but near Grendel and

the four wolves, or the bears, say that reach for commas

tearing apart in the forest their own lemon suit .

what suit tears its heart before grass

page of never and tomatoe borne by the heart of care

wished for its vain hope not lacquered by cunning draughts

chess's only steel is its hope

stony faced as the bus terminal blues

and blue as its traversed swine

you see

__You see her love
_that's hidden
__like a clear star

___ifif it's hidden and far it's near

_____then its the ghost road of disappearnce
a appearance


as you do

something about pyraminds and you walking through

them your complexity a bride like all a ride

Icarus and the single plane (engine) gliding the clouds

then glowing then falling as you do sister


whoever fights

Re: Whoemsover Fights

Something in 'me' about that song, a theatre of details, not some profound justice of meaning, but a sea hearing out to its song. I am not sure, not sure I am sure, not, a sure I, not a song , not am I, sure not song.

Then why bother to speak with anything but muffles in your mouth?

The tale of detail and the ramble of rugged roofs gabled over your path and your daft death arriving soon

between the orchards and shares of your stork
some thinglike the great poet of the shields and temporary waves
even I is the bit that crumbled between the waves
hunger our waif

not drunk like the cold nights then
when then was a rouge fixed over the temporary bases of your self

they want me to speak , I will not speak, nothing 'will be' clarified,

except the anonymous masked song

what will you do with that O Thomas doubting

_____________________ a package by CollaGe RIps

Comment has derided the night. A cumbersome waif waits her tune. Chune it is .
Rigamarole region .

Hover the hour spaoon.


an one

How Tzarathoustra is Frida inspiration for the air that breath?

her spine an back?

her ruptured gut her broken part

around the edging of this suffered body


of this an others how many similar dunes?
of this which an one one one which?

over the top of the broken body that broken an one
an one

would a body be
bare to its naked strappings
belt arm guard
taut tied rackings its holding back


knowing it

you close this day manif
serif hover to its harp
closed to dialogue we'v ecovere'd ground not
whispering round your knees my
love i've held each hour
close to my breath's heart
tuning its rich tweed
carrying its forest fork further
you will know its name

its nam

(Now yer watching)
(the blood of the 'a poet'

knowing its there with you closer our travels rugged lean and backward
glancing future forward to a body without rim s

opened to the star god movement
the still moving shepherd herding by his sheep this elevated throng

_________________________________ over your breath isee the night
__________________________________moon's wake is song i see you walking there__________

it must be an apple that holds you
it holds me ~

______________________________________________________could it be ? you're there i'm here?
i'm looking ac ross the street in the corner crowd moving
i see you
it's you
see you
see you
c'est toi

liberte ca presse

(Now demonstrating)
(in paris street)

between each feet


our herd



Maison de la Poésie Paris

du 8 au 17 mai 2009

Premier acte d’une mutation, la poésie sonore entre à la Maison de la Poésie par la grande porte. L’histoire tourne sa roue. La poésie réprouvée, l’expérimentale, la mêlée d’électronique, l’emmêlée de computer, la poésie offerte à la matière contemporaine se montre et s’écoute pendant dix jours chez nous : la poésie sonore dans tous ses états fait son festival, première édition qui en appellera d’autres, saison après saison, au mois de mai. Le théâtre tout entier lui sera dédié.
Claude Guerre.

avec Bernard Heidsieck, Christian Prigent, Arnaud Churin, Alvaro García de Zúñiga, Jean-Pierre Balpe, Jacques Bioulès, Edith Azam, Raoul Sangla, Melle Paul, Jérôme Game, Djiz, Charles Pennequin, André Dion, La Muse en Circuit, Wilfried Wendling et Jean-Marc Bourg 

what i was doi sonore poesie ta

------------------------- bring yer tapeRECORDER 
00h10 - 00h59
par Aude Lavigne, Xavier de la Porte, Tristan Francoz

-----------------------10 dazes soun poemzzzzzz sonore

su r le poesie sonore. a strange term, but to hell, really
its just a question of us.e.

sumgottabeherdtoberead udderstoreadtobesceneherd.as widwakesatfinnergens. as readingiswriting.
--------------------------------------- j'ai trouvez des synonymss

sie sonore. a strange term, but to hell, really
its just a question of us.e.

its as if sumwasjustfindings
yetizall achieved
to unreavel
son better


france culture audio discours su r le poesie sonore. a strange term, but to hell, really
its just a question of us.e.


[MANIF DU 1ER MAI 09 .2]

Actu et Politique
Durée : 10:04Pris le : 01 mai 2009Lieu : Pantin, Île-de-France, France


the facest

the irregularity of spring is dark air aries in the ninth house as
its wings its fat hips over the border cambering a dark horse

do you like that ? esteemed reader . mist of night. heaven of star. dante of guide. remember me of sun. hurry over now. our reward is waiting. of famised lips there is never.never. enough to embrace thee thought. your plate is full cabin boy, reckon you're near to weeping with _ keening_ thought.

Meshing the idea its gem like study cabochon

but aries is not erryies or cragging . nesting. heeling hencef


canned heat meant for mothers of worry

the can of worrries and the river of pout. the rainbow of rough. the grub of glue. something like the patois of favour. wrihing this salam bo?

Mesha is a god_ sd

dithering before each bottom butt

by this soul Ayanamsa part you've railed having with. Come to. lofty .

over the greek pillar. It's the poet's stone. the blarney brogue.

feather'd to the silver campaign.

spring then is unusual it's bottle pregnant with the hefty gust. naw, she's iconic as plaster. ornamented by inlaid flower bed. Open your lip. Syllable. I've held this cheery maids.

Her discourse is pleasure minus one the strepped maid, sterile. she's absent to sex missing its finer mirror. crutched by a nutcase speaks of metaphysics vladimir's validation. the congregation of foolishness. nailed by every adjective. crips as bacon.


begin a page as every milk mouth

word breed one two three fourth dyad to spring

kalpa is ten million year. before enunciation of the ermine bride


come bidders hail your tray by this narcotic sock
allprayers bent at their meal



this sweet tear

Th[is].... pictured ancient icon, dating back to the first century AD, was reproduced from an original icon that was illustrated

Follow up message
by Saint Luke

, The Physician. The original icon depicts the Virgin Mary holding the Infant Jesus, while John the Baptist

was kissing Christ's feet, and beside him a lamp, which is a symbol of Christ himself."

yer chris t is a l wa ys a fantasm
a n ikon hangin on the lip of Mother Virgin
Assumpted in ta~ sKIES open'ed by
bending heaven overward

____________ some say near the end they called you
were some
they cilia

eyelashed by the preponderant cell _ wispy ~

him Saint


97 and 94 from a series redoing

-------------------------------------- Come back come back come back . Little air

97 ~

close to the roof of heaven its night and day
like H's hammer as the thunder clouds speak
the wind blow 'silence on my radio
the air-wave flow' I am just living
by the cliffs' rumble of roar it passes
so night like


aside all things
which crumble off rocks


'A few words to make you sooth waves
like these maker her close her back `nonetheless'

'I have to run,' but see you later.

Her back turned at the computer looking into `space'
`its space'


these verses previous existence proves the flight of being. into becoming itself round the raven of choice. a word of choice deflected round its summaries loves and compelled by lov'e sender to resend its heart .

________________________ you like to revist these old shacks? maybe they need repair jibbing this boat's dawning, its yaw cracked at the rim

seeded at the belt

a tormented wind breaking its tooth ~

so then a verse walks it s own name to eternity. a must. a see you. say a cllimbing columbus into leaven filed of ~ something something and thing to sum its rate of courted stew and meeting.

heart wool.

__________________________ you think Mister D Mona like retarring? it's not retarring lad, its detearing and retearing deterritorializing in Jill Franny et Mona's lingo.

________________________ dans un blog le poeme does not finish and started the same weigh.it fairy over the feld.

stone by its wey rocked by its port .
the image creating a self. regulating its norm(s)

__________________________________________ is this a lecture or a foam?
_____________________________________________ it is a foam reading lectern.

----------------------------------------------- shall it rided off with its name?
a glide a tear a chair away from thinking?

_________________________ we shall see won't we?

_________________________ she bow out its never never nervecentre pulsing to the beat.

justified columns awake by love.

97 and 94 from a 'certain' or uncertain series

is close to the roof of heaven its nights and days
like H's hammer as the thunder clouds speak
and the wind blows 'silence on my radio
the air-waves flow' I am just living
by the cliffs rumble of roar as it passes
so night like aloof aside all things
which crumble off the rocks


A few words to make you soothe waves
like these maker her close her back `nonetheless'
I havbe to run, but see you later.
Her back turned at the computer looking into `space'
`its space'



these verses previous existence proves the flight of being. into becoming itself round the raven of choice. a word of choice deflected round its summaries loves and compelled by lov'e sender to resend its heart .





Sous les pavés Sous les pavésSous les pavés


where id go?

where id did go? go to doremifasolatido. it's around quote the structure of the tube work. it's a pioneer round its own rim. say trees in spring. budding green as eye light. or whoosh of wind around its alleyoop. indeed and the. the verse work.


where did that go-molecule word

where a man puts a poem inside his head. forever verse. not curse. or its only become to sage. as love never die nor lie. it always become . if you are sick it does so. if it dream. it is your so. if it wheat it is your corn. not corn but seed to spade ups the sapling to its high freed throng. becomed to every which way. of love's make.


wher e did tha t go ? where did it go? where did that body go where did that , wisp, love, go? in snow? half-cut rhyme slacked by the running section of tuba-trombone? was that her hair, in the wind, on a night bus, parking near the back of a cabin, a language, gift, to her eyes, tongue, the air of its salt taste, the rare reckoning of love, her, her s .


lover to its heartspin past nightyour armsgonethe city of lightpassedParis then Dublinback to London lost wayside walkeryou were I was wayfarerSeeing your eyesyour hands gripping as before they gropedso night spelled endingas these rains fell swordwardthis word sees your nameyour bodyback to Parisreturn to MontrealSo calls night's hornto me to your body