2010/10/29
Jacky and
__________________________Kisses to the thunder (k)night ~
she had her dress on
The continuing story of Jacky and the lovers. A sidereal adventure of love and the machine. ? A comeuppance for all newcomer their caretakers and spenders. She rides the rails of love, and her name
is His ~ Jacky the thief of lust with a slim ass like a slim __ Slim came along the knockingwood of ~ Because Jack is Jacky is ~ this seizure of love's unfair body, abundance its undercover name ~ she 's a wily throat.
She had her dress on many pages ~
___________________________________________________
The silent silver medallion of
_______________________________________________
2010/10/27
Henri Langlois ... Godard .. and and
music of Nino Rota
______________________
And well worth reading________________________________
Becauseit deterritorializes a bunch of monstrous strata some people like'd to sling at Godard. this is often done to artists whose domain and reach exceeds by far others __ their capacity to evade moving between the grand strata arouses envy, and hatred in others who are unable to do so for themselves_____________________>
Bill Krohn's
"Kinbrody and the Ceejays: Richard Brody’s Everything Is CinemaBill Krohn |
_______________________________________________________
2010/10/25
by M Brioude - Cited by 1 - Related articles
Il n'y a pas de faux ludisme, ni même de laxisme possible dans ce parcours. ... Post-filmum, court-métrage: 2000. Une trame nommée désir: l'écriture du ... Mireille Brioude holds a PhD from the University of Paris VIII (Saint Denis). She is the author of Violette Leduc: la mise en scène du Je (Amsterdam: Rodopi). ...
www.imageandnarrative.be/inarchive/.../brioude.htm - Cached
2010/10/24
Vénerie
`
Ô Vénus, dans ta Vénerie,
Limier et piqueur à la fois,
Valet-de-chiens et d’écurie,
J’ai vu l’Hallali, les Abois !...
Que Diane aussi me sourie !...
À cors, à cris, à pleine voix
Je fais le pied, je fais le bois ;
Car on dit que : bête varie...
— Un pied de biche : Le voici,
Cordon de sonnette sur rue ;
— Bois de cerf : de la porte aussi ;
— Et puis un pied : un pied-de-grue !...
Ô Fauve après qui j’aboyais,
— Je suis fourbu, qu’on me relaie ! —
Ô Bête ! es-tu donc une laie ?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Bien moins sauvage te croyais !
Tristan Corbière
__ Jules Laforgue's note about the poet _______
_______________________________________
« Bohème de l’Océan – picaresque et falot – cassant, concis, cinglant le vers à la cravache – strident comme le cri des mouettes et comme elles jamais las – sans esthétisme – pas de la poésie et pas du vers, à peine de la littérature – sensuel, il ne montre jamais la chair – voyou et byronien – toujours le mot net – il n’est un autre artiste en vers plus dégagé que lui du langage poétique – il a un métier sans intérêt plastique – l’intérêt, l’effet est dans le cinglé, la pointe-sèche, le calembour, la fringance, le haché romantique – il veut être indéfinissable, incatalogable, pas être aimé, pas être haï ; bref, déclassé de toutes les latitudes, de toutes les mœurs, en deçà et au-delà des Pyrénées. »
(Jules Laforgue, Notes)
Copied from « ebookothèque poétique » est une collection de livres électroniques de poésie française .
more information about this anthology which
is like a reading museum and archive on-line
~
Un peu de poésie
dans les machines
« Florilège »
Anthologie
de la Poésie
de langue française
(1300 - 1979)
Choix des textes
et conception :
Xian
Dernière mise à jour :
3 avril 2010
________________________________________________________
2010/10/20
the book and the ant 2 versions
she lived in denial though she
could not see it she blamed the
other for her contempt the weight
of her probing blustering alley
her self aggrandizement to blame the
other was easier than undoing the denial the river
of her banks swept with the detritus of her
self love loathing to admit she was wrong in
wronging another who loved her who
that was no way to spend christmas or the
fashionable cries of the so called left its
byre of burned out histories left over
mysteries of cry me a hope pray me utopic
glasses of the long dead song of a rough paid
glimpse into the past future and the empire's last glance
thus if the shivering came down for her future
was dead in the door down dead as dread its
the contrary to the leap forward in the present
hopping and skipping to the present and the
present its the opposite of the resent
being general she privated her thighs
and armied her cornware
these too the tales of the huckster
privateers by trade mark their word in the go down
hope and blustered sailor talk not the fuckwise word
and its intent wisecrack.
Now what was slang compared
to these and the rough wedding of its rift but a slave
to its knowing not the trap of the martyr's eyes nor the
sudden slave of the heaving waves nor the cutty bend
of the swarming water balked at the sleeves
these have been yours before and after
and the dark knows days have come their darkness the past rolling onward
the book and the insect
though she lived in denial she
could not see it blaming the other
for her conviction and the weight
of her probing
her self aggrandizement to blame the
bother easier than undoing the denial the river
of her banks swept the detritus of her
self love loath to admission she was wrong in
wronging her brother who loved her that
was no way to spend christmas or the
fashionable cries of the so called left its
byre of burned out mysteries left over
history cry me a hope utopia
its rose coloured glasses of the long dead song of a rough paid work
and a glimpse into the past future and the empire's last glance
she forgot she was oblivious she remembered the shadow on the wall
not the dark
thus if the shivering came down her future
was dead in the door down dead as dread its
the contrary to the leap forward in the present
hopping and skipping to the present and the
present its the opposite of the resent
being general she privated her thighs
and armied her cornware
these too the tales of the huckster
privateers by trade mark their word in the go down
hope and blustered sailor talk not the fuckwise word
and its intent wisecrack.
Now what was slang compared
to these and the rough wedding of its rift but a slave
to its knowing not the trap of the martyr's eyes nor the
sudden slave of the heaving waves nor the cutty bend
of the swarming water balked at the sleeves
these have been yours before and after
and the dark knows days have come their darkness the past rolling onward
the book and the insect
__________________________________
Me: I like repetition I like its drum its drone effect providing a full stop .
Her: It has its place for sure and oftentimes you do the unpredictable with it.
Me : Personally I find it a great strain to write these things that claim to be I bound. I don't like them or dont enjoy the process . to me they seem false in contrast to fiction....
If I take that piece of , taking the parts or pieces of it and start over inthe third personof the fictions it'll sound much better. That is to say, less ill. I don't better because better does not mean good or gooder.
could not see it she blamed the
other for her contempt the weight
of her probing blustering alley
her self aggrandizement to blame the
other was easier than undoing the denial the river
of her banks swept with the detritus of her
self love loathing to admit she was wrong in
wronging another who loved her who
that was no way to spend christmas or the
fashionable cries of the so called left its
byre of burned out histories left over
mysteries of cry me a hope pray me utopic
glasses of the long dead song of a rough paid
glimpse into the past future and the empire's last glance
thus if the shivering came down for her future
was dead in the door down dead as dread its
the contrary to the leap forward in the present
hopping and skipping to the present and the
present its the opposite of the resent
being general she privated her thighs
and armied her cornware
these too the tales of the huckster
privateers by trade mark their word in the go down
hope and blustered sailor talk not the fuckwise word
and its intent wisecrack.
Now what was slang compared
to these and the rough wedding of its rift but a slave
to its knowing not the trap of the martyr's eyes nor the
sudden slave of the heaving waves nor the cutty bend
of the swarming water balked at the sleeves
these have been yours before and after
and the dark knows days have come their darkness the past rolling onward
the book and the insect
though she lived in denial she
could not see it blaming the other
for her conviction and the weight
of her probing
her self aggrandizement to blame the
bother easier than undoing the denial the river
of her banks swept the detritus of her
self love loath to admission she was wrong in
wronging her brother who loved her that
was no way to spend christmas or the
fashionable cries of the so called left its
byre of burned out mysteries left over
history cry me a hope utopia
its rose coloured glasses of the long dead song of a rough paid work
and a glimpse into the past future and the empire's last glance
she forgot she was oblivious she remembered the shadow on the wall
not the dark
thus if the shivering came down her future
was dead in the door down dead as dread its
the contrary to the leap forward in the present
hopping and skipping to the present and the
present its the opposite of the resent
being general she privated her thighs
and armied her cornware
these too the tales of the huckster
privateers by trade mark their word in the go down
hope and blustered sailor talk not the fuckwise word
and its intent wisecrack.
Now what was slang compared
to these and the rough wedding of its rift but a slave
to its knowing not the trap of the martyr's eyes nor the
sudden slave of the heaving waves nor the cutty bend
of the swarming water balked at the sleeves
these have been yours before and after
and the dark knows days have come their darkness the past rolling onward
the book and the insect
__________________________________
Me: I like repetition I like its drum its drone effect providing a full stop .
Her: It has its place for sure and oftentimes you do the unpredictable with it.
Me : Personally I find it a great strain to write these things that claim to be I bound. I don't like them or dont enjoy the process . to me they seem false in contrast to fiction....
If I take that piece of , taking the parts or pieces of it and start over inthe third personof the fictions it'll sound much better. That is to say, less ill. I don't better because better does not mean good or gooder.
2010/10/15
LA Chevelure
_________________________________________
Se pose (je dirais mourir un diadème)
Celle qui ne mouvant astre ni feux au doigt
Rien qu’à simplifier avec gloire la femme
Accomplit par son chef fulgurante l’exploit
these are the true tales of
The Odyssey
By Homer
Book 1
Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god prevented them from ever reaching home.
Tell me, too, about all these things, O daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them.
So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got safely home except Ulysses, and he, though he was longing to return to his wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso, who had got him into a large cave and wanted to marry him.
But as years went by, there came a time when the gods settled that he should go back to Ithaca; even then, however, when he was among his own people, his troubles were not yet over; nevertheless all the gods had now begun to pity him except Neptune, who still persecuted him without ceasing and would not let him get home.
(The opening 2 verse stanzas in the Samuel Butler translation ~ )
____________________
Beside
Drama of
the English
Cyril Tourneur
The Revenger's Tragedy
Ben Jonson
Volpone or the Fox
Tell me, too, about all these things, O daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them.
So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got safely home except Ulysses, and he, though he was longing to return to his wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso, who had got him into a large cave and wanted to marry him.
But as years went by, there came a time when the gods settled that he should go back to Ithaca; even then, however, when he was among his own people, his troubles were not yet over; nevertheless all the gods had now begun to pity him except Neptune, who still persecuted him without ceasing and would not let him get home.
(The opening 2 verse stanzas in the Samuel Butler translation ~ )
____________________
Beside
Drama of
the English
Cyril Tourneur
The Revenger's Tragedy
Ben Jonson
Volpone or the Fox
John Marston
The Dutch Courtesan
George Chapman
Bussy D'Ambois
The Widow's Tears
Thomas Dekker Thomas Middleton
The Roaring Girl
Thomas Middleton
A Chaste Miad in Cheapside
John Webster
The White Devil
The Duchess of Malfi
Franics Beaumont
The Knight of the Moving Pestle
John Fletcher
The Wild-Goose Chase
John Ford
Tis Pity She's a Whore
Phillip Massinger
A New Way to Pay Old Debts
James Shirley
Hyde Park
________________________________
These have been and many ~
.
_____________________
2010/10/14
2010/10/12
2010/10/11
2010/10/10
these are the true tales of
"... take me to dinner ..."
and O
wish i could!
but am busted!
honest
i am as empty
as a peanut
shell
a dog
gone
pell mell
i am turn
inside
out
and lost my even my isbn number!
O : Sail farewell to the nights! and day! the cheap millionaire
living in a pail!
___________________
~bless his soul!
I got a letter from the doctor of money he says: These words scribbled on
his electronic keypad .
his electronic keypad .
"this doctor who's a very
bad poet
wants
free
change
from
me
not knowing
i charge
a thousand dollars
an
hour"
~bless his soul!
________________________________________________________
what poet worthy of her name's not expensive, dear, demanding!herlabour's fair share!!
2010/10/09
to continued friday is fish day
what is a bad performance ? something or
someone who repeats herself to the point of bluntness, obtuse repetition. conceived under this notion most performances are 'bad.' ..
so the problem , if problem there is, is that the multitude is grasped by repetition, and sentiment,
(and yes there is a problem _ think of those left out ; those who cannot get in the clinic, and others who don't know it exists)
and being stymied in this mirror, that endlessly sticks them, there is no , or if not none, then little chance, or really possibility of getting out, and experiencing even if for a
moment the different; artists, like everyone else, are no 'better' than their sickness__ art is a , clinic remember? if it is not a clinic then at least it's at the clinic, and if the work is
a form of health, a n attempt to retrieve, conceive one's health; now return to our poets, most of whom
are at the clinic, simply due to the fact that the majority of people are at the clinic, not because they 'are sick ' in some populist use of the word , but because everyone is in the clinic, really the whole unwhole population is inside the clinic and even overflowing its walls.
where is the medicine ? are there any nurses nearby ? the staff of the hospital is also besieged by another group , not strictly medical, that prop up and even hold the building together so the treatment and care of patients can proceed.
to be continued. re continued as the continuation of the testimony o f its text as one suggests a kiss to the riding poetry of its time
its text as
the riding poetry
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