>

2011/12/08

re ---------------------and

«---------------------------






it rhymes with Lunar

and one-eyed Jack
that`s me Clifford one-eyed for now

Decembre et je pense a toi

yes, you , , toi .


«--------------

2011/12/06

-------------------------and



___________________________


december~ sooonr

_____________________________________________not schooner   ~_______________________________________________________________________



`

-------------------------and

is that what you know
_____________________________________________
a hand held in the sun
g a l  l
         b l      a           d  d er

                   ' you gotta lot of gall '

night rumber and oomba rim ba and  high chin smile 
  air-tooth combing wave and  breaker . Outside of Dublin, two years ago, it was   .
               the rage burnt   sun. rain whirling around her feet tearing the leap frog song,  and the pulling roof on the feet              as it worked it came look crews of thing
 the voice caressing 
not pretending




_________

eye gets bigger
  gets smaller

 


_________________________________ bearsome breaking code

2011/11/22

nove15-2

nove15


e15

waiting for the snow
   a blanket of hay

  abs  and  (HOLd your Mouth wide open for this please MEGAPHONE
Pas Metaphor ) empires King and ding(Ding an sich) sich ? something was it
that disaster minded thing made by the emperor
   ascot and ribald reminder    thing gone past its esteem and
                        the growling night is that what you said drowning night Mister
   and Mrs Homer went to bed and upon awakening found their
 (dead) (deaddread her head)  dread had dissipated waking up schizoanalytic as anything exploding
               across the sun of life and she offering her thing up to me take it take


it O the rise O the rise O  the Mrs the rise O rise anus
  and the god Anubis coming across the thunder and darkness
  as any page does over the air was this culture in a free thinking scholar
was there room for you and for a few and this way over the yellow sidewalk
 the lights forever going dim the whole world a big fat cake of tormented
saunter and sidereal potato chips and does this eat? the grand big scholar
a nd she's telling bipolar something she sees things distorted lens and her 
 

sponsor who's got the biggest most shapely wearing a low key gear hat 
                      SOmeone is arriving: She__>?                                                  a jailor for a boyfriend husband lover and she was a prisoner ina  lesbanese?Lebanese
sexring for  a joint across the sea and no one lives at the sea anymore just
the international navies of nations spyin evading playing war game night afternoon
and the bending rays of the lover at any court seems this way to reckon
her name and plight bethrothal to ploy and polygamous son of Adam and she loves art to                                                       say her muffin is puffin on the Antartic playing ground love's unfound being in the 

nothingness infinite river its palaver ever after  




Adam's  has Eve's by the merry wedding of the gif and fit filter and women
                who bully donning the gown of the western limes the tern dropping speed
                              wheeling around the pediment not this dizzy sight of the winning    
                   losing the horrible sight of the knights on the field yield what is passionate

and losing every near start nor tricked bythe snow banging against the mountain
----------------------------------------------
-------------------------------This way someobody said Jill not bipolar bipolarity of the schizoid flip and the  
paranoiac rip   ~ cALL IT A  TEXT DRA - yes she is her body preen.n perfecting M her mouth perfect revolt on the square that milloons marching are feared non e as the v    a                 c                a           n             t 
                              l                  o             t        s


            o             p                   e              n

____________________________________________________________________________




nove15


waiting for the snow
   a blanket of hay

  abs  and  (HOLd your Mouth wide open for this please MEGAPHONE
Pas Metaphor ) empires King and ding(Ding an sich) sich ? something was it
that disaster minded thing made by the emperor
   ascot and ribald reminder    thing gone past its esteem and
                        the growling night is that what you said drowning night Mister
   and Mrs Homer went to bed and upon awakening found their
 (dead) (deaddread her head)  dread had dissipated waking up schizoanalytic as anything exploding
               across the sun of life and she offering her thing up to me take it take


it O the rise O the rise O  the Mrs the rise O rise anus
  and the god Anubis coming across the thunder and darkness
  as any page does over the air was this culture in a free thinking scholar
was there room for you and for a few and this way over the yellow sidewalk
 the lights forever going dim the whole world a big fat cake of tormented
saunter and sidereal potato chips and does this eat? the grand big scholar
a nd she's telling bipolar something she sees things distorted lens and her 
 

sponsor who's got the biggest most shapely wearing a low key gear hat 
  a jailor for a boyfriend husband lover and she was a prisoner ina  Lebanese
sexring for  a joint across the sea and no one lives at the sea anymore just
the international navies of nations spyin evading playing war game night afternoon
and the bending rays of the lover at any court seems this way to reckon
her name and plight bethrothal to ploy and polygamous son of Adam and she loves art to                                                       say her muffin is puffin on the Antartic playing ground love's unfound being in the 

nothingness infinite river its palaver ever after  




Adam's  has Eve's by the merry wedding of the gif and fit filter and women
                who bully donning the gown of the western limes the tern dropping speed
                              wheeling around the pediment not this dizzy sight of the winning    
                   losing the horrible sight of the knights on the field yield what is passionate

and losing every near start nor tricked bythe snow banging against the mountain
----------------------------------------------
-------------------------------This way someobody said Jill not bipolar bipolarity of the schizoid flip and the 
paranoiac rip   ~ cALL IT A  TEXT DRA - yes she is her body preen.n perfecting M her mouth perfect revolt on the square that milloons marching are feared non e as the v    a                 c                a           n             t 
                              l                  o             t        s


            o             p                   e              n




                                             .




---------------
in those book



2011/11/13

hanging on on



________




 hang on this way every dream is
a face naturally and something like autumn taking at last skies
that kind of cold coming down for the prisoner in the city not the one
prepared with money to flee to the rural was that Mister W you heard 
there for a second yes, and the one of one  not returning she was
not turned to return with the love of  something something 




hang on lover the world's returning to its midst and the proprietary
scams and


_______________ the amusing metric discovery of your love
                           vouchsafes true  giving receiving the hour of     ~


_________________









Here is your Zen moment
O surgery O god O moment





Then again next of kin make no sorrow
for the ranging forest and the rattling? pin
so says the void


Of emptiness that liquid beautiful word
forfended by god and lover
Woo the woods the forecasted charm

Now the bath runs kettle drum and balanced payments
off the check of your birth
O son O daughter
daughter of my birth my hearse?



Hear hearken the bid the roam the    


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


2011/11/08

to the

__________________




as hunger speaks o so their words too rough abusive
slangy ugly under-minding the elegance of the , and the desperate too
the desperate tomb, of the falling crowd

and its rhythm repeat  repeating this dust of crow and billow

Jill you started out that way, ending up a blind alley and a deaf and dumb place,  no? maybe? or a strange mouthpiece of the past and the bible days gone and the blindeded seer dictating the tender voice of, 


of this seer who's speaking? O come along now you  something . and other. (and) the lover's cartoon.
there's no spending like this. love one, this love one, none. like it's pending present to the lover's dock.

___________________




 Now of, of? no, if she continued this the rain'd stop 
seperating jewels and mirror from the water as its rain drop
hovered near earth churning its spitting motion to 
wonder at its riven still birth      ~. no one knows that love 
means carrying on this way ever wondering if a woman, the 
   woman loves you     ~.


____________



2011/11/06

re it and variations

Reit but variations are not necessarily differences _ she takes my breath away ~ click click ~ her coat coming off ~but her face
hurts? the sun then the swearing cursing foul language the threats of afalse security , those of poverty. not jesus and her sarcastic
vein nor the bitter ~ and ignorant that understand nada nada nada C Ah` Not sure saith Mona and her Jelly Roll Morton flavour. and the kids speaking the vulgar tongue of their collective parents.


 but if fiction is credibility and rolling syllabubhubbub! together Not  a simple mispoken thing to say. whats mean. mean? or meant? a clinging to her hair dragged blonde in the chair.  O well ah she's ah that way.


she's happy they left. left the I behind. not  a simple thing to do. leaving I behind . is that? is that so?

Aye indeed it is. I mean it is not easy to O to otot todo. Mona has a honey. she's not a masher's girl, that's for her sure with her hair-net whalebone corset. and her walkie-talkie . u doant speak angleshdoyew? she's hubbubtwohis regardingear. wanting her hugged arse, and cigarettepiffled lip.sssssssss.  In the cawcold she's been a lover'sregular body. not hung or sung, but wrapped in paper. A deer and reindeer to the delicate romance of touch an pensive unity.

so Mona so fiction So romance so Jill Jack and Franny not a real poem at all but a fake one a fakery , fiction, read to her seething pelvis. A ringround her venus holler.

So come along with her, their narrator.


___________




2011/11/05

2

~




   but the dry cold days between the lover's arms 


   or not that, and a few and far between these oceans
    of world, and the destiny of space   ~ .



















 but the dry cold clay  between
                   
 the dry cold day between
        (a lover's arm)


or not that, and a few and far these oceans
  of world  the destiny of space






_____________________


C ~ when you come along variations like this, what do
you do , I mean, how decide?


C.D. I try them out by sound, and then eye inflection, ear inflections and breath seeing what happens among those variables and often leave it to decide for itself, as the reading version is not necessarily the definitive one, as definitive 'ones' i mean as a concept that's pretty limited and why not try to lea ve them letting 'em decide themselves. because after who's to decide the voice, as such, should decide what a poem is. anymore than a tense. One wants the discontinuity not necessarily to take pride of place, but it does have a legitmate place. I mean a performance of a verse, is not the same.


but the same is not the same either is it , now? why press the variables into forced uniform unity




dot dot dot


C: O I see  I see Clifford I cee I c I C C   ~.






       ~







2011/11/04

need you say



need you say need hyaline
                                                                                                         you need your head read!


                                 A shit house mouse!




-----------------------------------but every night yer brain work less ~ playin'fer dead
did ? did did you ====sometime to write script which dont not work ~====sometime to write script which dont not work ~

yes this image already posted but this circular blog





yes this image already posted but this circular blogreally yes we do are


=====================sometime to write script which dont not work ~


yes this image already posted but this circular blog rebloggolizes the already blog to reblog its space of perceive. sometimes it work sometime not||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||




_________________________________________

it

______________






  it must be November 
                        it's cold for  a day then the rushing color comes back


   returning like a sigh along the wood of our thought


                          the lovers and the misplaced places
                                             buttons beneath leaves and lips


         someone saying your name
                                                    
                                                 someone sighing













2




   but the dry cold days between the lover's arms 
  or not and the clay
   and the hot
            and your day 'laying  back'


   or not that, and a few and far between these oceans
    of world, and the destiny of space   ~ .




________________





nobody knows the name of this thing and you are between your bed

~


Is this the kind  of love you have, for my face, not my body?
Does yours sing at night, waitin?


      
I take a breath before your lips, 
the husky scent of your love


This bliss knows its name
 you hold 
me the secret 
in your loving arms
like hairpins that  keep me from driving into the abyss
 unlike the abyss, your love's perpetually
an invitation ,
a glance
           into sun-rays 

(but if I speak like this it is because I am no one)


_______
each types'a  love letter


___________________





2011/11/02

this intimate

___________________


this intimate                    _








______moved___






_________________________________________________





2011/10/26

re: the beauty was vertical

what sort of thing was that? a fragmented thing?
indeed

and written sort of

yea yea yea

vertical on the street is the Up and DoWn of Woman walking like a giraffe? a beauty's elongated neck like a man
who's about to bankrupt and whose lover lips are gone


stale with the loving dead things or rather absent to things appearing
as the end of the world and the money owed the debts and lights

disappearing with every evening toad; it's not pretty semicolon; your papers
Monsieur . where are your papers?

: and the beauty was vertical on the street
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                         And so the slow boat to the 'lachine'
-------------------------this woman who was 
  et toi tu a pas vue ?
  les vues(?) et les voyages
__________________________________________



2011/10/20

and the beauty was vertical on the street.....

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


HIppy birthday forthe goo and moo  the flip glib she too hated was abundant abud a bud a bud abundantand greater than him then the hill she   grayed                her hair Gleamingghis glasse  monstrous glass mounted to mugger the other                 his brother the bettercrushing with the bitterness of the deale rrrrrrrrrrrrr                  r former to the funder                                                                                  
                 ahher (awelfareworker fuckedout on sexpapers) wife ran off withanother guy his                   closest 'best' friend as the bitch 

would have it and her crippled daughter to so he sold out to an engineer and erring his radio show cutting down     ~




pppppppy earthrayhday forthe goo and moo and the flip and glib and he too hated was abundant and greater than him his glasses a monstrous glass mounted to mugger the other his brother the buttercupppingcrushing the bitterness of the realer former to ||||she became
a choken word   deformer
femoral t o her limbs



Inkidu was with his sister
then his 
Mother analing th e sex of filiation


the funder and heris wife ran off withanother guy his closest 'best' friend as the bitch would have it and her crippled daughter to so he sold out to an engineer and erring his radio show cutting down     ~
---------------------------------------------------------------------blooted was abundant and greater than him his glasses a monstrous glass mounted to mugger the other his brother the buttercupppingcrushing the bitterness of the realer former to 


 there was tony the ms relucant painter who loved her boy from afar her lover of old 
the flunder  heris wife scottedff another manclosest 'best' friend as the bitch would have it a-- for there

were three for his were two   ~.


_____________________

2011/10/14

______________________________________


the human beings are  creatures s of molecules and desire

     not captured lanes of freight and frighted  bitter boxes of pills

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

2011/10/11

A 'nice' ? xmas present for pagans

---------------- Copied and pasted from Libre Critique. this is about Francois Villon my brother.







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

Christophe Manon, Testament (d’après François Villon), Léo Scheer, coll. "Laureli",  octobre 2011, 80 pages, 16 €, ISBN : 978-2-7561-0330-3. Editions Léo Scheer : Testament (Christophe Manon)




Suivant scrupuleusement le fil du Testament de F. Villon (les numéros des strophes de l’original sont indiqués en marge et les pièces intermédiaires – ballades et autres – sont également reprises), C. Manon en garde les principales thématiques (la mort omniprésente, bien sûr, mais aussi l’amour et la critique politique et sociale) et le ton général où dominent le burlesque et l’ironie, y compris envers lui-même.
En outre, il insère de nombreux fragments du texte d’origine et en reprend certains traits stylistiques (par exemple, en attribuant des patronymes ridicules à ceux auxquels il fait desdons qui ne le sont pas moins : Edmond Tenlèr,Jean ProfiteClotilde Vagalam, Margot Quintal). Utilisant un lexique le plus souvent trivial et opérant un travail formel à première vue minimaliste (ainsi, la quasi-totalité des vers relèvent d’un simple découpage syntaxique) qui veut peut-être faire écho aussi bien à la pauvreté affichée par Villon qu’à une volonté d’être lisible par le plus grand nombre (sans sombrer pour autant dans la platitude de la langue communicationnelle), C. Manon, se proclamant mauvais garçon comme son modèle (branleur j’ai été et je demeure), s’approprie à sa façon la démarche du poète médiéval en y faisant résonner sa vie et notre époque.



Même si les passages les plus réussis sont sans doute ceux où les deux voix se mêlent étroitement (tel le glissement deTriste, failly, plus noir que meure [mûre], àtriste maigre plus noir / qu’immigré clandestin ou bien celui des fils de rois / et conçus en ventres de reines à ceux qui ont été conçus / par des ovules de dictatrices), l’ensemble est plutôt vivifiant et, à travers de multiples décalages, l’auteur parvient indéniablement à retrouver une certaine tonalité villonesque : entre autres illustrations, la Vierge devient Rouge comme il se doit (Dame du ciel, régente terrienne > dame rebelle esprit de la Commune) et les souffrances amoureuses sont toujours les mêmes qu’au 15ème  siècle, à quelques détails près :
aimez donc tant que vous voudrez
traînez dans les soirées et les boîtes
à la fin vous n’y gagnerez rien
et n’obtiendrez qu’une gueule de bois
les amours fous rendent les gens bêtes :
Rimbaud se fit tirer comme un lapin
Woody Allen en perdit ses lunettes
heureux qui n’en a pas
Comme on le voit, la veine drolatique l’emporte largement et, même si ceTestament s’achève inévitablement sur les obsèques du pauvre Manon et les injonctions forcément fatales que le destin lui adresse (résigne-toi Manon), ce dernier, en bon viveur devant l’Eternel, adresse dans le texte en supplément (L’épitaphe de Manon ou Ballade des poivrots) un ultime pied de nez à la Camarde :
 camarade Whisky qui sur tous a maistrie
garde que Cirrhose n’ait sur nous seigneurie :
d’elle n’ayons que faire ni que foutre
poivrots il n’y a point ici de moquerie
mais pissez dru pas dans un dé à coudre
Tags:bruno-fern, burlesque, christophe-manon, ironie, poésie, villon
http://www.t-pas-net.com/libr-critique/?p=3921

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/12246/12246-h/12246-h.htm
------------------------------------------------------------------- In the 30th year of my .... existence....
______________________