Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
"Rosy Fingered Dwn, the Child of Morning"--
Homer's phrase--rises from the Blood Red Oceans--
a "child of morning" or one of "mourning"--no, no elegiac moods, none at all----
the birth of things and the first letter (roman alphabet)--where the rising sun meets the blood red horizons--and sky and ocean run together--
fluids of light--the blood red stains and flows of birth--
and blood red transforms into a blood "read"--
and the blood in the within worlds, inside capillary flows and floods, flowing outwo/ards into a sky-ocean--
no longer any difference--
as veins flow among each other and from their mingling arises the "child of morning"--a first sight/sound--an "a"--an "ah"--
ecstatic presence of life--emerging--
from oceanic dreams to sky--
trust one (living)
a red zone"
unclear arm hung
in a" model
roll (dribble) "new memory"
slowly (red white
red white red)
interior (or) because'd
(and) siren rolling
line'd (red white)
present with arm
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
into the cup of tea
"Why not?" said the March Hare.
(avec Eléonore Lebidois
((pour Clifford Duffy, with friendship...
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Duffy dream of Aristotle as the lover mental of Aquinas in in the high and mightyful diction of the fictional historian, a hysterial conundrum in the order of the names of the roses[hysterialis not a typo reader] the schizo clothe that rhymes that word with rose. As for our good old Master Thomas __ indeed! Bully bellied Thomas suffered from avarice but is the angelic doctor of theology and his sweet tongue mastered the Aristotle to defeat the 'heretical' testimonies implicit in the then new thought of Islam .... suffice it to say the great Bach like cathedral of theological genius he erected was a pinhead to be forsworn by the Scotus. Ah, those masters of theology in Paris, and the quarrels, the Sentences of Peter Abelard! Ay! and no plodding was the intelligencer Aristotle his poetics his mimesis offering a range not found in the old academic repulic de Platon Palto Alto... oh Plakos tracking forever that shadow land of the Unreal Real Ideal! Vive la Aristotle's march into the Outside n' the actual . Poor old Thomas A... was considered a virtual heretic for a time, suffering in name and post-body an adhoc defense that only in time assumed his heavenly name of the aesthetic and the greatness of his awesome projections, Question, Answer, Proof, Reproof, Counter-proof and all the dances of the razor sharp logic and the accompanying grand edifice of his thought.
Contra Summa Theology
Contra Summa Gentiles
what masterpieces of Latin genius
think of it kiddies
written out by hand
a million words
a grand scholar famous among students few in our day his match or maker in them days, they was readers in the dark, candlelit scholars bent over cramped out of shape & youth by time's hard metricule Christianity a country spread over Europe
like a quilt, a Persian rug,
a thousand stencilled tapestry of
the rhizome scrolls of
its feudal mysteries
a hectic joy!
O haeccities of Scotus
and becomings of smooth wrinkled foreheads
Carrying his books from town to town the pilgrim on the route to Rome sees a vision saying Mass His comment
'All my work seems as straw '
"Ista flumina olim occulta et quodammodo confusa erant, tum in similitudinibus creaturarum, tum etiam in aenigmatibus scripturarum, ita ut vix aliqui sapientes Trinitatis mysterium fide tenerent. Venit Filius Dei et inclusa flumina quodammodo effudit, nomen Trinitatis publicando, Matth. ult. 19: Docete omnes gentes, baptizantes eos in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Unde Job 28, 2: Profunda fluviorum scrutatus est et abscondita produxit in lucem. Et in hoc tangitur materia primi libri."
You dig this Mister Scotus Schiztus!
She Mona dig dug and glued her blue teeth to this booke!
Composes after ward, three songs
to his Christ_ Jesu mon pélican ~
to whom he compares the pérégrine
the pelican Jesu mon pélican quelle douleur!
O Christ pélican blood of the suffering
Easter god Visionary flight into the heavens As Appollinaire puts it 'Christ first aviator '
Ascending into Heaven
teacher mentor to Alexander
the fine Greek nose
sniffing its way to India
and turn away no more in shame from the
Christ aviator first flight into the Heavens
Ascension of the Immanent into the
Spinning jenny of the firmament
None[s] (pun intended) of which has much to do with K's grand divagations, but a wonder to behold moving around the swept place of its movements its tarnished image of thought,and its sideways gallivanating of what is and is not the
'fact'. Fiction, or furious fast life, we post metaphysicans dance a carrying card of agape and
the world umbilicus
thought is its own reward
Our Scotus and Doctors always grappling further inward into another shore. Of rhetoric and plain view polemic. All these windings are true fictions, epistemse of the better later self. These windings that are K F's snap dragon of thought. Bird and beast, butterfly and dragon , mythogram and sememe of desire muttering its entrances and exists.
Shall I read? Shall a writer read what is written? What is written? a prose kinema a scroll of deleterious probes. Always probes, scouts into the frontiers and border country side of ____
"I think I'll write something very simple and very short." [interview about the Fictions] Indeed the deterritorializing of all the figures of history is the way assemblogs work!
array of what can be
sustained by heart
's imagination: cha in
from will in children's hands.
one looks into the sky
to find trilling
of a crafted fleck
dancing with eyelight
a moment flexible
enough to make true
as conscience drives
to upper regis
to and too in two
Science eye-glasses humanity
and my virgin vessel littleness
the journalist guides bows of all logic
into greasy negation /
[a speculative angel mechanism]
the orchestra of all thought excavates magnificent sudden Truth. anti-objective
amusing this individual Dada
philosopher of Science Dada
protest exists. like an add: puts system back
individual manure. ultimate disgust of philtres
like harmony, impotent phantom of logic,
bashes the greased fiddle
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
over the falling sea
which is breathless
between teeth and b's
o that other pressing place
as when a sonnet snare it track
fumble over the high ground of its pentameter
or corseted crossing the rhetoric of its accident
you've sent the face this amber shell
carrying back its smitten fare
when it worked around the couplet
hankering a couple's lovered body
clacked by the Sunday coup-de-grace
pause its turn to legitimize grace of your hair
yer handing this finger clandestine
Sunday and moon clocks over
gathered in your sneaky feet
not necessary to you swill porches round-abouts
and card moochers
this is not night
a sonnet bearing down like a geese
out of shadow
a permanent toss between every expected page
Monday, November 19, 2007
eyes slow fizz
fearless Mr. Fay
before foot &
a decent shave
to the German
on the beat (9)
the cork game
up the "now" alley
committing a stroke-
o' clock the egg
& hauled Trixie
home through 1000
white alley holding
safe breeze along
a trouble station
on the beat
an old Stella
Sunday, November 18, 2007
recognizably interposed meagerness donning forces
through light and the thatched hole
irate and dewfall
the greyness and slipt and dewfall
holyday thinning eroticism hustle
dear suffocate proscribed intensify
paused and perused
in this relation there were three participants
one held xanthin, unaccented
brocades blot the first date - prayerful
glancing [donning] glancing [brutalized] glancing [interposed postoperative recomposition
magnet tears kindle
spelled meager forced split
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Language that world, the “I”
World, order, an “I” but
Subjects “I” through enters
Open can while lid sucks life out
The big thing is
MatTTER WORM hole
A made thing if you know what I mean
A goof on a road like a down spout
The “I” enters
A ton of Kerouac
In a world of world orders
“I” enters “I”
Open the paragraph
Stupid world order exposes lid
“I” sucks the life out
“It is through language that the child enters the social world—the symbolic
order—as an “I”…”
Can be excluded, in sick
Can they exclude, of
Of can through exclude. case
Of defined exclude
What or exclude
Nature vs. intro to PoMo-ism excludes
Attract lice over the hillocks of Des Moines, IA
Criminal lice of can
Sick criminal epistemes often
Entrapped smuggle of
& lice are a game aboard money transacted
& opposites in sled Des Moines, IA
“The criteria of epistemes can be defined through what, or whom, they exclude
or disqualify. In the case of modernity—the mad, the sick and the criminal…”
It precedes phase INFANT &
Infant it precedes
We acquire language
It acquires precedes phase
INFANT & infant imaginary language
Precedes the phase
Electric dog on leash sums up
Imaginary phase is dumped into metaphor superstitious in laughs
The INFANT trod a Pound dingy out
Sky like a Canto
This way to the sink art
“The infant imaginary phase precedes language and contributes
to the way we acquire it.”
Of self arrives from from
Sense arrives from
A sense of arrives from
A sense of arrives
Self arrives a or the
DO NOT DISTURB
Artist at Work
Je rouge le monde rien
Abstraction alone is not a steak & chips
But who is
A sense of the death of the fly baby sitter
Times Porter making book
Space alludes to it
If it is signed & you can piss in it
The name exists
Taking TUMS to the orifice
Imaginary reflection of
A porcelain URINAL from Standard Fixtures Inc
Signed r. dog &
Pony street mogul’s
“A sense of self arrives externally, from a reflection, or from the imaginary.”
Total years lack
Are symptomatic “pstmodern” originality
These years lack
These years symptomatic of lack
These “pstmodern” years
Taboos & sad glad rags off the dike cum Sunday
Like a wand with no star
Opulent itinerary satchel of “pstmodern”
If you glaze your same
Like a dean of green trousers shouting
The Rx is in
The tube is a subway
I am cooler than Ice Tea
Bizarre primitive looking glass eye on the world
Oh, Dada, why are you so
Blonde & feral?!
But the suit is a broad interpretation of opera
At least it was the ‘60s
“These 'postmodern' years are symptomatic of a total lack of originality."
Friday, November 16, 2007
WPA during the 1930's Great Depression in USA was the Works Progress Administration created by President Franklin D. Roosevelt
The WPA provided jobs for and AS painters, writers, musicians, artists and crafts persons in a great many media, as well as jobs for workers in all manner of trades--
Obviously these "evils of socialism" have long since been removed from the American Way of Life--
unless found, mysteriously appearing on sidewalks after the rains, with their "dangerous messages"--)
black hat head-spun southward
in glassy trill, the din of clock and
........springtime sprig snap
......or that of an existing wound--
......an intimate passerby:
....accustomed to striking bow
........along alley corridors
......with hands & heart you
.......... greet him
.....expecting a great performance;
......you’ve only once encountered
.......from a bird, dusky nightingale,
.........who sung mournfully
.....through the salty spray
.. of the sea.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
for serious majors in minors
but is major strong?
Is Major Strong?
is Death incumbent?
Is Strong Great and Major?
Is great necessarily Strong?
what is wrong with this capitalist fuzz?
it's the fuzz the fuzz somebody call the police
call the fuzz
its the natural hair rinse in the moment
of its crude warning
against your chin
well I Don LunaTicTock charge with my Bed Post!
to salve the slave wounds of your stockings!
my dear lover dover!
I am Lord Bryon's beckon post!
shall a knee knock your shape?
Oh shapen monkey of mule!
and hexameters before the Prince of France
what the fuck do you know!
he spouted drinks coming from his head
some tease was waiting in the bathroom
her blooming teeth
her cococa coloured tint
swooned me breath
as bodies leapt stairs
tearing my glance apart!
after all these decades of cases
moods, gerunds, promises of pronouns
bitches of classes
rudes of wents
ignores of morbid
ignorant of morning
but my summer bathes were none too soon
bells a-ringing! a-ringing!
hear the hearkener!
Damn them forth those comments
paranormal elliptical sheets
glance to her ass
sideways to the three
and I walked her home
-Opath each & every night
a glad alligator of her tooth
some goodbye she was to Margaret of my name
silly wham of roses in her soft
not a drag queen at all!
but a man in woman's clothes!
bearing her beard with tom tom repents!
relent! I cried I cried!
take yer dominatrix home
sp\are my tomb without organs
and the savory moonshine of
've no relations
as I have worn her sleeve
in my puffed ways for centuries
I swashbuckle engineer
Here are my letters torn from Abyssinia from Haraar. I am the tooth that would not say goodbye.
Yes, yes! torn from my brave book of hell
let her go to hell
I am weary of these old wars of publishing
no one writes the way
so yer name is that is it?
well so, so be it.
we have a desert to complete
derelict of our dialect
cuss me lover
with lashed eyes
swept with naked frenzies
if the font dont work. hmm. we are tired of selfexpression. some how one night at vincennes prof. deleuze said this astounding thing juste avant le fin de le nuits
les gens s'exprime trop
on a besoins des espace de silence
she lean her mouth
right over his ya-know-what?
well she was two heads to his one
a double backedbisexual loveaffair
any bodies hat and [ one senses a dedunceday in
go to fictions
janicht tonight and night its benighted purse as
the roofed body as they came the
roof of her cleave came to his clocking arms
for any textual compo...
if variants of the text are forms of
when does seduction
commence start, stop?
re[a]el life apparently does go on
for any textual compo...
if variants of the text are forms of
when does seduction
the slime factory.
Ooga boogie entity meet her daddy suckered aid lover. incest cheap chopchop. zygote.
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Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
through the chink in the fence--
a strip of sky & earthen wall--
in what faraway land
among hostile forests--
to sit in someone else's room
among books not mine
& write about the sky
to pen ghosts' writings,
take dictations of phantom songs
the untold, the unwritten
hidden in plain sight
--david-baptiste chirot 11/11/07 Veterans Day, for my friends here & gone
Monday, November 12, 2007
Even path worn by night reveals
partner steering feet smoothly
cold taste gambling ground
and green stuff deadly I forget
to use while changing
names in a rented basement
Return to youth infected
with cheap narrative
belief strings smaller and longer
that frame desire unnoticed
Stick clothing in the eye
I can’t defend
pretty with stain transparent
winter lapse drops fixation
across street pushing hard
for the right to burn my realistic
song twice alone
Sunday, November 11, 2007
fire Verdi in a pincer form of hesitancy brimmed
over overtly with an urge gleaned from projection
to meringue some geometric scarves into sonority
now the feather hazards line these fricative
young streets and parings of the clot of sub
stance load a tiptop tonal range that one
might learn thus to accomodate sprung hissy
fits of doublet or duvet a farthing from
the real thing nesting in a plot and carved
from robust moodlined silver bay ridge
something Verdi was a pomp boy simmering
with volume and minced nest and he was right
about the womb thing worlded he was also
priding selves of his on some normal dist-
bequeathed to who he was and would be (will)
on re ti re le sel de l'eau de la mer ou de la ter re.
(photo: peggy lagarde
Friday, November 9, 2007
From painters, poet, composers:
> Dear David-Baptiste,
> It is with deep gratitude to you that I'm sending you,
> and all the others on our list, a copy of your
> beautiful, provocative print. May it help us all to
> see that light remains as well as to realize that much
> work remains.
> By the way the exact message that was sent out with
> the pdf version of "Light Remains" follows:
> David-Baptiste Chirot explains: "'Light Remains' is
> from a series of pieces called 'No Place to Move,' a
> series within a much larger one to do with Walls,
> which has been going on for the last 17 months now."
> The title comes from a phrase he made for another
> series a few years ago: "'To absorb darkness until
> all that remains is light'--(the opposite of a Black
> Hole)--Light having the ancient associations which
> continue to this day--and 'Light Remains'--even when
> hope may seem gone--it remains--'One cannot hide from
> that which never sets,' as Heraclitus says. So though
> people my be Walled off, imprisoned, 'disappeared,'
> and turned into non-persons--yet they exist--and Light
> Remains--they are visible--and see through those
> fences and Walls--even when it says 'no place to
> "A lot of the pieces are inspired by the situation of
> the people inside Gaza--and then extended and
> continuing to extend to many more areas and situations
> all around one in the world in which Walls may be
> thought of as censorship, surveillance, "security"—not
> only physical Walls, mental and spiritual ones--and
> ones made by language, built with words and images--
> "Light Remains" also as it is the constant in the
> relativity theory for example--all these Walls and
> words change through time--can be changed in time--so
> to see even through the fence and a chink in the
> Wall--is creating an opening--possibilities--"
> David-Baptiste's email address is:
> The pdf version of "Light Remains" is attached. An
> limited edition of 25 has been printed.
nose hairs yer deisisting desire machine. fallout flapping in the wind.yer semiparalysed body. parlay to I. we are loved. we do it. over again.i hold your breast closer to me. this time. spiraled time. forgive my body for living alone too long.
desire its all economic _ all of it.
Im always the other
Im always the other
Im always the other
Thursday, November 8, 2007
as in coarse abrupt voices
poured the full tide of enigmatic song
I looked out the window
able to look at myself
easily lift the eyelids
where the sun broke from gloomy ravines
from the grave, from eternal darkness
to absorb darkness--
until all that remains--
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
intangloed wif e a....graphic/al model....(:) She kiss stub:
wear groery billtobed. beddid what hand cannot not. at border station. lover
flet. Oh come around yer led. come all yafaithful. yer not daffodil. she came out of fidelit
:what is disarration? a crisscross between ... this and that... we wont say except to say as the text crosses its own becomings invente your ownlanguage. yes. well that easier say than do.
re-versing my dissarration desesoir
k tea. and am arevising my disseration. yes, a
in qua qua
sent his clearner back to thi s
discuss connotation [conation]
Fi[n]gure[s] of sspeech . Figures of body. Her wasitline, for instance, her wand like shape. Her unqueenly like buttocks. Fully womaned by the aiming sun and not the wimps of.... Wimp of ngiht and day she enjoy so your pdf . Button.
C;1; you meant to write: intaglioed as jeu de mot sur le phrase qui suive. commen "sweet thames...Suive thames joui jouiIr des .."
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Of small dog
Strange managerial sanctions have been put into place
This war is not an editorial
Plucked by a swan
Or an ideal
We can fix this
No XBOX to rule
For only son(y)
Angels reason duck blind
Never ever hotwire
The rich angels’ Audi
The machine is full
Lay them on the container near the furnace
Flung with monstrous
Monday, November 5, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
j'ai l'impresion que c'est pas emphysème.
aussi c'est peut-etre un question de sememe et le texte... etc..etera... non
monk in visor cap glossing orpheus
[Would mnd justifying yer columns! Sir yer dumb show pantomine gesture does not concern the text as bougeable objet d'art.
Is that Monk or Mona?
swe...et ... leman... twisting... gold brea...st plate...e.... d
run softly i sing not soft...by the waters of leman...
Yes, I know, go on. Wash quit and don't be dabbling. Si, lo so, e
resso? Lava pulito e non sbrodolsweet ... leman.. t
tly i sing n
ours bridhe old cheb w
ent futt and did what you know.
Beh, sai quando il
dò in rov
uma e fe' ciò che
Yes, I know, go on. Waal day
sh quit and don't
not long by the w
di Anna Livia. T
telltale of Anna A
nnapere vo' di An
Wew AnnaLivia? Yes, of course, we all
osed hair... strin
chancéd to All
t down and wept...
k not loud or long...
all my w
words on parole...
all my w
words on parole...
O tell me all abouncertainty to which assemblage can work in limited frame webblog
Spencer , Joyce , Eliot , et transductions
effectively here there or
but as desire-machine work only ....
when they break down
its all good