( via / via )

Somebody recorded all of Poems of Puncture.

"With shards of words, I rebuilt a destroyed city, where my books lay buried with broken bees' wings." --The Book of Questions

Couple that is always holding hands.

"opalization at lightning ridge"

   sanguine word · assorted
   sand paintings in haint green
   book in my hand · Hawkwind
   heft the album reft had
   & pick pocket sparkles
   apart from velvet delver
wrong way the road · ruinward
   sublime Blood Quran

🖤🤍 Vaudeville 🤍🖤.

( via / via)

Blue boombox.

"distant whitecaps
wild sea oats oscillate
along the dunes
a lone piper runs
through sand and ashes"

--an'ya

As you slip deeper into the night.

"We read of many descriptions of places of note, whose scenes have been subject to occupy the time and skilled attention of the greatest artists, who ever, or shall, allow the pinched, reduced, or cut-down coat of the great friend of African adventure to depict their unquestioned genius on the roughest of manufacturing industry; but no canvas whose face has ever been furrowed with wrinkles of undoubted art, could show to the eye of the most cute, Nature as it lies almost untouched around the coast of Connemara. There we have one of the grandest openings for description that yet has occupied the minds of mighty men of thought, whose beautiful and dreamlike surroundings laugh at the attempts of the ablest pen." --Amanda Ros, Delina Delaney

You owe yourself a happiness. 🍄.

( via / via )

Snippet of Armageddon.

"Farewell to the humble charms of wabi, the morose pleasures of sabi. Greetings to the potent joy of cold-forged steel...to the harsh intoxications of temperature-resistant polymer components...and a special hello to pure ballistic stopping power." --Thomas Ligotti, My Work Is Not Yet Done (2002)

Two (or maybe four) rainy figures.

"Poppies In October

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly —

A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky

Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.

O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers."

--Sylvia Plath

"They loved paper suddenly."

( via / via )

Horns & water.

"Sheep In Fog

The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells -
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water."

--Sylvia Plath (via)

BLACKLIGHT2.

"Mother, your lament seems cruel only amid roses. In the desert, it is older than the wind." --The Book of Secrets

What is chance ?

( @Arkenston@mastodon.world / via )

Copy Machine Manifestos.

"Where the eye can still rest, where the ear can still hear, where the nose can still smell, where the fingers can still touch, rises a wall." --The Book of Questions

Crush #45.

if i give you 5 lines of a poem, can you finish it with three more lines in the same style? the poem is:

   Traceless trysted hostage
   Patrician chrome homework
   Leaves of the bright letdown
   Allots scissored wizard
   The one clamor enclave...

"In twilight's clandestine dance,
Moonlit whispers, a mystic trance.
Shadows weave their silent lore,
Echoes of a love, forevermore.
In clandestine realms we roam,
A traceless tryst, our secret home."

--ChapGPT

that was 5 lines

"Apologies for that oversight. Here are three more lines to complete the poem:

Veiled in the night's tender gaze,
Silent echoes, love's maze.
In the heart's clandestine enclave."

   close to the death dosage
cerulean is the ride · rigors clandestine
   waiting in line for a wisp

Pre-Memory Of The Morning Sky.

( via / via )

"For us, caught up in the roil and moil of ordinary life, scurrying about, worked and pressured and fearful, these empty shows, these vain simulacra, are distractions by which we are moved."

tubes, tape, · tough bandages
so dark the waves on Biscayne Bay

two tabs of a ketamine
are sunshine enough

kiss me while so dark
tubes, tape, tough bandages

Cat on the keys.

"Under Diocletian a pantomime was given with great success. It was called, The Last Will and Testament of Defunct Jupiter."

"In the end, mechanization’s real innovation is in manipulating consumer demand: creating a complacent buyer with reduced expectations of quality."

( via / via )

Dark starry waves.

"We are given as pasture to the iron monster, to each link of the chain, to each brazen mouth. It sacrifices us to our steps." --The Book of Questions

Pillar of dull sparkles.

"A few years ago I delved into the work of F.P. Penard & A.P. Penard. A book (in Dutch) from 1908, in which they report on their language / philosophy / cosmology communications with the Kali'na (Caribs) in Suriname. How I understand what they report:

The Kali'na, are convinced that the truth of existence cannot be spoken or imagined. Only the insight that escapes a representation in words or images touches the truth.

If language is understood to mean: an ordered collection of sounds and sound combinations, which is understood in their meaning by a certain group of users, then every sound ('letter') and every sound combination ('word') in their language is the result of process of nature and forms a natural whole.

The language of the Kali'na is based on the effects and similarities in nature and basically goes back to an arrangement of sound units that represent a philosophy. In other words, the meanings are mainly based on the sounds that form the meaning building blocks for the sound combinations. Each sound contains an effect or concept related to the formation of the language. It is the expression of living knowledge, which has existed since the circle of nature, the movement, the manifesting intention has existed.

There are concepts in this language for which there are no equivalents in our alphabetic languages and which can therefore only be interpreted approximately. As the keeper of oral traditions, the Pyjai knows the basics (the arrangement of sound units and their meaning) of their language.

A simple example is WENE (every letter represents a sound, according to the inventory of the Penard brothers). W stands for the question and can be interpreted as a dark background
E stands for transmission
N stands for reversing reflection
ENE stands for seeing
WENE can be interpreted as a mirror, just as one reflects in the water
(And the 'word' WENE therefore returns not only the object mirror, but also the details of its operation.)

A more complex example is TAMUSI.
T stands for end or terminating
A stands for beginning or matter-forming
M stands for circle or image
U stand for association
S stands for intention or stimulation
I stands for I
TA can be referred to as termination
MU can be referred to as, the vital in everything that exists, the construction element of everything, the foundation
SI can be referred to as creative intention, movement
TAMU can be interpreted as perfect
AMU can be referred to as basic unit, smallest unit of matter, connection of units, basic circle
TAMUSI can be referred to as the intention of the one, the manifesting intention, perfect intention, basic intention, material name-circle-sphere, the mentioned, setting it in motion, the uninterrupted circular motion in all that exists, the fulfillment of the times, the fulfillment of sound units, fruit-bearing agent, all-pervading mathematics." --Valaqi Emcy on Fb

Testing new things.

( via / via )

I Have No Mouth.

"A poet who sits in the light of words like a cat in the mote-filled sunlight of a window." --Robert Duncan

Global South.

"DROPS OF TEARS

Give me
Even the temperature of wool clothes that covered a manekin.
The lady came from a foreign country, they say.
She is an eternal nymph
Because of being a myth.

Let's not throw away
Even polytheism,
Nor knowledge.
And
Oh, transcendence of today's midnight!

My breathing.
My song.
Oh, the gentle salt
Of tears!

Let's go in the midnight.
Young painters! Let's go in the midnight.
Impossible images
In the darkness, in the darkness,
In the darkness.
Please stop to check
Whether they really exist
With patience, indeed!

The lady came from a foreign country, they say,
Because of the myth of her brain.
Please make up me
Even with the black dusty colour
That spoiled a manekin!"

--Un Go

"There are so many great palindromists working outside the English language."

( via / via )

"Yet This Is Memorial Device is an example of the world of a novel becoming something greater than the individual’s response to the text."

   the dark current doorless
   undoubted rizz schism
   where a pale horse parses
   repining deft Einstöck
   caught in the moult current
   in accord with myth wont
i linger where the lozenge · of lasagna sprawls
   buzz & no other banishing

Video Game Mythologies.

"It's Santa Con in the East Village. Some bars have banned all Santa costume elements, like they are gang colors." --@Poochigian

Painterly rolling ball animation.

( miekal and / via )

Ice and will to survive 🧊🏹.

"Happy those who take pains forming their letters, whose words are meticulously drawn. They sleep and wake up in palaces." --The Book of Questions

Blue & gold illusion.

"ice cream co-pay"

avenue gray grovelight
grown a long dronetail
'midst showers & shard-stern

shade mementos flinty
the dark current doorless

Dancing chevrons.

( via / via )

Gnosis.

"But these are false, or little else but dreams,
Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.
The first and wisest of them all professed
To know this only, that he nothing knew..."

--Paradise Regained

Snowflakes on an overpass at night.

1.
sparkling grooves · dry spavined
sparse in the mute future
so tired · hands of tinsel

attempt where claims are empty
& the night bird battles

2.
   tide-whisperer tipsy
   with too long steeped oolong
no need · for three socks
   the gold kneels in the limbec

How Tez.

( via / via )

I Can Only Give You Everything.

silence from our robot
at the edge of known space
here in uneasy orbit
humans phantoms chase

nothing but a cam'ra
the size of a small car
the exploration era
didn't get very far

now you are flotsam thrown
back into our dreaming
bloodshed in the gloaming
flourishes ever green

Rabbit's Moon. ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

"When there is nothing left, there will still be sand." --The Book of Questions

Adventure Awaits.

( via / via )

Studio Ghibli vibes.

"The silvery touch of fortune is too often gilt with betrayal: the meddling mouth of extravagance swallows every desire, and eats the heart of honesty with pickled pride: the imposury of position is petty, and ends, as it should commence, with stirring strife." --Amanda Ros (via @HarrySKeeler)

"Cope later said that ‘O King of Chaos’ was the first of his (many) song about Odin, though he didn’t know to name him in 1984."

"dense fog
the moon's tide of
silence"

--@poem_exe 5-18-15

"I always thought that excessively performative femininity was a kind of black magic."

( via / via )

⚛️GN.

industrious for nothing
unless necessities sing
flowery wars crack pavement
treats for the ravens now bring

maroon, reddish brown, orange
on the drivers scarce impinge
still i keep Argus vigil
flowery wars & ghost harg

🤚👁👄👁✋.

"I would be at the worst; worst is my port,
My harbour, and my ultimate repose..."

--Paradise Regained

Blockbuster video.

( via jason cohen on fb / via )

Ada in Barcelona.

"No matter how you tried, you could neither go faster nor more slowly." --Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions (tr R Waldrop, 1976)

Celan's Dickinson.

"Deep within the mountains
Is the focus
Of my thoughts, yet
Not dwelling there, their charm:
Will I ever know it?"

--Saigyō

Cannot unsee 😂.

( via / via )

Jeffrey Wright reads Dickinson.

sparkling through the dark blinds
stumbling stone in the night
this planet
too big to exist...motley
for what audience

sparkling through the dark blinds grimly

Alternate 2v1.

"and ice on slow old Baldpate
when the Nore gulls fly this way that tell to Lear’s
river a long winter’s tale."

--The Anathemata

Lights Out.

( via / me )

Zippety Do-Dah.

After Dombey and Son i read a best-seller, Lessons in Chemistry. It was engaging, but to me problematic. One can easily read both the chemists who are a couple (the husband gets killed early on) as autistic. But the rest of the story (the wife goes on to national success as a TV chef, this in the early 60s) is more (feminist-charged) fantasy than realistic (& not as funny as it thinks it is). The truth is, speaking one's mind with brutal candor is not something tolerated by the neurotypical majority. A perfect case is Simone Weil, who never minced words from her earliest childhood (she even pissed off the Marxists) & only became published & respectable after her lonely death. Maybe i'm reading too much into this bagatelle...soon to be a miniseries with Brie Larson (AKA "Captain Marvel").

Lively textured glow.

age of fire & gravel
smattering of words
gold & cerulean moods
in this plush hovel
guest of the abstract ixodids

age of gravel & fire
& short blunt words
rotten to the core
ploughshares to swords
when poll day comes to dredge the sewer

count what an imbecile wind
sifts through orange fingers
on Lakeside sundry daggers
no oaths defend
rich hues back to soil returned

⬛🔊.

( via / lanny quarles )

UNFATED 👁🔴.

"Old Song

Thy absence overflows the rose
From every petal gleam
Such words as it were vain to close
Such tears as cloud the dream

So eyes that mind thee fair and gone
Bemused at waking spend
On skies that gild thy remote dawn
More hopes than here attend

The burden of the rose will fade
Sped in the spectrum's kiss
But here the thorn in sharpened shade
Weathers all loneliness."

--Hart Crane

Totem.

"Right so, though that my witte were a pilgrim,
And wente fer from home, he cam again."

--Hoccleve

"None of us is really alive now."

( via / via )

Trained an sdxl LoRA on some vintage christmas cards.

"During a Berlin Winter, the sky has only two colours: futility and despair." --@_ryanruby_

🦪.

"origin story"

1.
something that won't keep forever
is a passage through the desert

powerful allies hover
microclimes, the map

you can say what you know is true
& it's a punch in the face

in the desert
you can remember your name

2.
paradox
as a verb tense

toothache
a lighthouse

a long ago reverie
in the lee of an overpass

comes to fruition

3.
unbinding
not a force within words

A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day.

( miekal and on fb / via )

Difrasismo.

"Leviathan

This is the black sea-brute bulling through wave-wrack,
Ancient as ocean's shifting hills, who in sea-toils
Travelling, who furrowing the salt acres
Heavily, his wake hoary behind him,
Shoulders spouting, the fist of his forehead
Over wastes gray-green crashing, among horses unbroken
From bellowing fields, past bone-wreck of vessels,
Tide-ruin, wash of lost bodies bobbing
No longer sought for, and islands of ice gleaming,
Who ravening the rank flood, wave-marshalling,
Overmastering the dark sea-marches, finds home
And harvest. Frightening to foolhardiest
Mariners, his size were difficult to describe:
The hulk of him is like hills heaving,
Dark, yet as crags of drift-ice, crowns cracking in thunder,
Like land's self by night black-looming, surf churning and trailing
Along his shores' rushing, shoal-water boding
About the dark of his jaws; and who should moor at his edge
And fare on afoot would find gates of no gardens,
But the hill of dark underfoot diving,
Closing overhead, the cold deep, and drowning.
He is called Leviathan, and named for rolling,
First created he was of all creatures,
He has held Jonah three days and nights,
He is that curling serpent that in ocean is,
Sea-fright he is, and the shadow under the earth.
Days there are, nonetheless, when he lies
Like an angel, although a lost angel
On the waste's unease, no eye of man moving,
Bird hovering, fish flashing, creature whatever
Who after him came to herit earth's emptiness.
Froth at flanks seething soothes to stillness,
Waits; with one eye he watches
Dark of night sinking last, with one eye dayrise
As at first over foaming pastures. He makes no cry
Though that light is a breath. The sea curling,
Star-climbed, wind-combed, cumbered with itself still
As at first it was, is the hand not yet contented
Of the Creator. And he waits for the world to begin."

--WS Merwin

Djevojka Se Sa Suncem Kladila.

People will excuse being mean, but truthfulness is a quality they cannot forgive.

DPSY21 EDIT14.

( via / via )

No Other Gods.

"For lying is thy sustenance, thy food."

--Paradise Regained

Reading The Malady of Death.

"The Helmet

Bobby Breen’s. His Boston fireman’s gift
With BREEN in scarlet lacquer on its spread
Fantailing brim,

Tinctures of sweat and hair oil
In the withered sponge and shock-absorbing webs
Beneath the crown—

Or better say the crest, for crest it is—
Steel ridge, leather-trimmed, hand-tooled, hand-sewn,
Tipped with a little clasp of beaten copper…

Emblazoned with the number 17, and on my shelf
Like a trophy, like 'headgear
Of the tribe,' as O’Grady called it

In right heroic mood that afternoon
When the fireman poet presented it to me
As 'the visiting fireman,' twenty years ago—

As if I were up to it, as if I had
Served time under it, his fire-thane’s shield,
His shoulder-awning, while shattering glass

And rubble-bolts out of a burning roof
Hailed down on every hatchet man and hose man
Till the hard-reared shield-wall broke."

--Seamus Heaney

Fire Trails - 231212.

( via / via )

On Venus, Have We Got a Rabbi.

“Daedalus”

1.

I mastered mazes. Now I’ve made us wings
That will transcend my knack for complication.
There’s just no medium for art
Like air—the tool and arm apart
No more, the dream of every master mason.
Work and freedom aren’t separate things.

You see what I am doing, son?
   A rhythmic beating, level with the heart,
Will float us far above all mazes.
Fountaining arrows will fail to graze us,
Sleeved and saved by daring art.
Now help me paste these feathers on.

2.

No maze is so well-worked with ways as flight.
Up there, son, every way is open.
To wear these wings, we must
Be dead to pride, dead to the lust
For exaltation. Don’t go up there hoping
To taste the fire fruit of light.

Remember, even eagles have an upper bound.
A God may bend to kiss you, or be kissed,
   But if you soar into his solar iris
You’ll feel how hot his ire is.
My art will burn away like mist,
And your only way out of the maze will be down."

--Amit Majmudar in Plough 12/5/23

"A house like a massacre."

"...now I feel by proof
That fellowship in pain divides not smart,
Nor lightens aught each man’s peculiar load"

--Paradise Regained

Speculative Poetry and the Modern Alliterative Revival.

( via / via )

Orange eruption.

"And now by some strong motion I am led
Into this wilderness..."

--Paradise Regained

Can Pixels Age?

      "the Bouvier Affair"

   scarf up Jeff the Killer
   calm vocaloid broker
   Stooky Bill in stockpile
   austere doctor's rearview
   mirror of pimp pumpkin
   & the porn ring kingdom
huge hazard · rehearse safeword
   we who restore wingspans

Hong Kong.

( via / via )

The Bouvier Affair.

"stooky bill"

Newton's Cradle creepwise
across ray & shadow
i laid down tracks crossways
for a time · the statue in mist
in & out of view
for hours in the corridor
i waited · forgotten
orange square · pink square
mustard square · don't look

all the sep'rate missions

without light · without heat
without water

pay extra
& you can talk to a person

"He read the entire five hundred and forty-one pages straight through: eight hours a day in uninterrupted four-hour blocks of time, for four solid days." (via @dreamsofbeing_)

"O what a multitude of thoughts at once
Awakened in me swarm..."

--Paradise Regained

Sloop.

( via / via )

Another day, another pattern.

"So to the coast of Jordan he directs
His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles..."

--Paradise Regained

"Music Route, occurring between the years 2011-2013 initially and otherwise beyond, is the original first 'route'. It comes first in the official 'timelines' order. It contains all of the official music videos for the 'Kagerou Project' songs."

"tezpole"

centipede therapy
enough of this trumpery

cannibal pinnacle
gangplank so slippery

Micrographia.