( via / via )

Rock the Casbah.

"POEMS.
Poems are born when life is dead,
   Or else so much alive
No ribs can give it residence,
   No heart can give it hive.

There is no soul of transient thew,
   No mind of common grey
That can subsist on such an air--
   But poems come that way."

--Lindley Williams Hubbell

Harden My Heart.

"THE INCREDIBLE HULK (Anagrammed Lines)

Its blind rage increases,
in a largeness it scribed;
and irascible genes stir
incredible anger — assist
crisis, green and bestial…."

--@Anthony_Etherin

Rhiannon.

( via / via )

⎛⎝(◕ω◕)⎠⎞🤍💛💜.

"Of course there is a German word for it: 'Kofferbuch.' A book that one takes along on a trip with the intention of reading, but never actually read." --@TimothyDaw

Busy board.

"SO FOR THE LITTLE WHILE

So for the little while that you remain
In spite of sure decay, an unscarred curve
Of terrible granite, or the naked nerve
Of steel that severs cleanly, without pain--
Leaving the startled victim without moan
Until the swordsman vanishes from sight
And the wound wakes to torture in the night--
So for this little while I am your own.

But when I am made conscious of green mould
Upon the granite, or a sheath of rust
Upon the steel, I shall rise and fling
Myself against the pressure of your dust,
Seeking the beauty that is never old,
Which I shall find, if I find anything."

--Lindley Williams Hubbell, in: Braithwaite's Anthology of Magazine Verse, 1925

Busy rectangle-hexagon.

( via / via )

Lunar Caustic.

"sinking
slowly sinking
a red sun
becoming one
with the blue lake"

--an'ya

More early birds.

"A collector of teddy bears is an ARCTOPHILE.
A collector of matchboxes is a PHILLUMENIST.
A collector of transport tokens is a VECTURIST.
A collector of postcards is a DELTIOLOGIST.
A collector of stock certificates is a SCRIPOPHILE.
A collector of beermats is a TEGESTOLOGIST."

--@HaggardHawks

My review of Skald.

( via / via )

"But what we forget is that we did, for a brief moment, have this moment of mutual care and the common good of us as a society."

""Mean-time, in sable Cincture, Shadows vast,
Deep-ting'd and damp, and congregated Clouds,
And all the vapoury Turbulence of Heaven
Involve the Face of things."

--James Thomson

Asked the ai to create a stupid painting and then asked chatgpt to look at it and praise it as a masterpiece.

"This is part of a poem I wrote in Arabic:

How old are you now?
Twenty nine.
What have you accomplished so far?
I'm still trying to count the fingers of the sun
when it enters our house in the camp,
and the color of the moon's face when it loses
its dice game in the sea,
and the features of our clock’s face
when the batteries die."

--@MosabAbuToha

Ball Game.

( via / via )

"While conservative hierarchies and asymmetries are passed through the hallowed institutions of the state and the courts, the fascist deputies take to the streets and the virtual street fights of social media."

"the end of the future of humanity institute"

wearied of the way · worry sags
like old fog · islanding my view
none of these notions · new to me now
nothing i'd cast · into crisp form
though onslaughts · argue otherwise
demand much · from the mere visitation
control trivia · as i try to speak
something serious · to the sick farce

Cycladic hedgehog.

"In Pope I cannot read a line,
But with a sigh I wish it mine:
When he can in a couplet fix
More sense, than I can do in six,
It gives me such a jealous fit,
I cry, pox take him and his wit."

--Jonathan Swift

This is what you park your zeppelin in.

( via / via )

It Ain't Me Babe.

"Where-ever God erects a House of Prayer,
The Devil always builds a Chapel there:
And 'twill be found upon Examination,
The latter has the largest Congregation..."

--Daniel Defoe

The Iliad of Homer Faithfully Translated into Unrhymed English Metre.

"LICHEN (Palindrome by Pairs)

Go well, time,
lichen a bench lime,
till we go."

--@Anthony_Etherin

Proceed to Deep.

( via / via )

gm fam and frens 💜☀️☕.

"aubade"

gibbering lode-pit
adventures down · the river walk
more lives than Jason
betweenpie tribes querying
his landscape his newsreel song

"An early instantiation came from Italian novelist Pia Pera, whose Lo’s Diary (1995) told the story of Nabokov’s Lolita in the voice of its eponymous teenager rather than that of her middle-aged male abuser. More recent examples include Pat Barker’s reimagining of the Iliad from the perspective of Briseis, The Silence of the Girls (2018), Jeet Thayil’s retelling of the New Testament as ventriloquized by its various women, Names of the Women (2021), Natalie Haynes’s A Thousand Ships (2019) her version of the Trojan War from an exclusively female perspective, and her Stone Blind (2022), a reconstruction of Medusa – ‘the original monstered woman’ as its jacket copy has it."

"Pure, volatile voltage begat love, lit a lover up." --@Spoonerrhythms

Views from “Ernie Harper”.

( via / via )

Take Me Home, Country Roads.

"What is meaning? I don’t know, but I may know what its opposite is: thinking that nothingness is easy to bear."

- Mahmoud Darwish (via @EverySongIveEve)0

The Enduring Mystery.

"Keeping One’s Tomb Clean (palindrome)

Dumb moths in a bottle,
moths in a vial —
I overuse both to be sure.

Voila!
I vanish to melt,
to banish tomb mud."

--@SpoonerRhythms

Terrible sonnet.

( via / via )

The constant onrush of the road (RADIO TANK).

"Answers

I keep my answers small and keep them near;
Big questions bruised my mind but still I let
Small answers be a bulwark to my fear.

The huge abstractions I keep from the light;
Small things I handled and caressed and loved.
I let the stars assume the whole of night.

But the big answers clamoured to be moved
Into my life. Their great audacity
Shouted to be acknowledged and believed.

Even when all small answers build up to
Protection of my spirit, I still hear
Big answers striving for their overthrow

And all the great conclusions coming near."

--Elizabeth Jennings

10 flavors of UFO.

All the wars, all the destruction of the 20c, & our society has learned only two things: how to politicize resentment, & how to monetize suffering.

Anagram-Triolet for Byron.

( via / via )

Lego Inferno.

"I feel like literary twitter is a subterranean warren of intersecting and very personal feuds and that every time I like a tweet in its own context it’s like accidentally stepping in a rabbit hole with the potential to agitate — even harm — the little rabbits" --@mcmansionhell

Outdoor Piranesi.

"origin story"

1.
peaked arch off Mechanic Street
haunted by the absence of revenants

of so much not saved

they said we will build a city here
whether or not
anyone wants there to be

2.
not so many mutters
in the mild gray piled-up
ashvalentines · vicious
velleities playing

bare trees pouring pollen
pangs of vetust dew stir
finding out with Endor
owllight ashvalentines

3.
cat-pulled wagon witnessed
by my wordmath gathered

only to say sunward
is set all my debt-flags

moonward all my mulled wine

Liminal Alcatraz.

( via / via )

Disoriented.

"dream"

slept through the warming
of the earth
on this block of brown grass

all the houses made it

It took me years to understand.

"A year from now, people will be like - happy iollotte sserotgomar rat dck stenm cells in a retat day to those who celebrate." --@vikasnavratna

"I am the dream and the stillness." (via @zaharaesque)

( via / via )

Museum curator Iorwerth C Peate claimed these charms were all written by a highly sought dyn hysbys (cunning man) from Llangurig, Powys.

"I have put my soul and trust in flowers. Occult flowers, flowers of premonition."

--Paul Valéry; tr. H. Corke, The Collected Works (via @ForTheTape)

Interior with a piano.

"day that will be beautiful"

though not this one
i am writing toward

so many skies between
i must chronicle
though they pain me

to say they are not the sky

Shai-Hulud the Colossal.

( via / via )

More AI "science". What set it off, i think.

"The Cherry-Snows

The cherry-snows are falling now;
Down from the blossom-clouded sky
Of zephyr-troubled twig and bough,
In widely settling whirls they fly.

The orchard earth, unclothed and brown,
Is wintry-hued with petals white:
Even as the snow they glimmer down:
Brief as the snow's their stainless white."

--Clark Ashton Smith

Quarry Bay.

"When it comes to revolutionaries, trust only the sad ones. The enthusiastic ones are the oppressors of tomorrow."

—William T. Vollmann (via @bernardtjoy)

Maybe we'll put it in [the] paper!

( via / via )

"The conclusions here are helpful for understanding this situation, but equally applicable to thinking about when school libraries bow to book ban pressures, how controversies impact book publishing in the USA and around the world, and historical cases: from the Inquisition, to censorious union-busting in 1950s New Zealand, to the US Comics Code Authority, to universities censoring student newspapers, etc."

"i wish a lot of christians would give up hating LGBTQ people for lent" --@masonmennenga

Short museum stroll. (via)

the animal that builds cages
would like a word with you
no jailbreak discourages
the animal that builds cages
our life of shifts & kludges
begs other value
the animal that builds cages
would like a word with you

"It become clear that all land not used for growing food, we should give it back."

( via / via )

A study of flamingos.

i want the looking back at this
& seeing how there was a way
i'm tired of every toxic bliss
i want the looking back at this

i know some further synthesis
will come of rage & disarray
i want the looking back at this
& seeing how there was a way

Szechuan.

"The wind shows us how close to the edge we are." --@didiondiary

Woman with computer and horse.

( via / chris murray on fb )

"...the language appears to have had two separate words for both fire and water."

"What do humans do when they aren't creating data? Computers have a verb for it, which is most often translated as tracelessnessing'—but that word does not convey the horror or the wonder, the eldritch tragedy of moments lost to an unknowable realm" --@ctrlcreep

You were only a bruise that faded.

      "polyhedral sundial"

   ashvalentine ailment
   ebbs with the word curdled

   could not but keep napping
   anent so much tension

   lies are the maze-mortar
   i mumble scant cantrips

warm overcast weather where
   zugzwang is plaincipher

"September 1, 1939" read by Jeremy Irons.

( via )

Erbil last night.

"TO VICTOR HUGO OF MY CROW PLUTO

“Even when the bird is walking we know that it has wings.” — Victor Hugo

Of:

my crow
Pluto,

the true
Plato,

azzurro-
negro

green-blue
rainbow,

Victor Hugo,
it is true

we know
that the crow

'has wings' how-
ever pigeon-toed

inturned on grass. We do
(adagio)

Vivo-
rosso

'corvo';
although

con dizio-
nario

io parlo
Italiano-

this pseudo
Esperanto

which, savio
ucello,

you speak too-
my vow and motto

(botto e totto)
io giuro

e questo
credo:

lucro
e peso morto.

And so
dear crow-

gioiello
mio-

I have to
let you go;

a bel bosco
generoso,

tuttuto
vagabondo,

serafino
uvacceo.

Sunto,
oltremarino

verecondo
Plato, addio."

--Marianne Moore

"You can ask the sun."

"I didn’t realize the scale. Rafah is about the size of Disneyworld. On its busiest day of the year, it peaks at about 155,000 people, which is miserably packed. Rafah is currently holding 1.4 million displaced refugees. All exits are closed." --@vanessid

"Empathy means / laying yourself down / in someone else’s chalk lines / and snapping a photo, writes Solmaz Sharif."

( via / lanny quarles )

Freddie's Dead.

"Landlines had one advantage: you couldn't see who was calling" --@synekura_audio

Composition 132.

"Solomon said: […]South of Sennaar: say then of that plain,
the far wasteland no foot may tread?

Saturn said: That vaunted one, the voyager famed
as 'Raging-Wolf'—marauding pirate
renowned amid the Philistines, Nimrod’s henchman—
on that field he slaughtered five and twenty
dragons at dawnred, before Death took him.
Since then not a soul seeks out that land;
nor do fowl fly there, none that fare on earth:
for there awoke in the world the Worm-Kindred,
that race of reptiles, who by their writhing coils
and with venomed breath, invade in swarms.
But his unsheathed swordblade is shining yet;
over the graves still glitters the gleaming hilt."

--from "The Second Dialogue of Solomon and Saturn" tr Rahul Gupta

Detail from 𝘗𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘒𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘻𝘦𝘳.

( via / via )

Legend connected with a place called the 'Foul Hole'.

      "image of part of a page"

   jeroboam jury
   adjourn final wine glass
   cerulean cell sunrise
   sack of pterodactyls
   snaking among microbes
   mulch perilous airspace
cagmags overcome · mull this course
   in airt forests of azure

8-line epic.

"The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you."

~Rainer Maria Rilke (via @wanderingsag

Yoko One's greatest hits.

( via / via )

Ball of Fire.

"UPDATE: I’ve decided the Old English word for genocide should NOT be cynsliht, but cyncwalu.

Both match genocide’s literal meaning, ‘race murder’, but cyncwalu is stronger: sliht = murder, while cwalu is often closer to ‘slaughter’. Plus, I think cyncwalu sounds better." --@wylfcen

One day the war will end

"in praise of popups"

   inner war
to match the outside
   what's to do

get more tea from work
sleep an hour more

in the midst of a
crowded fire yell "stage!"

Structuralism is so back.

( The Large Glass / Philadelphia Museum of Art / photo by Hermann Landshoff (1954) via The Marcel Duchamp Club on Fb "suggested for you" / via )

Nu Alrest.

"ashvalentine"

   cerulean
fetters ornate
   full plaintiff

yet rank ingots
   offer mesh
stingray Steinway

   welter · frisk

Cosmic Horror Monthly which, forgive me, i already feel i am subscribed to, just by being on twxttxr...

"But still, it is my firm resolution to pursue writing...that is even further from the cycles of discourse, and even less prone to audience-mirroring and to 'carcinization', as Sam Kriss has nicely described the process whereby all online writing comes to look the same, just as in the convergent evolution of non-crab crustaceans towards a shared and distinctly crab-like body plan." --Justin Smith-Ruiu on Substack

In a nutshell.

( via / via )

Look Outside.

"Outcast, replied Kohlhaas, clenching his fist, is my word for a man who receives no protection from the law." - - Kleist (via @DeopartureJay)

By Ume Labo.

"Viking Spring

This: barley green as grass
swaying in gusty May;
its clouds of brandished blades.
This: ghost-blurs from the coast,
hoar-brained crows cawing, haar
fingering the halting
hearts and limbs of lambs
willed to life on the hill.

And this: wing-whirr of geese,
wind-arrows in narrow
formation confirming
sea-currents still foment
their baleful heat, hot blood
and gold-greed still breed in
the mind; sea-wolves still found
fine steel in hearts: yours; mine."

--Ian Crockatt in Skald (2009)

Her funny valentine.

( via / via )

When poets knew what side they were on.

"The Ruins of Nostalgia 15

If nostalgia is primarily aesthetic, i.e., if a beautiful moment we experienced but were not able to apprehend could be apprehended post-hoc, then the impossibility of living in the present could be slathered over with a layer of gold-suffused salve, SALVE, as the blue-and-white tiles spelled out before the door to the barber shop in the city of our youth, for which we feel nostalgic. Repeat. The barber is dead; long live the barber. The city of our youth no longer exists; it exists in our minds. The barber's pinup calendars are smoldering their way down the landfill. Johannes Hofer believed that nostalgia could be cured with opium, leeches, or a trip to the Alps, but we know that the only cure for nostalgia is nostalgia. There is an illness informing the illness, and that illness must be mined to extract the exquisitely atavistic elixir. We kept walking through the beautiful city in our minds saying, Stay, thou art so fair, but the city did not comply. We walked and walked through the city in our minds infecting and healing ourselves at the same time, infecting and healing, infecting and healing, until it was impossible to tell the difference, until we were totally infected, and totally healed. But as soon as we left the city in our minds to come back to this city, we knew that the healing was temporary, and the infection forever. * If nostalgia is primarily aesthetic, then it is also unstable, and if we get attached to beautiful images today, we might spurn them tomorrow. We might love the beautiful images because we can't apprehend them, 'the beautiful' always relocating itself, unrecognizable as the city outside, which is why we keep trying to rebuild the city in our minds. And it's why we slather salve over SALVE, suffuse it, why we gold-leaf gold leaf. It's why we ruin the ruins of nostalgia."

--Donna Stonecipher

C o m p u t e [s] \ R s.

"What an eye among the rungs and hordes
of angelkind would turn and find
my long call through the storm of time?"

— Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Guy Davenport) (via @isidro_li

Milou Margot.

( via / me )

"Would you, for example, withhold food from them, or make them wear disciplinary collars?"

"The only non-human credited with asking an existential question was a parrot named Alex, who asked 'what colour?' while looking in a mirror during a language experiment reported in 1983. His last words before his death in 2007 were, 'You be good. See you tomorrow. I love you.' " --@HaggardHawks

🎤🐶✌️.

"...observe here the zone: the Zodiac's
sigils circling. The Solstices,
the asterisked Equinoxes,
Cross-Quarter Days, are chronicled
wrought in roundlets, their rims locking
in clock-worklike caster-bearings,
gear-train meshes of that greatest Mill,
its wheels winding, in whirligigs
turning, grinding: Time's axletree
metes out the months. Each medal helmed
by a star-steerer, in each storied orb
manikins mimic the Months' Labours."

--Rahul Gupta in Long Poem Magazine, 2016

Aquapreneur, detailed oil painting, edward hopper.

( via / via )

We. A subtle reminder that i am not the best authority on every possible topic.

"WON’T

One solid idyll,
a totem;
red nudes are mired,
nudes are erased under;
I’m erased,
unused under me,
totally!
Did I lose?
Not now."

--@MerlinaAcevedo

A weird voronoi based force implementation.

"for every revolutionary must at last will his own destruction rooted as he is in the past he sets out to destroy"

- Diane DiPrima, "Revolutionary Letter #12" (via @aliner)

ONLY A SINGLE HEART.