( 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.

( via / via )

In Search of Number Seven.

"fumble-jugglery"

   house of whimwham hymnbook
   Whoville & its Louvre
   greet in sweater weather
   the worm Impermanence
antelucan arkwright · earmarked for deletion
   the same gavel sells you

   marmalade tomato
   remains of prior firestorms
   humbug who holds feldspar
   hatchet at throat votive
come · be cognizant of the wrong cure
   luring all who learn

   marmalade tomato
   lament for the fent'nyls

"This was the start of the weirdness."

“If you ever want, Phalaris, to punish anyone of your people,
You throw him inside this bull and set fire below it.
His groaning will look like the bull is groaning,
And you’ll feel pleasure when you’ll hear the sound through the bull’s nostrils as if it were a flute.”

--Tzetzes 1.25

"Continually moved on, into subsets of nowhere."

( via / me )

Don't call it Genocide.

"For its vibrant coloration, transcendent aura, and pivotal date of execution, No. 7 stands amongst the finest masterworks from the incomparable painterly oeuvre of Mark Rothko." --Sotheby's statement

Please keep eating the forbidden fruit.

"Heaven-Haven

I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea."

--GM Hopkins

I want a chucko buster pete bob and dan movie.

( via / via )

Red-white-green matrix wave.

ember whisper offspring
iron word & its burden
tide whisperer wheedles

on wharf rife with starfish

The Road to Perdition.

"Word of the Day: HOLLOW-TIME (n.) the depths of winter [19thC, Yorkshire]" --@HaggardHawks

The Seventh Victim.

( via / via )

Rust drowsing.

"Ye see our danger on the utmost edge
Of hazard, which admits no long debate"

--Paradise Regained

"I acted before all the tyrants could."

Long ago in my family we used the term "sweater weather" for the cool, sunny autumns of Texas.

Just as palindromists sometimes make up a phrase & then try to define it (or find a use for it e.g. "Navidad Ivan"--still looking for that one), it might be amusing to coin some new kennings. Mine just now:

lane-limiter (orange cone)
subtle sea (under Europa)
bee capybara (a modern AV poet)
creeping caravan (traffic)
ticklecatarrh

verbs:
fountainpennyfetch
Stabreim-stagger

adjectives:
custom-car-colorous

adverbs:
leaf-blowersomely

To be continued?

Reality Tunnel.

( via / via )

To catch Oumuamua.

invent a dozen new kennings

"Moon-sail: (Noun) A term describing a boat or ship as it glides gracefully across the moonlit waters, harnessing the ethereal glow for navigation.

Frost-fingers: (Noun) A poetic expression for the chilly touch of winter, as if delicate fingers of frost reach out and caress the world with an icy embrace.

Ember-whisper: (Noun) The soft, murmuring sound produced by the dying embers of a fire, akin to a hushed conversation between the flames and the night.

Storm-weaver: (Noun) A person or entity with the power to shape and control storms, as if weaving the turbulent elements into a tapestry of tempestuous beauty.

Shadow-lull: (Noun) The gentle, soothing darkness that settles over the world during twilight, casting a tranquil spell and inviting quiet introspection.

Echo-hymn: (Noun) The lingering resonance of sound in a vast space, reminiscent of a hymn that continues to sing long after its source has ceased.

Quill-dancer: (Noun) A term for a skilled writer or poet, likening the pen to a dancer that gracefully moves across the paper, leaving behind a trail of eloquence.

Tide-whisperer: (Noun) One who possesses an intuitive understanding of the ebb and flow of tides, as if able to communicate with the rhythmic heartbeat of the ocean.

Celestial-gleam: (Noun) The radiant glow that emanates from celestial bodies, casting a luminous sheen across the night sky.

Sorrow-veil: (Noun) The metaphorical shroud that sorrow casts over a person's emotions, obscuring joy and enveloping the spirit in a muted, melancholic aura.

Time-architect: (Noun) A visionary or planner who carefully designs and constructs the structure of events, shaping the passage of time with purpose.

Aurora's Veil: (Noun) A poetic reference to the dazzling curtains of light that dance across the polar skies during the aurora borealis, creating an otherworldly spectacle."

--ChatGPT

¨'°÷•..× ງ๓ ×,.•´¨'°.

"Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved" --Paradise Regained

"In the early 1920s, a scene for DC-based typewriter art emerged."

( via / via )

Moon Scale.

"A NODDLECASE was a wig in 17th century slang." --@HaggardHawks

Discovery 52724.

write a tanka poem in the style of Thomas Lovell Beddoes

"Amidst shadows deep,
Grim echoes of mortal strife,
Steel behemoth roars,
Thunderous wrath in its wake,
War's dark dance, death's embrace."

--ChatGPT

"Those territories of the dead where the departed can no longer rely on visitation by living and have abandoned themselves to the company of trees."

( via / via )

Seething void.

accidental · christmas tree
seething void · a wag waddles
into old soundings · fuar brightsome
eight forty eight · poronkusema far
dwelling in raaga hut · hight wag-pasty

Sleeping is cleaning caches...

"The best thing about Barry Manilow's biggest hit song,'I Write the Songs,' is that he didn't write it." --@taoish@mastodonapp.uk

"Came home with this incredible poem about Ben Affleck."

( via / via )

Europa. (Which i now think of as being about a certain Jovian moon.)

"I’ve reported all of your tweets to the Demiurge." --@americangwyn

Interesting Words ☺️.

"sentience
stirring deep inside me
must you leave
this early in autumn
geese begin to gather"

--an'ya

Red sky at morning.

( via / via )

Dylan reads Webster.

not chemtrails riding
skipper of the cab
in shade a shill short

golden as ago wones
irked emmet otacust
it is the rhagfyr foehn

not chemtrails rolling

On Cat People & others.

"TOWER OF BABEL (Palindrome)

Emote ways
words garble,
Babel.

A tale,
Babel brags
drowsy awe
to me."

--@Anthony_Etherin

"The most curious part of this is how people working inside the macroculture are the only folks who don’t understand what’s going on."

( jesus chairez on fb / via )

Power Down.

"I ran into Rebecca Solnit at breakfast and she revealed that, too, she is a secret medievalist. The best thing about having published a novel set in the 12th century is discovering how many of my favorite thinkers were molded by a serious engagement with the Middle Ages.

Not sure why this is, but maybe because there’s something kind of punk and wild and deeply deranged about that era." --@legroff

Ozymandias again.

"INVERSNAID

This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.

A windpuff-bponnet of fawn-froth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.

Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.

What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet."

--GM Hopkins

"Researchers are developing a way of modelling these worlds to determine how much water they have."

( via / via )

Surrealism and Witchcraft thread.

"ode to moral injury"

foot-traversed distance
nail that sticks out
narrowing all the time

to know warfare's cruelty
by hearsay · fathomless
the blank faces dodging

to go on pretending
like driving on a flat tire

Tsegmed Tserennadmid.

When stupid people cheat you, they think you won't notice. That specific experience defines the 21c.

BIOHAZARD #TEZPOLE OF DOOM.