there are those of us who look for light
or the absence a shadow makes
a feeling inside the heart that listens
that is vacant
and it’s hard to explain
emmett took photographs of light
and stark trees standing in front of this light
vic wrote songs about it too
today it’s foggy and there is a sort of no light / greyish light
and that’s ok
because the fog is exactly what i mean
Monday, October 08, 2007
series number yellow
today i partake of yellow
chamomile tea, honey, chardonnay
light to swallow float away on
where
are other pairs of filling eyes
what cannot be contained
overflows
in pursuit of yellow
the obvious candle
in a glass, lemon overhang
Verdi’s adagio for trumpet
a watered down pernod conversation
unconsummated maps
pound cake
egg yolk
lassitude
running from yellow
eagles pierce air with brass calls
of need
hunger sleep
cadmium eyes empty of all but prey
chrome talons poised and gleaming
against blood ochre sun
the yellow phrasebook
how are you ? feeling ochre thank you
the sun shines and the sky also shines
did you know it is impolite to say yellow for hello
what colour are my eyes says the cat
we’re expecting a full moon tonight
please tell mr. smith i will meet him in the front lobby with some yellow
i wish to return these yellow apples. they are stale. please purchase some new yellow apples
yellow neighbour words in the websters ninth new collegiate dictionary
yegg yelper yenshee yenta
yardstick yataghan yeah yeanling yeah
flashcard yellow numbers
i say 8 you hold up YELLOW
the month after may is YELLOW
the smell of jasmine is YELLOW
if you add eight plus one you get YELLOW
ouch YELLOW
chamomile tea, honey, chardonnay
light to swallow float away on
where
are other pairs of filling eyes
what cannot be contained
overflows
in pursuit of yellow
the obvious candle
in a glass, lemon overhang
Verdi’s adagio for trumpet
a watered down pernod conversation
unconsummated maps
pound cake
egg yolk
lassitude
running from yellow
eagles pierce air with brass calls
of need
hunger sleep
cadmium eyes empty of all but prey
chrome talons poised and gleaming
against blood ochre sun
the yellow phrasebook
how are you ? feeling ochre thank you
the sun shines and the sky also shines
did you know it is impolite to say yellow for hello
what colour are my eyes says the cat
we’re expecting a full moon tonight
please tell mr. smith i will meet him in the front lobby with some yellow
i wish to return these yellow apples. they are stale. please purchase some new yellow apples
yellow neighbour words in the websters ninth new collegiate dictionary
yegg yelper yenshee yenta
yardstick yataghan yeah yeanling yeah
flashcard yellow numbers
i say 8 you hold up YELLOW
the month after may is YELLOW
the smell of jasmine is YELLOW
if you add eight plus one you get YELLOW
ouch YELLOW
daphne’s hair burns yellow
as she blazes
her call
down the branches shrills
goddess into laurel
tree tear off in the fire
heated rivers striate fields
scorched hornets nest strands
of wheat burnish skies with
simmergold sizzled sheaves
her call
down the branches shrills
goddess into laurel
tree tear off in the fire
heated rivers striate fields
scorched hornets nest strands
of wheat burnish skies with
simmergold sizzled sheaves
a siren's villanelle
a siren’s villanelle
what compels a tangle
hurricane shouts over lullaby
turbulence troubles a rhythm
come for me in the deep, still water
follow the nature of shifting sand
what compels a tangle
i am knotted in seagrass and anemones
strip yourself bare to enter the ocean
turbulence troubles a rhythm
disguised as downpour i fell against your window
you pressed your hand against the shining wet
what compels a tangle
wind builds waves to crescendo
abalone shells glisten in the swells
turbulence troubles a rhythm
come before night pulls down the sun
swim, swim toward me now
what compels
a tangle
turbulence troubles
a rhythm
what compels a tangle
hurricane shouts over lullaby
turbulence troubles a rhythm
come for me in the deep, still water
follow the nature of shifting sand
what compels a tangle
i am knotted in seagrass and anemones
strip yourself bare to enter the ocean
turbulence troubles a rhythm
disguised as downpour i fell against your window
you pressed your hand against the shining wet
what compels a tangle
wind builds waves to crescendo
abalone shells glisten in the swells
turbulence troubles a rhythm
come before night pulls down the sun
swim, swim toward me now
what compels
a tangle
turbulence troubles
a rhythm
abt eggs & eggscrement
fold nto bowl
n o n s e n s e sizzles
ovr easy wth a side of whys
staggering works of yolk
breaking genie US
n o n s e n s e sizzles
ovr easy wth a side of whys
staggering works of yolk
breaking genie US
wolf
wolf
an ocean to his singing
octaves dampening my bones
the sand shifts as the waves rock
the dock forth and back to worship
each note as it rolls
along stone covered sea bottom
an open window, an open wing, an echo
the storm rushes through
made of sound, of water
as if there are no such beings as humans
allowed to exist
not with a voice like his
an ocean to his singing
octaves dampening my bones
the sand shifts as the waves rock
the dock forth and back to worship
each note as it rolls
along stone covered sea bottom
an open window, an open wing, an echo
the storm rushes through
made of sound, of water
as if there are no such beings as humans
allowed to exist
not with a voice like his
flight
i want no structure no
bridge over to be suspended
between absolutes and mid air
i seem to land on broken
things cutting claws on jagged rock
to walk you must love solid ground not
struggle against forces that weigh you
the bubble, the leaf, the ripple
over water, the moving
shadow, the shift
of feathers on
open wing
bridge over to be suspended
between absolutes and mid air
i seem to land on broken
things cutting claws on jagged rock
to walk you must love solid ground not
struggle against forces that weigh you
the bubble, the leaf, the ripple
over water, the moving
shadow, the shift
of feathers on
open wing
Thursday, October 04, 2007
occasional vees and bees
[another workshop exercise to discuss remarkable letters; has prompted me to begin the above series, photos of the letters v and b as depicted in nature and human nature]
V voluptuous velvet heart shaped chocolate box
vivacious mosquito killer buzzzap arc electroredblue
vee - red orange sunrise popsicle melt of heat between
b chew the mint leaves, taste, chew, taste
seagreen ocean gathering waves
bee - scarbob cufflinks lacquer reflected
hum of beetles clicking against june brick
green petals plucked from a burgundy tea rose
vivacious mosquito killer buzzzap arc electroredblue
vee - red orange sunrise popsicle melt of heat between
b chew the mint leaves, taste, chew, taste
seagreen ocean gathering waves
bee - scarbob cufflinks lacquer reflected
hum of beetles clicking against june brick
green petals plucked from a burgundy tea rose
CUNT
[inspired by a workshop exercise to write about a single word]
CUNT
begins with a hard c followed by a guttural staccato one syllable nasal grunt and ends in an explosive t gasp for breath.
the convex consonant pushes itself into the concave vowel which opens itself to an erect t.
the word CUNT is powerful, misappropriated as an insult. it shocks and evokes emotion, it’s political, sexual, and taboo, evoking secret pleasures we’re not supposed to talk about. as a noun, CUNT has 16 different meanings.
[if you haven’t seen Eve Ensler’s the Vagina Monologues, you should go see it or read it. Ensler acts out real women’s stories of intimacy, vulnerability and sexual self discovery]
Cunt: A Cultural History
http://www.matthewhunt.com/cunt/index.html
begins with a hard c followed by a guttural staccato one syllable nasal grunt and ends in an explosive t gasp for breath.
the convex consonant pushes itself into the concave vowel which opens itself to an erect t.
the word CUNT is powerful, misappropriated as an insult. it shocks and evokes emotion, it’s political, sexual, and taboo, evoking secret pleasures we’re not supposed to talk about. as a noun, CUNT has 16 different meanings.
[if you haven’t seen Eve Ensler’s the Vagina Monologues, you should go see it or read it. Ensler acts out real women’s stories of intimacy, vulnerability and sexual self discovery]
Cunt: A Cultural History
http://www.matthewhunt.com/cunt/index.html
To Shave or Not to Shave
[based on a few requests to post, after my discussion of the word "cunt" in my poetry workshop; originally published in John Barlow's "Pyschic Rotunda IV/V", with a little help from Shakespeare]
To shave or not to shave,--that is the question:--
Whether tis nobler in the pussy to suffer
The nicks and ingrown hairs caused by dull blades,
or to take razor against a sea of pubic troubles,
And by shaving end them?—To let them die,--to choke cunnilingualists,--
No more; and by not shaving to say we end
The cunt-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wisht. To cut,--to shave;--
To shave! perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that smooth dream what dreams may come,
When admirers have shuffled off this bare and mortal cunt,
Must give us pause: there’s the fear
That makes a hairy pussy of so long life:
For who would bear the nicks and cuts of blades,
The shaver’s wrong, the proud woman’s hairy,
The pangs of despised hair, the lover’s delay,
The insolence of unshaven pussy, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unshaved takes,
When she herself might her coitus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat over a hairy snatch?
But that the dread of hair in the teeth,--
The undiscover’d wiry pubis from whose bourn
No sexual adventurer returns,--puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those hairs we have
Than shave the ingrowns that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of smoothed pussy
Is sickled o’er with the dark cast of follicles;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their razors turn awry,
And lose the blade of action,—No longer soft you now!
The fair Ophelia!—Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my skin remembered.
To shave or not to shave,--that is the question:--
Whether tis nobler in the pussy to suffer
The nicks and ingrown hairs caused by dull blades,
or to take razor against a sea of pubic troubles,
And by shaving end them?—To let them die,--to choke cunnilingualists,--
No more; and by not shaving to say we end
The cunt-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wisht. To cut,--to shave;--
To shave! perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that smooth dream what dreams may come,
When admirers have shuffled off this bare and mortal cunt,
Must give us pause: there’s the fear
That makes a hairy pussy of so long life:
For who would bear the nicks and cuts of blades,
The shaver’s wrong, the proud woman’s hairy,
The pangs of despised hair, the lover’s delay,
The insolence of unshaven pussy, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unshaved takes,
When she herself might her coitus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat over a hairy snatch?
But that the dread of hair in the teeth,--
The undiscover’d wiry pubis from whose bourn
No sexual adventurer returns,--puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those hairs we have
Than shave the ingrowns that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of smoothed pussy
Is sickled o’er with the dark cast of follicles;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their razors turn awry,
And lose the blade of action,—No longer soft you now!
The fair Ophelia!—Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my skin remembered.