Thursday, July 31, 2008
Allwhere and Everyways
is the same
do the being
be change
knots fill your soul
locked up tight
pick me
create crevasses
douse downpours
erase emanations
find flickers
go get gone
I am are you art we they aren't
ain't it grand
my
eyes
are
closed
OPEN
do the being
be change
knots fill your soul
locked up tight
pick me
create crevasses
douse downpours
erase emanations
find flickers
go get gone
I am are you art we they aren't
ain't it grand
my
eyes
are
closed
OPEN
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Make Room
make room for me
between the trees and mysteries
there is a little space
you will find it
just look carefully
just look with your hands
and feel with your head
and think with your heart
and know with your body
and you will find it
make room for me
between the trees and mysteries
there is a little space
you will find it
just look carefully
just look with your hands
and feel with your head
and think with your heart
and know with your body
and you will find it
make room for me
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
a gift to me
So many gifts to bestow unto me
they're all hidden
under a secret tree
never uncovered
until the next time
my true love
sends a gift to me
Until the next time
my true love
sends a gift to me
will it be silver
or gold
will it be diamonds
or coals
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be rubies
or dust
will it be copper
or rust
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be crystals
or plums
will it be secrets
or drums
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be ergot
or lyme
will it be ribbons
or thyme
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be able
or kind
will it be whiskey
or wine
will it be petals
or brine
will it be woolen
or twine
Oh what will my true love send to me
they're all hidden
under a secret tree
never uncovered
until the next time
my true love
sends a gift to me
Until the next time
my true love
sends a gift to me
will it be silver
or gold
will it be diamonds
or coals
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be rubies
or dust
will it be copper
or rust
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be crystals
or plums
will it be secrets
or drums
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be ergot
or lyme
will it be ribbons
or thyme
Oh what will my love send to me
will it be able
or kind
will it be whiskey
or wine
will it be petals
or brine
will it be woolen
or twine
Oh what will my true love send to me
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Halfdrunk Pome on the Glory of the Streetscapes of Time and Memory and Montreal when you and Daivd and Ren were there
another long
stickyhot
walking under
Montreal sun when i
passed that spot again and i
had almost forgotten until
just now
how i almost lost you in
the concrete and the crowds there
was a certain music only
we (four) could hear it and
it swelled inside my lungs and inside my
eyes
it was another
afternoon you were
so much in
your new dress and i'd always
wanted you and
you always halfway knew it and it
made you feel so
strong and so
alive and i
would have
changed my name
for you then, or
joined a
cult,
if you'd asked me to--
i couldn't help it,
anyone would have--
it was magic
we were alive with
every moment of
possibility and you
shimmered in the
heat of the day with
life and all its
endless permutations when we
walked up the
mountain and into the park--
the boisterous caribbean picnic the
dog dragging a lawn chair on his
leash and his tongue hanging out and
laughing too, he knew, like
us that that it was
funny he was
being a clown and the
family sitting down the hill from
us while i read your
complicated
musings on Virginia Woolf and
the hot young half-naked
college kids playing
frisbee it was all
alive the Lac du
Castors was alive with its orange
goldfish and its green
algae the pavillion was
alive the city itself with
breathing and alive it was
everything that was
you in your new dress and
now,
a week later to the
minute,
mostly drunk and
alone, i had to
stop on ste. catherine
under the
strip club sign and
write this all down.
stickyhot
walking under
Montreal sun when i
passed that spot again and i
had almost forgotten until
just now
how i almost lost you in
the concrete and the crowds there
was a certain music only
we (four) could hear it and
it swelled inside my lungs and inside my
eyes
it was another
afternoon you were
so much in
your new dress and i'd always
wanted you and
you always halfway knew it and it
made you feel so
strong and so
alive and i
would have
changed my name
for you then, or
joined a
cult,
if you'd asked me to--
i couldn't help it,
anyone would have--
it was magic
we were alive with
every moment of
possibility and you
shimmered in the
heat of the day with
life and all its
endless permutations when we
walked up the
mountain and into the park--
the boisterous caribbean picnic the
dog dragging a lawn chair on his
leash and his tongue hanging out and
laughing too, he knew, like
us that that it was
funny he was
being a clown and the
family sitting down the hill from
us while i read your
complicated
musings on Virginia Woolf and
the hot young half-naked
college kids playing
frisbee it was all
alive the Lac du
Castors was alive with its orange
goldfish and its green
algae the pavillion was
alive the city itself with
breathing and alive it was
everything that was
you in your new dress and
now,
a week later to the
minute,
mostly drunk and
alone, i had to
stop on ste. catherine
under the
strip club sign and
write this all down.
born of the fire-- words and music by smktgr and winnipegasus
(in techno)
Born of the fire
i am a godking,
master of the universe
master of all things,
born of the fire,
born in the burning blaze
see me coming
out of the purple haze
born of the fire
just like louis riel
born to revolt
and rebel
casting that mumbo jumbo
voodoo spell...
Born of the fire
i am a godking,
master of the universe
master of all things,
born of the fire,
born in the burning blaze
see me coming
out of the purple haze
born of the fire
just like louis riel
born to revolt
and rebel
casting that mumbo jumbo
voodoo spell...
Ray Phathom
I've posted Chapter 1, Part 1 of my sci-fi serial on a new blog.
If interested, you can check it out here:
http://rayphathom.blogspot.com/
It's adventure sci-fi a-la Buck Rogers, Doc Savage, The Shadow - just an advanced warning for those expecting something a little more "literary". It's still good fun though!
Thanks.
If interested, you can check it out here:
http://rayphathom.blogspot.com/
It's adventure sci-fi a-la Buck Rogers, Doc Savage, The Shadow - just an advanced warning for those expecting something a little more "literary". It's still good fun though!
Thanks.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tree and Pont Jacques Cartier, ongoing...
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
ranier maria rilke
says:
"have patience with everything unresolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves
don't search for the answers
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them
and the point is, to live everything
live the questions now"
"have patience with everything unresolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves
don't search for the answers
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them
and the point is, to live everything
live the questions now"
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I'm a fan of Marimekko...this is interesting, I like this designers work(bottom right). (below it's described from an add in Crate and Barrel)
Finn fine art. Instant international art installation via Marimekko ® of Finland artist fabric panels and our clever hanging hardware that un-frames this novel un-art. "Hetkia/Moments" (2003) by Maija Louekari draws the viewer into a b/w/grey urban street scene. A Maija Louekari design from Marimekko of Finland
untitled
she’s been left lonely
now,
for so many nights
fever as her lullaby
and too much room for thinking
in a bed for one
but it doesn’t matter much
once she sleeps
where
loneliness unleashes the beast
of bleeding hearts
and west wind
that blows her echo
far past where she’s been
and
there will be hell to pay
if he ever sees her again.
now,
for so many nights
fever as her lullaby
and too much room for thinking
in a bed for one
but it doesn’t matter much
once she sleeps
where
loneliness unleashes the beast
of bleeding hearts
and west wind
that blows her echo
far past where she’s been
and
there will be hell to pay
if he ever sees her again.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
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