7.20.2007

poem for July 21

imaging

hell, i wanted to float on words like farflung thunder.
ammo for taking out fluxing logograms.
riddled w presynaptic bits & piercings.
today i’m an ill-wisher on an isotherm,

cold heat from an explosion & an exploration
reading right across the tear.
anyone poisoned by words is a drunk but
no one who’s drunk is a swimmer.
eventually a metacenter sinks in raggish waves

(Hart Crane was born on July 21, 1899)

poem for July 20

Ravey drift

Micmac woven dozen aprove hawkweed benumb
asteresque sited, riddle to a point unblankified
greenskeeper; in a focus to nourish flail.
Greenswerve over to double-dyed.
Into newer light trap, as plateau, lapwing.
Even saying it might, proclaim in flicker.

Over this making: ecozoic: a gadabout roll bar.

Somethingish fine tuned from the get go
under live wire quizzical resin huddle corona.
Leaves turn in where words prep a punch lined yeah:
leaves turn out into Doppler tickled.
Introview rachitic now flatfooted rigging
varoom right at: a lifeline for key words.
Any time leaves quiet when stitching mimetic.
Natively, offload. It's a biplane skeet runtime.

(Maggie O’Sullivan was born on July 20, 1951)

7.19.2007

poem for July 19

mandate (social)

Very very plugged into the circuits that run short.
Lambent (in the middle of unillumined landing zones)
Actually each letter in each system burns.
Dollars notwithstanding, they each burn their own way.
Into each century you solder bits of misunderstanding.
Maybe all the wheels carry you closer; or they spin.
I’ve got, in any case, loads of data (charred words).
Rank & file verb lesions for communication flubs.

Maybe the wheels carry you closer; maybe they come off.
Actually each letter in each system burns.
Yes, transcription generates actual readable fever.
Aim for the heart. Because: ricochet rimes.
Keep track of betrayals (use a calendar).
Over in the older neighborhoods, they’re
very plugged into the bare wires that’re smoking.
So don’t forget, history begets a ragged poetry.
Keep track of betrayals; loyalties too; and
yes translation is always whispering rumors.

(Vladimir Mayakovsky was born on July 19, 1893)

7.16.2007

Sound Poetry Language Harm-- July 18

The APG will be performing sound poetry at Eyedrum! Do you imagine Schwitters performing the Blue Yodel as you drift off to sleep? Do you experience auditory hallucinations---perhaps half-digested foreign words accompanied by donkey grunts?
Whatever it is you're used to hearing, you probably won't hear it here. Join us for a nite where sound shamelessly takes precedence over meaning (though not necessarily....).

See here for more.

7.13.2007

poem for July 14

pointed view

we're shivering (everything runs tight & clenched;
only yr fevers know what yr temperature is) then again,
only keeping going makes a place worth shivering in;
decency locked in gasoline outrages:
you: keep focused; go on talking;

go lift up the things that make a landscape:
under them are visions falling into eyes;
terror, learning, listening;
hand me something to fight with, our one hard word;
really! while there's still the time i invented--
in the middle of being lost & being certain
events keep unraveling sentences

(Woody Guthrie was born on July 14, 1912)

poems for July 13

a Friday the 13th special:
3 poems for July 13


landscaped

we're swallowed, when a wave has such force;
over the lights other lights are a swollen electric talk;
leaving emits beginning, like a newer tear; &
even then ants eat time;

serious bizness is left inside the music;
ordinance unexploded scattered on saturated ground;
you might realize, when my reflection explodes;
in the half-light the city becomes dried out,
nailed against a scrawled note;
kennels are a good place to keep silver.
At each quiet moment laughter walks

(Wole Soyinka was born on July 13, 1934)


^^^^^^^^^

country side swiped

Just the opinion of unbolted air,
open field composition, at a bound meadow.
Having's not holding but an open hand, or, a
nest where mice emerge focused.

Clarity in the air's ordinary or impersonated.
Leaving where I am is a scene for
almost becoming or unbecoming, flower: weed.
Raining all thru sunshine, we'd
even start to move into a flowing water.

(John Clare was born on July 13, 1793)

^^^^^^^^^

dark, or

"dark, against
politic greed
this song"


really with all those children the whistle unfathomable
in moonlight set under silenced music: a
creed buried in microscopic bits;
hammered where the sky goes blank into blue;
anything is disguised, to a policeman,
really a need surfaces, for echo, untold; a
dreamed-forward scrunch of words

cases are known, eggshell moment;
ahead (new) cracked world, wasted cold water;
droll but held to firelight;
dark means a word lights up;
enfants terribles at the doorstep; got a count?
lost language bent (into the middle of finding;

(Richard Caddel was born on July 13, 1949)

7.12.2007

poem for July 12

Self-Governing (in Feverish

Painfully in the third or the 4th house of the residence
as if to enhalo meant: this rock oil snake: automatic weapon.
Basically the necropole's on the take, when you look round.
Lashings, whip song. That's what gives it those tremors
or (if you envision a lion's share) some DNA, burnt off.

Nonuse, in the middle of changed zoning.
Even if yr wheels roll over my ears, and my years.
Ragify back in those spaces we should share: the
united states of larvae; white salute, for putrefaction. And, yr
demands are blank. So they seal out the air.
Astroliths are spieling out profits in the ink blood nod.

(Pablo Neruda was born on July 12, 1904)