Saturday, January 7, 2012

GOOD SLEEP

I mean, a good sleep
will often bring the sunshine.
Before that, I see

what you might call pause for thought.
This little trouble of you.

========================

Texts:
P. G. Wodehouse, Right Ho, Jeeves

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Women balance life

Women are taught to
balance objects on their way
to personality.

During that first time
prostitution was the
quest for liberty. 
 
But human life, in the
upper regions of the dead
calm, is ignorance.
-----------------------------
Texts:
Charles Fort, Book of the Damned, The
A. Maude Royden, Sex And Common-Sense

A heavy drain anyway


A heavy drain on
the net will still probably
beep at anything.

Women tend to be
stabbed in the next logical
step of existence.

Anyway, soon to
be sorry.  I'm still trying
to get your bodies. 
--------------------------------- 
Texts:
The Internet, Linux HOWTOs
Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim
---------------------------------

Sunday, October 31, 2010

This grass


This grass is itself
a child with her red eyes
in the air. We see that

you belong here and that I
made my way through the wild woods

and mountains, leaving from
distant guns with perfect
ease in ecstasy.
-------------------------------------
Texts: The Island of Dr. Moreau, H.G.Wells
Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman

Monday, October 18, 2010

I Admire in you the Copies

The six gnoems below are based on two or more of the following texts: Sacred and Profane Love, by Arnold Bennett; Hamlet by Shakespeare; Stories in Verse, by Abbey Henry; Sign of Four, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; Bartleby, the Scrivener, by Herman Melville; The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas; Notes from the Underground, by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

A people sitting

A people sitting near the hollow palace.
The King: upon the silver pavement of
the heavens. I ascended upon his pride
the thing wherein the two, the summit of

the world. Rebellious hell, allegiance! But,
moreover the castles and the queen,
adieu, adieu, adieu! In this the King
consents! A goodly one; his other half.


Could I look back

Could I look back on
the track of the clear splendor
of one noble deed.

Down from the secret of the
town of curiosity.


Hypochondriac

This was clearly a
confirmed hypochondriac,
and now and then we

found that the treasure of the true
theory must be in an instant.


The tree of revenge

You have had no part
in it, so fair Eudocia,
that seemed a cascade

plunging down a life; but till
I saw the tree of revenge.


The traces of money

Another thing. Her eyes upon the more
deceived. Upon the apparition of
a ring, the apparition of a few.
The door, a palace? Now, upon the last,

in opposition to the poor. The last.
The more deceived. The beauty of the last.
The snow, the doctors, anxious to conceal
the traces of the money and surmise.


I admire in you the copies

A man affected by a sort of delight
in shedding blood. The one relating to
the evening I believe, however he
remained in his confessions; entertained

the king; addressing me, observed the strange
expression. Or, perhaps the count, returned
the pen, a secret. I admire in you,
the copies, said a voice behind the last.
=========================================

Thursday, October 7, 2010

FIVE TANKA POEMS

The aged instead

The aged instead of
dealing! An excellent thing.
His eye and ear; he

dislikes it because he had
taken a separation.

But the boldest point

But the boldest point
he made almost the central
fact of life, and then

a grave deliberation,
to the cruel part of name.

Let them feel the bite

Let them feel the bite
of his brain and kidney, a
bottle of port wine.

There must really be something
of that spirit in rising.

In the hope that all

In the hope that all
the perplexity of his
mind. We should know, and

I have brought here to prove
the assessment of window.

It was your beat

It was your beat. Name
of this mixture in my grave,
said he, not only

washing his hands. What is he
in his mind for ever seen.
-----------------------------------------------
These poems are based on: a) Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
b) A Modern Utopia, H.G. Wells

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Yet I dared not speak!

Yet I dared not speak!
I dread the events of
the external air. The now
miraculous luster of the picture

would be seen, he said, with a low
and indefinite sound
which came through a remote portion
of its meaning. I still retained

sufficient presence of mind to
avoid exciting my imagination by slow yet
certain condensation of an
atmosphere of soul.
---------------------------------------------
Texts used: a) The Fall of the House of Usher, E.A. Poe