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You know, posting in this thread feels like organ donation. But I’ll trust that there aren’t pirates out there, surfing dino jr sites and infringing on my property.
fruit flies circling
ides of March unruly
betrayed September’s tepid glances
oh please tell me,
> what were my chances
astral projection
astral rejection
flame thrower in the night
but he’s afraid of heights
residual shares, residual cares
payback’s a bitch
flip that dirty switchAgain, I want to take time to thank everyone who has posted to this thread. I also want to thank the constabulary that allows myself and others to express themselves in such ways as we do here, a most unlikely place for such offerings.
. Courtesy of the vast tastes, ideas and experiences each person owns and is willing to share at FS, I feel as though I have grown after a fashion. Whether someone chooses to focus on what is held in esteem or admiration versus the sodden weightlessness of contention or self-interest is not essential.
The most important event is that we had the opportunity to be introduced. The most grating or silent person encountered owns the chance of being a teacher. Recognition and hospitality are shown in ways that often derive from the viewer’s frame of reference, with little consideration for the background or history of the imagemaker.
Further, who can hope to feel or think in the same fashion as someone whose only ability to express themselves is carried forth in the form of electronic correspondence? After all, you exercise the sense of touch, when a finger touches a key or mouse button, correct? Is it possible to use this method for allowing a person unknown miles away to feel anything the sender intends? Perhaps, the sense of sight allows a clearer understanding of what touch can make available, provided a venue or vehicle is used.
Luckily, we of the modern, electronic age can physically do with ease what writers, composers, musicians and artists stuggled with for centuries: deliver a message of thought and feeling by physical means. Is this to say the other methods are less valid or useful today? I still have a dandy of a time getting a person to believe how someone can run up and down on a plane without resorting to time-honored methods. Can the rain really whisper on its own? How can a person look "hot" without a way to make sense of such language?
My pen alone, or a keyboard, or a thought, or a feeling, each and of its own accord only take part in both a message’s delivery and interpretation. The combining of such elements, along with the artisian’s intended and possible reactions, play major roles in communicating.Finally, an often neglected role in the chain is that of a responsible auidience. Is the patron happy to make a purchase? Will the …"landlord become the next tenant’s guest" as John Dryden so provocatively put it? Acknowledging the worth of nothing more than the artist’s time and efforts of sharing a minute piece of themselves is preferred to the mishandling of critiques whose values are determined by convenience, instinct, or blindness.
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This poem is an excerpt from the forthcoming book "A Beer on Every Page" by Exene Cervenka.
Month Any 1983
Ritually speaking I’d rather be sailing.
No. I’d rather listen to Pierce’s piercing
voice with no one to speak to alone in my motel
room stuck with two broken cigarettes. Listening
to them build a new house that’s already been.A man and his immature female sidekick order
what appears to be ugly duckling, with a side
order of ugly dumplings. The waitress drops a dish on the floor ducking from an imaginary nazi.
There goes the kreplatach. Oh oh. Spaghetti O’s
We went bowling and I found a ball that had
"Boris" etched into it. It was too heavy but I
used it anyway.Poetry 4
This one’s for you
Koo,koo kea,schew
Cop^aplea for Timbuktu
Brave-a-baby
Horse or two
Oasis of tea and poppyYou may or may not have read this one (answers on a postcard etc if you know where its from)
I’ll post something of my own later in the week….There was a young man from Japan…
Just Kidding <img>
It’s a Raymond Chandler evening
At the end of someone’s day
I’m standing in my pocket
And I’m slowly turning greyI remember what I told you
But I can’t remember why
And the yellow leaves are falling
In a spiral from the skyThere’s a body on the railings
That I can’t identify
And I’d like to reassure you
But I’m not that kind of guyIt’s a Raymond Chandler evening
And the pavements are all wet
And I’m waiting in the shadows
Because it hasn’t happened……yet.
And here’s one from our friend Mr. Waits…
The Ocean doesn’t want me today
But I’ll be back tomorrow to play
And the strangles will take me
Down deep in their brine
The mischievous braingels
Down into the endless blue wine
I’ll open my head and let out
All of my time
I’d love to go drowning
And to stay and to stay
But the ocean doesn’t want me today
I’ll go in up to here
It can’t possibly hurt
All they will find is my beer
and my shirt
A rip tide is raging
And the life guard is away
But the ocean…
The Ocean doesn’t want me todayHere is an older one
Love was like a rain drop in my heart;
the dull snow bled;
a drop that watered the aged lips of inertia;Falling on the empty glass of lonelyness;
filling with sounds of pleasure
the spring of the year;
The sunrise bloomed; the mist forgot its sorrow…The petals are sad;the expression melancholys;
The palms of the innocent are full of needle pricks;
The face of the simple is graven;Inside the box hand in hand with despair
the silky fibre of lust
bables with her breath;It was death the liquid that watered her
the transformed temtation;
It was the arrow that bled her heart;
which deprived her of the drop of eternal reign…Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
I really like this beautiful Poem
Simple but Beautiful
I had this Poem on an album
But that Album disappeared somewhere
Hope to find it some day againI hope u enjoyed my 1st contributing to this Art Forum
Confused but happy, I think
Zea in Heaven
</font><blockquote><font>quote:</font><table><tr><td><table><tr><td>Originally posted by The Risen Lord:
<strong>Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp Tjielp
I really like this beautiful Poem
Simple but Beautiful
I had this Poem on an album
But that Album disappeared somewhere
Hope to find it some day again
</strong></td></tr></table></td></tr></table></blockquote>It’s a poem by dutch poet Jan Hanlo, someone called Tom America released an album called ‘Tjielp tjielp’, full of Hanlo’s poems put to music, it’s a fine album, I think it’s the one you’re looking for…
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