2003-05-09

Land
   { Horses
      Land of a Thousand Dances
      La Mer (de) }


                 --Patti Smith

The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea
From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating
Another boy was sliding up the hallway
He merged perfectly with the hallway,
He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway

The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted to run,
but the movie kept moving as planned
The boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker,
He drove it in, he drove it home, he drove it deep in Johnny
The boy disappeared, Johnny fell on his knees,
started crashing his head against the locker,
started crashing his head against the locker,
started laughing hysterically

When suddenly Johnny gets the feeling he's being surrounded by
horses, horses, horses, horses
coming in in all directions
white shining silver studs with their nose in flames,
He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses.
Do you know how to pony like bony maroney
Do you know how to twist, well it goes like this, it goes like this
Baby mash potato, do the alligator, do the alligator
And you twist the twister like your baby sister
I want your baby sister, give me your baby sister, dig your baby sister
Rise up on her knees, do the sweet pea, do the sweet pee pee,
Roll down on her back, got to lose control, got to lose control,
Got to lose control and then you take control,
Then you're rolled down on your back and you like it like that,
Like it like that, like it like that, like it like that,
Then you do the watusi, yeah do the watusi
Life is filled with holes, Johnny's laying there, his sperm coffin
Angel looks down at him and says, “Oh, pretty boy,
Can't you show me nothing but surrender ?”
Johnny gets up, takes off his leather jacket,
Taped to his chest there's the answer,
You got pen knives and jack knives and
Switchblades preferred, switchblades preferred
Then he cries, then he screams, saying
Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain
And I fill my nose with snow and go Rimbaud,
Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud,
And go Johnny go, and do the watusi, oh do the watusi

There's a little place, a place called space
It's a pretty little place, it's across the tracks,
Across the tracks and the name of the place is you like it like that,
You like it like that, you like it like that, you like it like that,
And the name of the band is the
Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes,
Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes

Baby calm down, better calm down,
In the night, in the eye of the forest
There's a mare black and shining with yellow hair,
I put my fingers through her silken hair and found a stair,
I didn't waste time, I just walked right up and saw that
up there -- there is a sea
up there -- there is a sea
up there -- there is a sea
the sea's the possibility
There is no land but the land


(up there is just a sea of possibilities)
There is no sea but the sea

(up there is a wall of possibilities)
There is no keeper but the key

(up there there are several walls of possibilities)
Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities.

(up there)
I seize the first possibility, is the sea around me
I was standing there with my legs spread like a sailor

(in a sea of possibilities) I felt his hand on my knee

(on the screen)
And I looked at Johnny and handed him a branch of cold flame

(in the heart of man)
The waves were coming in like Arabian stallions
Gradually lapping into sea horses
He picked up the blade and he pressed it against his smooth throat

(the spoon)
And let it deep in

(the veins)
Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities
It started hardening
Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities
It started hardening in my hand
And I felt the arrows of desire

I put my hand inside his cranium, oh we had such a brainiac-amour
But no more, no more, I gotta move from my mind to the area


(go Rimbaud go Rimbaud go Rimbaud)
And go Johnny go and do the watusi,
Yeah do the watusi, do the watusi ...
Shined open coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling
Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining
Your nerves, your mane of the black shining horse
And my fingers all entwined through the air,
I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers,

(I feel it I feel it I feel it I feel it)
The hairs were like wires going through my body
I I that's how I
that's how I
I died

(at that Tower of Babel they knew what they were after)

(they knew what they were after)
[Everything on the current] moved up
I tried to stop it, but it was too warm, too unbelievably smooth,
Like playing in the sea, in the sea of possibility, the possibility
Was a blade, a shiny blade, I hold the key to the sea of possibilities
There's no land but the land

looked at my hands, and there's a red stream
that went streaming through the sands like fingers,
like arteries, like fingers

(how much fits between the eyes of a horse?)
He lay, pressing it against his throat (your eyes)
He opened his throat (your eyes)
His vocal chords started shooting like (of a horse) mad pituitary glands
The scream he made (and my heart) was so high (my heart) pitched that nobody heard,
No one heard that cry,
No one heard (Johnny) the butterfly flapping in his throat,

(His fingers)
Nobody heard, he was on that bed, it was like a sea of jelly,
And so he seized the first

(his vocal chords shot up)

(possibility)

(like mad pituitary glands)
It was a black tube, he felt himself disintegrate

(there is nothing happening at all)
and go inside the black tube, so when he looked out into the steep
saw this sweet young thing (Fender one)
Humping on the parking meter, leaning on the parking meter

In the sheets
there was a man
dancing around
to the simple
Rock & roll
song

x

2003-05-08

"Why don't you ever use your strength on me?" she said.
"Because love means renouncing strength," said Franz softly.
Sabina realized two things: first, that Franz's words were noble and just;
                                     second, that they disqualified him from her love life.

--Milan Kundera (from The Unbearable Lightness of Being)

Like every other before and after I prod tender places, willing memory resurgent. Kundera and Daphne got it right. Dark and swollen together a gathering sound: rivers burgeoning with storm and flood, bruises flowering purple-black. Noel in my head grins, "sex and violence!" Here is a Raphaelite Adonis in white bonds blindfolded; there is a teenaged businesswoman who tatooed the outlines of the last beating onto her chest. Re-read the Screwfly Solution in less of a Handmaid light and laughed. "Mating with her head" seemed like such a good idea at the time.

. . .

Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?

--W.B. Yeats, No Second Troy

last

.

2003-05-07

ten times happy me
     - I looked them up.

XXXVI.

Let me confess that we two must be twain
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help, by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a separable spite,
Which, though it alter not love’s sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
But do not so; I love thee in such sort
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

--W.S.

                                   and someday I too will make a pilgrimage to see this:



(click timestamp link for yesterday)



     Great streets of silence led away
     To neighborhoods of pause;
     Here was no notice, no dissent,
     No universe, no laws.

     By clocks 't was morning, and for night
     The bells at distance called;
     But epoch had no basis here,
     For period exhaled.

     --E.D.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up.
we were both scared of the dark

2003-05-06

What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.

--vintage dead white middle-class female despair
from The Eye Mote

Please remove outside links to little match girl. Thank you.

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The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
--ezra

2003-05-05

but any way you
slice it I'm thinking I could
use the time alone
-
and it was so very long ago
but fingertip to fingertip
-
the longest sentence
in the world is still waiting
for its lightening bolt
today we are only whatall is nice about us
today we turned on in the blue light of dawn
and made love
and you were not dot dot dot
waiting for me to complete you
and it was like i just forgot
to measure everything that i do

we woke up with the notion
that enough is not enough without more
and then we pushed with one motion
like the ocean heaves a wave at the shore
and you were not dot dot dot
leaning forward expectantly
and i was not in such a rush
to insure my autonomy

today we are only whatall is nice about us


--Ani D.
Women can enter into friendship with a man perfectly well; but in order to maintain it the aid of a little physical antipathy is perhaps required.
--Friedrich Nietzsche (in his fascist boots)