Saturday, September 24, 2016

ulysseish 9 - trumpery insanity trumpery insanity

our father who art not in heaven
hell blast ye
like the transpontine bison
thou spawn of a rebel
why hast thou done
this abomination before me

that antechamber of birth
that faroff time of the roses
send us bright one
sinned against the light
on the mild morning air
wrought by wind of seeds of brightness

behold the mansion
rare lamps with faint rainbow fins
raindew moisture, life essence
celestial, glistening

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

my name is for my friends

just the place for a snark.
what do i get?
a lot of yak from you.
the clocks strike thirteen.
the clouds hang low in the heavens.
smolten in our mist.
one of these days the sun's gonna come up.
and burn a hole clean through the planet.
some guy had a sign saying it was the end of the world.
when you get there you'll find yourself a cheery land.
the drugs begin to take hold.
ahh, smell those christmas trees.
they're altogether ooky.
that, my dear vance
is the understatement of the year.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

ulysseish 8 - a corpse rising saltwhite

i dislove
phenomenon and science
silently moving
across the sands of all the world
and this phenomenon
bitter death
and the other phenomenon

i shall wait
i am caught in
this burning scene
bag of corpsegas
waves and waves
a silent ship
sopping in foul brine

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

Saturday, September 17, 2016

ulysseish 7 - what lighter recreations?

our mighty mother buck
is beastly dead
hair on end
watching narrowly the
dancing motes of grasshalms

for he lies among the dead
in a state of supine repletion
genius of water vapour
aquacity with the erratic originality
tired in the morning

waterlover, drawer of water
watercarrier in passivity
you are mine
the world is mine
and she all dressed in green

the incipient intimations
of darning or knitting
for the policeaided
my heart were it more
more visible at least that

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

Sunday, September 11, 2016

mr. battery repairman

there’s the obvious
never put anything in
that is not at all times
to that in the that in the
how the how the how the
be sure one of the rest is
always completely
and is now ready
and a wart-hog

there is something
some of which there is
proved that the
before starting will cause
as soon as they
how the one of the
until the as one of the
at the in this way the
and a wart-hog

this is how it is with
with it as it may be the
in the which the rather
has a way of to be to
on the contrary of on
of the because of the
far from being but not
one has filled to the with
and a wart-hog

Saturday, September 10, 2016

ulysseish 6 - decay, mine, his and all

it was exactly seventeen o'clock
long landshadows, dispersed, lagging, languideyed
the fog has cleared off
the mystery man on the beach
with teeth as sharp as razors
walks, runs, zigzags, gallops
chucking out the rhino
bleeding profusely

to get out of heaven
i could kiss you
ah! gooblazqruk brukarchkrasht!
i'm in my pelt peace, perfect peace
deciduously launched into eternity
o! weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck?
it fills me full crocodile tears
to keep it up

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

carried aloft on the wings of a golden horse

do you know how to know what to know?
do you know how a pig digs and a dog cavorts?
their souls on display in the outstretched light of the fat moon
pennies raining on earth like brown mustard discs in the snow

herman is shaping his heart into an atlas
and casting aspersions on all horses everywhere
bring him bread made of hydrangea bushes
while you listen to the cats fish and the clocks tick

Monday, September 5, 2016

ulysseish 5 - grandfather ape

dodged a banana peel with gentle pushes of his toe
those were millions of human souls created by god in his own likeness
going slowly down the wind
boomed crashing chords

a silent jet of hayjuice
the rising column of disks
with their vulture nails
heard the hoofirons steelyringing bloo

spiked and winding cold seahorn
low in dark middle earth
there sleep the mighty dead as in life they slept

playful insects and heroes
squeezed up with the laughing
general merriment that monster
in the opera such growling

(a cento on joyce's ulysses)

my goldfish is growing a beard

get your horse and your iron lung
and don't ever show your face in this ice cream parlor again
you know i will never trust a puppet
but i am thinking of having my colon framed
and i should have my masters in theoretical flashdancing by next summer
and then i will be free to practice random acts of meanness
of course if i were ashlee simpson i would save all the children in the world
but for now i will start the day by immersing myself in a brimming bucket of filth
as the drunken aliens spill out of the ufo and beat up beatrice
i now realize the power that a he-man voice can give me
so for lunch today i had an egg salad sandwich, a pickle and three toenails
i am thoroughly sick and tired of being a motorized seahorse
which reminds me of the time oldy smeckman depressurized her grandmother
a schoolmarm from the rickety century

that is why we need godzilla

he had on the most realistic looking pig costume i've ever seen
he had a funny sense of fun
but it is not unusual to see a sasquatch in the spring
nobody hipped me to that, dude
i want to be one who goes around with a little oil can

human beings want heroes
the groovy gurus
it's time for an ass-whupping
the trick is not minding that it hurts
there are some things that time cannot mend
so say goodnight to the bad guy

Sunday, September 4, 2016

ulysseish 4 - rhabdomantic or hygrometric

the dark lady laughing to the dark
gold glowering light darkness
shining endless star darkly
wait satan a bowing dark figure god light sideways on the bloody
following his hasty heels
on the winedark waterway

words dark darkness is
a darker shadow of the first
dust darkened smitten by sunlight
light crumpled throwaway
born all in the dark wormy earth
fallen archangels flung the stars
their brows cold specks of fire

the daylight robber born to blush
in the moonlight with those earthquake hats
of leprous and winedark stones
the original sin that darkened his understanding
sifted light pale gold in contrast glided
jog jig jogged came light to earth

evil, lights shining in the darkness
darkness spirit hands were felt to flutter
a faint but increasing luminosity of
ruby light became gradually visible
the discharge of jivic rays
darkening even his own skyblue clocks

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

yielding intimations of mothlikeness

to the windward he hies, hearkening, wingining
flittering wings glistening whitelike, tanlike, paperwhite
like gleaming flecks of winglike whitish-tannish paper
hies yon and anon to the outer bounds
of the wailing and the aching and the yielding
floating, o so mothish upon the azure breeze of eternity

Saturday, September 3, 2016

ulysseish 2 - a double falciform ejection

thick carpet buck
tripping and sunny for death
killed looking while he read
in the flare of the tiny torch

the man upstairs is dead
more dead than alive
to bronze in pity
force against force

that man led me
snoring to the sun
glimpses of the moon
considerations of space

the low tide of holy
friend of yours
it is a gate
signatures of all things

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

a cento on disney movies

poison them, drown them, bash them on the head

how many times do i have to kill you?
get back in there before i break your other leg
this place is like a graveyard
it's open for destruction!

dead and meaty and red
shut up! just shut up, you idiot!

got any chloroform?
take a big drag, like this!
i've got a dirty thumb
give me that gun!

you can take him out and beat him
drown them, for all i care

they tied me in a big sack
they chopped me into firewood!
i am not a prize to be won!
you won't get away so easily!

dead and meaty and red
shut up! just shut up, you idiot!

i'll take you apart and put you back together!
don't care how you kill the little beasts
you ain't seen my temper!
forgive me a cruel chuckle

you can take him out and beat him
drown them, for all i care

gosh, that's awful!

a cento is a poetical work wholly composed of verses or passages taken from other authors, disposed in a new form or order.

ulysseish 3 - pork kidney

pain is far
floated out into the studious silence of the library of saint genevieve
a poor soul gone to heaven
world without end

dead breaths i living breathe
all or not at all
a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not comprehend
god becomes man becomes fish

i shall wait
fed and feeding brains about me: under glowlamps,
impaled, with faintly beating feelers
my soul walks with me
in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars
thought is the thought of thought

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

lurch gurch

lurch gurch
tinkling bell joe
hee haw ho
bob rimbaud

gizzard giggled
sequestered with nestor
bigapig bigapig

wallow whistle and squeak eek
the squeek ook
the squook
ork this mook




pony, the pony, my pony, o pony

it is the first day of yesterday
and the daffodils are singing with the light
with great vim and vigor, as though
a kitten has just jumped up
and captured a luminous ball of yarn from the universe

thou art a little bit boring
yet somehow exotic and yet a little pragmatic
yea, thou containest multitudes of hay and clover
sinking and plopping from behind thee
like bejeweled jewels of brown sludge

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

ulysseish 1 - proximate dawn

there's someone in the house
you must never tell
stately, plump buck
jejune like pale oak and sleepy
yes i said yes i will yes

impalmed to the gutter
swings on a rope
against a dustbin
a moonlit nightcall
yes i said yes i will yes

walked alone far, far
beyond the river
through rising fog
little wind hurried breath
yes i said yes i will yes

fireeater with faint
rainbow in your mind
waterspouts towards fire
flowerwater sea or river
yes i said yes i will yes

(a cento on joyce's ulysses.)

Sunday, August 28, 2016

they preserve the moose

down to the river they go
they are indeed a queer-looking party
everybody is going to california
you're gonna need a bigger boat
come sail away, come sail away

mermaids is mermaids
the approach of one of these animals
will cause a corpse to jump
he's dead, jim

he burst five buttons off
and tumbled in a fit
his smile was sweet and his eyes were kind
the very next day a grizzly bear ate him
now he’s sleeping with his horse

the lion sneezed and a cat leaped out of its nose
and the cat ate the rats
singing polly wooly doodle all the day
what makes the muskrat guard his musk?
things like that drive me out of my mind

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Reading The Norton Anthology of Poetry - 15

(A chronicle of an attempted read through of The Norton Anthology of Poetry - 2,182 pages and 1,828 poems.)

I'm no expert on English history but I'll wager that Queen Elizabeth I was probably more renowned for her monarching skills than she was for her poetry. A few examples of which are included here and none of which knocked my socks off. It's not clear exactly how much poetry Elizabeth wrote but there was a collection published in 1964 that weighed in at about 100 pages.

George Gascoigne apparently sought to make his way into Elizabeth's court but was never able to quite manage it. He didn't have much luck with farming and at one point even found himself in a debtor's prison. Later he took up the occupation of mercenary and according to one account, he was "a notorious atheist and godless person."

Gascoigne also wrote some plays, one of which served as a source for Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, and he wrote poetry. Norton includes three of his poems. As with Elizabeth, there was nothing here that bowled me over, although And If I Did, What Then? had kind of a nice ring to it.

atom of the cute

atom of the cute
you have deaded me
fellow sinners

escaped maniacs, sunburn, abandoned

silly, twisted boy

have a gorilla
with a wooden foot

a cloud of azure dust
next door in china

Saturday, August 20, 2016

the monster is killing everyone

those nuclear bomb tests awakened something
i am everywhere
i'm an old white woman
a monster made by intense radioactivity
i don't have any wings
i need both of my kidneys
but soon part of me will become an ancient alpha predator

see the birth of the world's most terrifying seniors!
there they are in the azure water!
i believe that they are a mutated apparition
how much terror can you stand?
the major cities of the world are being destroyed
now they're seeking reproduce!
i guess we're monster hunters now

Sunday, August 14, 2016

A Mouse Did Run

It is wise to bring some water
When one goes out to look for water.
So please move your ass.
Charlie don't surf.
Dennis surfed.
Brian couldn't surf.
It was a dark and stormy night.
As pretty as an airport.
Twinkle, twinkle, little bat.
The minister needed it to stuff a cushion.
Never trust a man with short legs.
I'll see your horse and raise you a grand piano.
Around here we don't give a man a funeral
Unless we're pretty sure he needs one.
We were all going direct to Heaven.
We don't steal cable in Heaven.
A mouse did run.
This story is done.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

jack and jill and the magi

a hard time they had of it
jack and jill went up the hill
the ways deep and the weather sharp
to fetch a pail of water
with a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness
jack fell down and broke his crown
he should be glad of another death
and jill came tumbling after
hard and bitter agony for them

jack and jill
journey of the magi - t.s. eliot


Thursday, August 11, 2016

Reading The Norton Anthology of Poetry - 14

(A chronicle of an attempted read through of The Norton Anthology of Poetry - 2,182 pages and 1,828 poems.)

It didn't end well for Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. Like several of the poets discussed thus far who were involved with the English court and specifically, in this case, with the court of King Henry VIII, intrigue and politics got the better of him. Featured here, among the four poems by Howard, is Wyatt Resteth Here. It's an epitaph for Thomas Wyatt, who was covered in the previous installment and who died a few years before Howard.

Wyatt had his problems too, being arrested when it was thought that he might be making merry with Anne Boleyn. But he was able to extricate himself from this predicament and died a few years before Howard. Who fell afoul of the regime and ended up losing his head for it. The next poet up, Anne Askew, also came to a bad end during Henry's reign, meeting her end at the stake. Her contribution is a poem written while she was in prison.