Monday, March 29, 2010

S.B.T. 247



vibration



more fable more fallible
morphological dither
the envelope drape
shape to consider

a top tier of mist dismissed in mere prism
condensed or expanded
just as u planned it
or planted a
just thus
vibrational rhythm
meme in the stream of a dream magnetism



Sunday, March 28, 2010

S.B.T. 246

'h'


sirius sirius why are u so serious

in the x o sphere

i wonder how u hear

dark outlines in your ghostly ear

its making me delirious


a crysp golden croissant sunrise

pillow scattering light w flakes

over midday heart plateaus of the

night

the blue moon behind burlap sways

a crosshatch waltzing end of days

distress


sirius replies:

"i'm twice as bright as canopus,

allow whatever you express, and yes if i digress

to tell you more you hear me less"


back 2 eaven:


that 'h' was giving me holy hell so i threw it out

some infinite voice said 'wo do you tink u r? itssss screwing up everytinginging'

i said 'listen, the neediest can ave mine'

'oh thank you' laughed ha ha ha




Thursday, March 25, 2010

S.B.T. 245

thoughtlife




many people wearing loincloths and taffy wings

a sign of discomfort unwinds the thorn wreath apparent

crowding a small hut, but teepee cooking soup

i ching, said the chinese word for 'people' in finer nuance are 'thought(s'

as in, "the field is peopled with vinery, blossoms and flesh eating plants"

"what do you mean? What kind of a person r u?!"

or vice versa verse a vice

and that became a pen name

as in, "from the desk of Versa Vice"


i'm certain when you throw it up it is because of some illgotten forgotten

cause, shared by all brothers in biledom throughout eternity domini

assuming more than a container or a barrel could hold it together

as in, "speeding through a barrel of galaxies"

when you eat ass backwards after barbi q

its nobodys fault domino san andreas

blame or no blame it is all the same

lets just find a room.


a good enough reason reason to be apprehensive

of the hairdryer freediving

thru mysterious animations, while plugged and

lolling in a bubble bath with a glasse

of champagne syncopated swish under your nose splashing

your 2 feet 2 a scratchy ay em station mambo

in your solitary rectangle at the fates motel with a neon sign blinking

outside on a stormy night of slanting rain


a roo wide enough 2 not knock a knot into

a room through which u can

move w/o crashing a vase off a table

or net backflap cologne osmote from somebodys neck

and walk crunching alliterations crackling alienations

like potato chips under shiny black shoes

your mind is a oom with just one person in it

so quiet, with blue and clouds painted oer just floating

before an entire silhouette diagonal switches the digital radio on






Tuesday, March 23, 2010

S.B.T. 244

turn around



your daughter or son is a brain child

pinkdimple daring and soft wild

a giggling grotto in a shadowy skull

rocking the cradle and sleeping past null


and where are you going

my little one little one

where are you going

my baby my own


you notice the drapery folds at the start

some candle drifts through when they're drawn apart

those lights draw pearl trumpets on your jingly mo beel

he stretches his fingers and feels the wheel


look someone wrote on this mound of clay

sculpted a mould tata work ohoh play

she swings, pointing toes toward the sky

and singing a rock rock-a-bye


baby on the tree top

when the wind blows


the cradle will rock


a bye


a bye


a bye




here is a kodak commercial from the 60's which was selling photography, not that it
needed to be 'sold', but it uses music and images to achieve the attention/emotion and
then whollops the experience with the ad at the end. a very brilliant concept for selling.
but kind of pushy over the top.
next post coming up "why do i care about advertisements' (maybe)

Monday, March 22, 2010

S.B.T. 243

i forgive them, spielberg and hanks, for "pacific". i can usually find some convoluted reasoning for forgiving just about any everything. in this case it is the drama of the spiel and the hankies mopping up tears.

their fathers after all, probably fought in that war. and the dpp will find a coalition source illuminati or two to fund such projects. and then, if it was not so, i would not know what i know


forgiveness is a mighty word.


Thursday, March 18, 2010

S.B.T. 242

war movies always have the same kind of music


the echo of reveille horns, barra pum pum pum drums, slow tuneful strings.

twists on the 'Band of Brothers' theme

you'd think film composers would want to come up with something different.

you'd think the films actually are extra-large commercials for the military.

you'd think soldiers couldn't possibly know beforehand,

how badly the skin would peel off rot from footsores

and how much pumping bullets would blast the psyche.

that no one would want to volunteer for duty

if they knew how much time they would spend removing bodies

or in an eternity without one


you'd think these frontline conflict genre movies would want to come up with some different kind of background music

than the damn swollen crescendos, symphonic auld lang syne and explosion sound effects,

you'd think some blues, at least, would be different. some blues behind the automatic weapon rat tattering

you'd think one time just once a hero could be the coward who defected

you'd think nothing of letting small children be exposed to it

of not knowing if you'll ever see him again,

of waving goodbye to the troopers,

you'd only think 'how brave how honorable'

if the dpp had it their way. and they almost always do.


you'd think there's not much you can do but follow


you'd think the word of one objector is worth much more than 'freedom'

more loosely defined than camouflage

if they didn't always have that same kind of background music



the assyrian god of war


Tuesday, March 16, 2010

S.B.T. 241

Talk about you.


You, there, glad to see you
scratching your head
there, brimming with
sparkling brilliance
like a glass of waterfall
there, you know what
i'm talking about
a dream goat shepherd a
capricornus by chance
leaps to a summit on all fours

a gale force wind
behind sisyphus
dislodges his burden and merits
the volume of boulders and slant of steep hills
You, there, awesome and untamable
tigers tale comet come from where
innocent galaxies infinitely collide
and trails of spitfire stardust glide
on spiral inspiration where,
there, wonder surely rules the air





(for St. Patricks Day)