chris murray's *Texfiles*

"A note to Pound in heaven: Only one mistake, Ezra! You should have talked to women" --George Oppen, _Twenty Six Fragments_





Archives:





xoxo Hey, E-Mail Me! xoxo







ManY PoETiKaL HaTs LisT:

Holly's Pirate-girl Hat, chrismurray in a straw hat, Michael Helsem's Gray Wyvern NOLA Fedora. Duchamp's Rrose Selavy's flirting hat. Max Ernst's Hats of The Hat Makes the Man. Jordan Davis' The Hat! poetry. hks' smelly head baseball cap. Samuel Beckett's Lucky's Black bowler hat, giving his oration on what's questionable in mankind, in *Waiting for 'God-ot'*. my friend John Phillips's 1969 dove gray fedora w/ wild feather. Bob Dylan's mystery lover's Panama Hat. Bob Creeley's Black Mountain Felt Boater Hat. Duke Ellington's Satin Top Hat. Acorn Hats of Tree. Freud's 1950 City Fedora. Joseph Brodsky's Sailor Cap. Harry K Stammer's Copper Hat Hell. Lewis LaCook's bowler hat(s). Tom Beckett's Bad Hair Day Furry Pimp Hat. Daughter Holly's black beret. harry k stammer's fez. Cat in the Hat's Hat & best hat, Googling Texfiles: crocheted hat with flames. Harry K Stammer's tinseled berets. Tex's 10 gallon Gary Cooper felt Stetson cowboy hat. Jordan Davis's fedora. Dali's High-heel Shoe Hat. Harry K Stammer's en-blog LAPD Hat & aluminum baseball cap. cap'n caps. NY-Yankees caps. the HKS-in-person-caps are blue or green no logos nor captions. Ma Skanky Possum 10's nighttime cap. moose antler hat. propeller beenie hat. doo rag. knit face mask hat. Bob Dylan's & photographer Laziz Hamani's panama hats. Mark Weiss's Publisher's Hat. Rebecca Loudon's Seattle-TX-Hats'n'boots.




Ever-Evolving Links:


Silliman's Links
Dominic Rivron
Unidentified
Br Tom @ One & Plainer
Dan Waber: ars poetica anthology
Dan Waber: altered books anthology
chris daniels: Notes to a Fellow Traveller
Chris Daniels: Toward an Anti-Capitalist Poetry
David Daniels: The Gates Of Paradise
subterranean poets: Beijing Poetry Group
Charles Alexander/Chax Press: Chaxblog
Headlines Poetry: the latest weblog entries
Henry Gould's AlephoeBooks
Julie Choffel's Understory
Tom Murphy's former one
Jean Vengua's New Okir
Roger Pao's Asian-American Poetry
Tom Lisk: Oilcloth and Linoleum
Kevin Doran
Reb Livingston's Cackling Jackal Blog
Janet Holmes: Humanophone
Lorna Dee Cervantes
Mark Young's gamma ways
Brian Campbell: Out of the Woodwork
Shanna's DIY Publishing Blog
Galatea Resurrects: a Poetry Review
Tom Beckett
John Sakkis: BOTH BOTH
New Francois Luong:Voices in Utter Dark, KaBlow!sm is...
Old Francois Luong: Voices in Utter Dark
Margin Walker: Andrew Lundwall
Free Space Comix: the latest BK Stefans blog
Adam Lockhart, Experimentalist Composer
Antic View: Alan Bramhall & Jeff Harrison
lookouchblog: Jessica Smith
MiPOradio
Web Log -- Charles Bernstein
Google Poem Generator: Leevi Lehto
Marie Mutsuki Mockett
Feral Scholar: Stan Goff
worderos: Tom Beckett
In Galatea's Purse
Japundit
Quiet Desperation: Jim Ryal
Luca Antara: Martin Edmond
Brief Epigrams: Ryan Alexander MacDonald
Radio My Vocabulary: 4 pm Sunday Poetry Streams
Mark Lamoreaux: [[[0{:}0]]]
Hot Whiskey Blog
louder
Nick Bruno: They Shoot Poets Don't They?
Joe Massey: Rooted Fool
Kate Greenstreet: every other day
heuriskein: Tom Orange
Chiaroscuro Metropoli: Tom Beckett
Behrle's latest spout!
Fluffy Dollars: Michelle Detorie
Jane Dark's Sugar High!
The Katherine Anne Porter Literary Center
(Charles) Olson Now: Michael Kellaher & Ammiel Alcalay
kari edwards' TranssubMUTATION
Notes on the Revival: Jeremy Hawkins
PurPur: Petrus Pokus
Snapper Missives: Scott Pierce
A Sad Day for Sad Birds II: Gina Meyers
Great Works: Peter Philpot
zafusy: experimental poetry journal
Writeboard: a collaborative writing tool
John Latta: Rue Hazard
KP Harris: Croissant Factory
Stephanie Young's New Site
Stephen Vincent's New Site
Portable Press@Yo~Yo Labs
Square America
Amy King's blog
Robert: Peyoetry Hut
Muisti Kirja: Karri Kokko
Karri Kokko's Blonde on Blonde
Yummeee Blog (recipes)
Nice Guy Syndrome: Tim Botta
Left Hook
Del Ray Cross: anachronizms
Juan Cole: Informed Comment
BuzzFlash - Daily Headlines, Breaking News, Links
Aaron McCollough
Chris Lott's Cosmopoetica
Chad Parenteau
Little Emerson
Fever, Light--by Sawako Nakayasu
Second Wish
Nomadics
Alison Croggon
Radical Druid
Ron is Ron: the Ron Silliman Cartoon by Jim Behrle
Dagzine: Positions, Poetics, Populations: Gary Norris
Shadows within Shadows: Tom Beckett
Self Similar Writing: Jukka Pekka Kervinen
The Little Workshop: Cassie Lewis
Sky Bright: Jay Rosevear
Poesy Galore: Emily Lloyd
Lisa Jarnot's Blog
Poetry Hut: Jilly Dybka (has moved here)
Pornfeld: Michael Hoerman
Seven Apples: Justin Ulmer
Hi Spirits: Andrew Burke
Bacon Bargain!: Joe Massey
Ivy is here: Ivy Alvarez
Whimsy Speaks: Jeff Bahr
Umbrella: Jeff Wietor
Chicanas! (Susana L. Gallardo)
Masters of Photography
Blog of Disquiet: Gary Norris' Teaching Blog
Suzanna Gig Jig
Bad with Titles: Jay Thomas
Spaceship Tumblers! Tony Tost
Desert City: Ken Rumble
E-Po
Zotz!
Optative Mood: Tim Morris
ecritures bleues: Laura Carter
The Ingredient: Alli Warren
Skanky Possum Pouch
Slight Publications
Jewishy-Irishy: Laurel Snyder
Sea-Camel: Alberto Romero Bermo
Growing Nations: Jordan Stempleman
Tom Raworth
Entropy and Me: Hal Johnson
Scott Pierce: Snapper's Junk
Chicano Poet: Reyes Cardenas
Semio-Karl M&M
Stephen Vincent
Hoa Nguyen/Teacher's & Writers
a New Word Placements
Narcissus Works: Anny Ballardini
Richard Lopez
Tributary: Allen Bramhall
The_Delay: Chris Vitiello
Jukka Pekka Kervinen: Nonlinear Poetry
Lanny Quarles: Phaneronoemikon
Clifford Duffy: Fictions of Deleuze & Guattari
DagZine
Carrboro Poetry Festival
Steve Evans: Third Factory
DEBORAH PATILLO
SKANKY POSSUM PRESS
Tim Peterson: Mappemunde
WOOD'S LOT
Geof Huth: DBQP
Ann Marie Eldon
Jim Behrle: The Jim Side
Ray Bianchi:Postmodern Collage Poetry
Never Mind the Beasts
Diaryo
New Broom
Flingdump Scattershot
Tony Tost: Unquiet Grave
Grapez
SB POET
Mark Young's Pelican Dreaming
|||AS/IS2|||
Li's A Private Studio
Anny Ballardini's Poet's Corner
Tom Beckett: Vanishing Points
Dumbfoundry
BadGurrrlNest
Jean Vengua's Okir
Hear-it dot org: info on hearing problems
Tim Yu's Tympan
James Yeager's Modern Lives
Tony Robinson: Geneva Convention
Daniel Nestor's Unpleasant Event
Ex-Lion Tamer
Carlos Arribas: Scriptorium
David Nemeth
Ela's Incertain Plume
Mairead Byrne's Heaven
Catherine Daly
Black Spring
Br.Tom's Finish Yr Phrase
Shin Yu Pai: makura-no-soshi
Harry K. Stammer: Downtown LA
Corina's Fledgling Wordsmith
Jilly Dybka's Poetry Hut
Ben Basan's Luminations
Katey: Chewing on Pencils
YaY!! Eileen Tabios: Chatelaine Poetics !
Jill Jones: Ruby Street
Geoffrey Gatza's BlazeVox
Bill Allegrezza's P-Ramblings
Gary Sullivan's Elsewhere
GoldenRuleJones
Poetry_Heat
Bookslut
Chickee's SuperDeluxeGoodPoems
As-Is !
John Latta's Hotel Point
Sawako Nakayasu's Ongoing Show
Shanna Compton's Brand New Insects
Crag Hill
kari edwards: transdada
Fluss
Michael Helsem's Gray Wyvern
Word Placement
Bogue's Blog
Jordan Davis: Equanimity
Robert Flach's Unadulterated Text
Michelle Bautista
Ironic Cinema
Mike Snider
Farewell Tonio!

In Through the Out Door
The Blonde Brunette
Awake at Dawn on Someone's Couch is Toast
Jukka-Pekka Kervinen:Non-Linear
Xpress(ed) !
Chris Lott's Ruminate
Venepoetics
Laura: Yellowslip
Stick Poet Super Hero
Mighty Jens!
Radio UTA: Toni's Thursday Poetry Show
Tim Morris: Lection
Gabe Gudding
Constant Critic
Sappho's Breathing
Waves of Reading
Jhananin's Insite
Fanaticus
AdvExpo
Stephen Vincent
Stephanie Young: New Well Nourished Moon
Kasey Silem Mohammad's Newest Limetree
Lanny Quarles: (solipsis)//:phaneronoemikon
States Writes
Rebecca's Pocket
Simulacro
Braincase Links
Sentence
Sor Juana
73 Urban Bus Journeys
Poeta Empirica
poetry for the people: canwehaveourballback?
Ernesto Priego's Never Neutral
Nick Piombino's Fait Accompli
Weekly Incite blogresearch
Jim Behrle's first monkey
Jim Behrle's Monkey's Gone to Heaven
David Kirschenbaum's Boog City
Not Nick Moudry
Laurable
David Hess Heathens in Heat
Jack Kimball's Pantaloons
Li Bloom's Abolone
Ron Silliman
Chris Sullivan's Bloggchaff
Chris Sullivan's Slight Publications
Chris Sullivan's Department of Culture
Kasey S. Mohammad's Old-New Limetree
Kasey's Old Limetree
James Meetze: Brutal Kittens
Cassie Lewis: The Jetty
Joseph Mosconi's Harlequin Knights
Nada Gordon's Ululate
ultimate: Stephanie Young's First Well Nourished Moon
Steve Evans: Third Factory
Noah Eli Gordon's Human Verb
Jean Vengua's Blue Kangaroo
Sawako Nakayasu: Texture Notes
Free Space Comix: BK Stefans
Crosfader
Malcolm Davidson's eeksy peeksy
Marsh Hawk Press group
Catherine Meng's Porthole Redux
Josh Corey's Cahiers de Corey
Very Nice! Shampoopoetry
UTA's Lit Mag: ZNine
Wild Honey Press
Jacket
JFK's Poetinresidence
Malcolm Davidson's Tram Spark poems
HYepez: RealiTi
HYpez: Mexperimental
Aimee Nez's Gila Monster
BestMaX: Jim Behrle's jismblog
Cori Copp's Littleshirleybean
Jordan Davis: Million Poems
Eileen Tabios: Corpsepoetics [see Chatelaine above]
YaY! Liz's Thirdwish
Ultra Linking
Henry Gould's HG Poetics




Saturday, January 31, 2004

 

from my new series, * Found * :


Found: Text


Today I found the vast majority
text-based--
"I 45 south > take I
610 east/I 610 west>"--
ink scratching
oblivion
majority of that

numbers
"continue toward I 610 w /"
a black mold paper play

representing things
"Orlene Dr. merge on"
to someone we

(quoting these found directions)

attach to food stores
purchasing
consumption
rolled paper receipt litter
"I 610 w > continue on I 610"

design is the rest
"take the Post Oak exit>"
the fast
food warp

papers
(food wrappings) "continue
on west loop> left"
plastic bag tacos interrupt
singing
mouths

between concrete &
asphalt rainbird
system

beer can warnings for the pregnant
don't

drink me


pleading neon
blue background silver lining
of psyche combing
letters

& dank napkin borders
of mimeo purple glare
sticky with receipts

paper plates fruit
rind & ink
of orange
"left on Briar Hollow"



* A series based on "found objects:" noticed on my daily walks through the neighborhood I live in, which is stacked with 1960s era brick apartment buildings and parking lots full of shiny trucks. It is located in mid-Arlington, TX, U.S.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@This "Found" is copyright of chris murray@@@@


chris at 11:27 PM |

 

Charles Is No Bunny

mp_cb: " ...I agree you're not a bunny!"


chris at 7:14 PM |

 

mas o menos respuesta



*Si, el problemo
con much too

is heavy
therefore

cannot
be.
Heave or

to carry
itself.

So must
be
by
someone's
else

mas o
menos*



cm


chris at 3:59 PM |

 

New Issue!


xStream Issue #17 is online:


1. Regular: Works from 7 poets
(Sheila E. Murphy, Andrew French, Ivan Arguelles, John M. Bennett, Harry K. Stammer,
Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino and Peter Ganick)

2. Autoissue: Computer-generated poems from Issue #17 texts,
the whole autoissue is generated in "real-time".



Jukka-Pekka Kervinen
Editor
xStream

Check it Out:

xStream



chris at 3:37 PM |

 


Announcing a Poetry Reading:

Shin Yu Pai
& Chris Murray

Saturday, 7 February 2004 at 7 p.m.
Red River Room: 2nd Floor, UC
University of Texas at Arlington


Sponsored by the UTA Writing Center
and the Chinese American Students Association

Organized by Kristina Graham


chris at 2:02 PM |

 

Warm Welcome: I posted two weeks or so ago (actually I just went back and looked: Thursday 15 Jan, 4: 26 a.m.) about how much I like Steve Tills's Black Spring Online. Now I also want to say how nice it is to see the blog, Black Spring. Welcome to blogland, Steve!


chris at 2:55 AM |

Friday, January 30, 2004

 

from Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week,


Floater



plaything               or play at wakeful prune

                even these words have holes in them

actual friend aviary              

please release laughter             able appease

appear on call beeper history                 the main memory is hurt

            what is left paranoia  

        no one real                 or could you remove case

cast in this unlikely plaster           &sbsp;     govern one's reasons

                what child out of nothing               rabbits

          green green green    
          farm smells bad or should you pull rank

              whose trail leads uphill             mind your roots

who's that demon in my basement?               you you you you you

              fell out the chair old man                  

  cracked in the forehead
                 
      brow me down to size you up             oligarchical oval

what sneaks behind                 hidden world is a peeper on your viscous eyeball

bipolar planet                 I"m melting and I can't get up                 or act

                  who cares about a small unveiling of the pervasiveness of conscious matters


....................................Clayton terrific poems Couch...............................



chris at 12:07 PM |

 

Rest In Peace, Janet Frame (New Zealander, 1924-2004)

I. M. Janet Frame: "When the sun shines more years than fear"--Lovely to see this tribute: thanks, Jill.

And the disposition of Janet Frame's literary legacy/estate?--News from a New Zealand paper, via Golden Rule Jones--thanks, Sam.


chris at 5:19 AM |

 

Literary Voices in the News from Venezuela

Brave New Letters: "Carta Abierta"--This is the kind of news we seldom get, and when we do, not usually in much detail, here in the U.S. Thanks for posting this, Guillermo.


chris at 4:36 AM |

 

Logos Qs & Yr(s)

                              (for DTM)

"At times the sound of a vocable, or the force of a letter, reveals and defines the real thought attached to a word... phonetic phenomena and phenomena of the logos harmonize. ... we learn how to meditate very slowly, to experience the inner immensity of a word."--Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (198)


What it's missing?--gait of o,
u across the entire

side street, gushing busses, waves of palms
(could be trees), (probably orange blossoms--
it can be spring)


hands & (w)arms:
well, simply the entire
body of.

Bridges driven
over
corrugating
coordinating
sound drowsing side to side
that is, together

O U with all your or
but no u, even if y
remains fundamental to knowing
& all the others exist
so basically
r

as in tear or tear
adding dream & dream,
common (with mmmm) to drama,
theatre. What r
gaps from sound to sight?
Yawn & the jaw is a doubled abstention
joining

being (the thing) (tear)
doing (the infinitive

action) (tear) ... to... perform
having a premium on how we
r
(mmm collecting in its own cistern)
made for the concrete plain,
urban herd stampede on numbered
blocks up one slide down the cover

busstop of doubles who are
pe_fo_
mative
over our
r)--

huddling in plexi
glass arch
against rain
for these hours of waiting
riddle puddles of thought
& song

or maybe the o
u is simply coming
more to our
well,

looking into it,
yes--that's it:
y is a ball
joint the body
assuring itself by its hellos:
Latitudinal is Y:Y is a thumb.
Thumb of your
our.

Then, too, there is this
dangling s (toes planting s's
on lake ripples from the dock) of rms
(thoughts rubbing up one
unto the other)
so unaccountably
but kindly
(missing)
Yr(s)



((((((((((((((((((((((((((( o~o\ )))))))))))))Logos Qs & Yrs is copyright of chris murray))))))))))))))))))))))))))


chris at 1:36 AM |

 

Luminations, some new directions--check it out:

Now, this is a conversation that challenges current paradigms, thus also, the current epistemology. It poses significant questions about integrating differing ways of knowing and being in/with poetry. Makes me want to dig out that fine work of Gaston Bachelard, and re-read him through and across the space of this Luminations text-in-the-making. And, to my mind, it's one of the best things * discourse * can do over a given subject. That this integrates poetry with these other disciplinary discourses is, natch, especially gratifying to see. Nice work, Ben.


chris at 12:44 AM |

Thursday, January 29, 2004

 

Check it out: lots of good talk about jazz happenin' over at Chris Lott's site, Ruminate.


chris at 7:15 PM |

 

from John Berger, Ways of Seeing


Seeing comes before words.
The child looks and recognizes before it can speak.

But there is also another sense in which seeing comes before words. It is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world; we explain that world with words, but words can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it. The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled. Each evening we see the sun set. We know that the earth is turning away from it. Yet the knowledge, the explanation, never quite fits the sight. (105-106)

...

Images were first made to conjure up the appearance of something that was absent. Gradually it became evident that an image could outlast what it represented; it then showed how something or somebody had once looked--and thus by implication how the subject had once been seen by other people. Later still the specific vision of the image-maker was also recognized as part of the record. An image became a record of how X had seen Y. This was a result of an increasing consciousness of individuality, accompanying an increasing awareness of history. (108)



* John Berger, Ways of Seeing, in Ways of Reading. David Bartholomae and Anthony Petrosky, Eds. Boston: Bedford/St. Martins, 1999.




chris at 5:41 PM |

 

from Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week :


Red-shift Recession



Manipulation of light's speed proceeds
in hidden laboratories funded by strict
corporate interests, foaming to the bank.

Recall mystery meat from the frozen
food section. We can barely keep our
wine from sloshing out on the wax floor.

I'm done with the whole uranium puzzle,
and you should’ve been done with it, too,
said the spook to suit with gun in hand.

When I think of cutting off your hand
for stealing, the immediacy of my preserved
meal jumps its plate and into my mouth.

Down by the pool a teenage couple
talks the in and outs of taking a week
off from their relationship. If they knew.

This job hinges upon an ability to bullshit
your way through emergency situations
without bulletproof vest or explicit directions.

You once worked alongside her at the cafe,
and so she pretends not to know your face.
There's a reason why this town's so hot.



((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((.)))))))))))))))))))))))))clayton couch(((((((((((((



chris at 4:37 AM |

 

* No ideas but in "frings" *

and in * If *



chris at 3:03 AM |

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

 

Don't Send Any More Blue

(To DTM)


satin bible
marketeers:
don't send blue--

pistachio cover
will do for me,
please, in true
bible love

where nothing is ever just
shell

game don't send me, then,
more stack nest
hairdo cheerleaders,
blue suit
football
player striped ties, ever.

But poetry
upstart
crows, green tea

leaves, instead
& love's all

yours in today's lost &
fond grammar
flannel.


cm~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ o~o\ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




chris at 10:27 PM |

 

My syllabus is now up at Poetry_Heat.


chris at 11:01 AM |

 

from Clayton Couch, moderator of the group blog, As/Is and currently the
Texfiles Poet of the Week :



Deep Thought



retrain the bright in jars
new paint on the walls
where the food's prepared

by hand and outside light
strikes twice pound back
ground echo electricity

skidding cross lake
surface where we are
all surfaces when depths

are plumbed to farthest
bottoms the crappie
feed on Christmas trees

old and forgotten ornaments
dissolved into the attics
of old homes and closets


chris at 4:07 AM |

 

* * Happy Bloggin' BirthYaY ! ! * *

* ? *

first, make your wish: i i i i i i i i i i

(ya git ten candles per year around dis ol Tex place)

: )



chris at 2:18 AM |

 

I LOVE this* !

terrific creative uses of flash!

*found via kari edwards's ! transdada ! Thanks, kari.

& here's an alternative version of Puppy Flowers (pdf)

Go, Puppy Flowers!


chris at 1:05 AM |

Tuesday, January 27, 2004

 

Thanks, to Gray Wyvern, for passing along this Move On dot org News:



CBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucksCBSucks

*************************************************************



And Hey : Peace ! Golly Gee Have I Got Googlies!

Number one match for the search terms, * "Chris Murray" + Let + There + Be + Peace + lyrics *--why, Texfiles, of course! Peace to everyone all the time:

Amen, ya kno?--cuz wouldn't it be nice if that were all it took for some kind of peace, especially world peace. Yep, just google up some peace. world peace, peace love dove, peace and quiet, peace and harmony, Merry peace to all and to all a good-night. even if peace requires a lot more work than a privileged *click*...

But anyway, I expect this Googlie must only have been someone looking for song lyrics by that other Chris Murray, the Ska-Man. But not the lawyer, the math professor in Houston, or the Republican--each of whom makes an appearance each time this name is googled. I'm starting to feel like we're all one big happy family, back-up band to some alter-Brady-Bunch. Or if they weren't looking for the Ska-Man, then some other of the 50 bazillion pages of Chris Murrays, in all the ways, shapes, forms, songs, and whatevers, that Google will fetch and set at the doorstep of anyone who puts quotes around that name (i am not i. i do not contain multitudes. i am one of the many, one nation & etc... um, okay, less fun-with-my-plastique-ego).

Seriously : what a nice thought, * peace *--yes?--

a bazillion matching wishes for all kinds of peace...

hey, now, that's somethin' we can *live* with.




******************************o~o/ *********************


chris at 9:48 PM |

 

If You Were Looking to Read some Very Fine Prose on Poetry:

A couple of things of interest, one from the current issue and one from the archives (that I somehow missed in the last couple weeks tho they are definitely of prime poetic interest right now) at
Bookslut. First, Dale Smith's interview with the fascinating and exceptionally learned poet-scholar Clayton Eshleman is in the current issue. Very well done. Also included in this column (Dale has a column at Bookslut! YaY!!), an erudite comment on the irresponsible Atkinson article about hyperauthorship, which is in the last issue of * The Believer, * so this piece is definitely something to look into on both counts.


And next, from Bookslut's issue # 8, Jessa did a very warm and informative interview with Dale Smith and Hoa Nguyen, which really shows something of the wonderful work and approaches to poetry taken by these two exemplary poets.

Speaking first from experience with interviewing, I can say that these are both exceptional pieces. But also as a reader invested in learning, teaching, and experimenting poetically, I recommend these readings most highly. In fact, Bookslut rocks any time you open it up, so if you haven't already then do bookmark it right now in your Favorites menu.


chris at 6:54 PM |

 

I Need a little ToC here, with these longish posts!
So, Table of Contents:

--Scroll to third post for Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week, 2 new poems YaY!!
--Scroll down to second post for cm audblog-reading Jack Spicer's "Narcissus," and cm's "5@s for Steve Vincent"
--Opening post is cm audblog-reading cm's "Prayer: Demeter to Persephone."


chris at 2:48 AM |

 

Powered by audblogaudio post powered by audblog

A Poem on the Occasion of Persephone's Infamous Flower:


Prayer: Demeter to Persephone

To Mike Snider, in honor of his answer,
naming the flower picked by Persephone: the narcissus.




The petalled stem being nothing to a mirror,
Beloved child, wherever you've been taken,
Please forgive this mirror grit of black
Ice I've cast on world, on word--on soil,
And every green, of leaf or grain--avenging
Our loss. Please know that none of it's
Your fault, but is the work of dark stories,
Forest-old, labyrinthine, crumbling selves
And seeds, and feels as if we're lost, we've strayed,
Or plucked something beautiful but then
understand we've been betrayed. Some say
This is love: mirror, petal, black ice--
And all our wimpering being, full of nothing.
I say, Restore this child: love is being.



~~~~~~~~~~chris.murray~~~~~~~~~ o~o\ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




chris at 2:09 AM |

 

Powered by audblogaudio post powered by audblog


A Jack Spicer Poem,
& one for Steve Vincent, for guessing the infamous flower.


from Jack Spicer * :

Narcissus

              A Translation for Richard Rummonds


Child,
How you keep falling into rivers.

At the bottom there's a rose
And in the rose there's another river.

Look at that bird. Look,
That yellow bird.

My eyes have fallen down
Into the water.

My god,
How they're slipping! Youngster!

--And I'm in the rose myself.

When I was lost in water I
Understood but won't tell you.

(39)

* Jack Spicer, The Collected Books of Jack Spicer. Robin Blaser, Ed. Los Angeles: Black Sparrow Press, 1975.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o~o\~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


As promised, a cm poem for the answer to the question of Persephone's flower:



5 @s to Steve Vincent

--In honor of his answer:
"It's that beautiful bright dangerous plant...,"
the narcissus flower--
& a love for Jack Spicer


                "There may be a whale in this ocean."--Jack Spicer


1.
Orphic bad-boy Jack
who would want

a petalled thing to pluck
studded in sea rain

Atlantis narcissus US american "Ghosts
drip/ and then they leap"--
Who knew
which plucking
(had damned our)
Orpheus?


2.
Who plucked the long
amerikaieen strings, saying, Petal!
"Our father that art in hell
We'll tell
Them"
in one breath
or the four notes of mythic
blink oceans of African who

3.
perhaps a handy remote
control amerikaans Demeter
"Prayer for My Daughter"
to flutter open like a flower
in the eye abyss
& radio free
Bhagdad
perhaps

4.
Bhagdad from mere
here to form americani
self-eek
to warn: eek: narcissi:
ahead: rocking boats &
there is the real Bhagdad

5.
wallpaper & more who in Hades
commercial clay: so hey, this flower, man, narcissus,
it licks a cherry
alphabet cabinet of lies, plucks
a pomegranate careful
to gentle down the impolitic
squirm of bloody epic
surge & who be amerikeen
Hades in Bhagdad wallpaper?

"Troy was a baby when the real sentence structure emerged. This
          was the real Trojan Horse.
The order changes."--Jack Spicer, "Transformations II"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!o~o\!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


chris at 1:59 AM |

 

from Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week :



Neighbor



collectibles mold me and I sell texts at flea market
bargain price antique mall tale and separation anxiety

my body's cold and overhead I hear music
poems cast and collapsed into one life's misgivings

does anyone live long enough to forget the whole song?
dogwood blossoms white spring morning and lettuce from the garden

no one calls me any longer
veteran chemicals of a black and white cinematic war and cabled horrors

one can find dates in the unlikeliest places and the car's the best spot
jeep commands the dirt roads of Brittany and general orders to occupy Ruhr

Romans once looked upon that island with contempt and no one knew incantations
forget it it's long past

are you listening to me son?
the oil will be our lead pipe and all that we have is up


* * *


Candle Wax and Thread



That your flight expressed
those of us left on tired ground
wasn't reflected

in the surface waves
of envy. Did our blessings
pull your wings apart?

At odd times, we’ll hear
sounds that bring you back to life –
dragonflies buzzing,

cicada thrumming,
hummingbird hovering red –
though skies now yell jets.

If everyone
played your game of launching air,
we'd never look up;

but this dream’s drawn its
course, and life's stages tumble
after, depleted.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%.c. of Clayton Couch.%%%%%%%%%%%


chris at 1:48 AM |

Monday, January 26, 2004

 

I Mean No I. I Mean No You, No Other

This should maybe not need to be said, but will do so just to be sure readers understand my rhetorical perspective and intentions: when I do poetry publicly like this on-blog stuff, when I dedicate a poem to someone--as with good reason I did yesterday to Steve Vincent and today to Mike Snider (and in the past to Eileen Tabios and Mark Weiss, among others); or if I post a poem that sounds very intimate and personal (as I have for my friends Danny O'Connell and Cedrick May), or if I write an intimate-sounding poem in response to someone else's intimate-sounding poem (as I did a week or so ago with Lanny Quarles), it is a way of being *poetic*--of being dynamically ** textual,** and only that.

If it's posted up here, then it is simulating, it is performative & dialogic, wording as an act, an interaction, an intertext, for the moment of rhetorical exigence, keepin' the word (simulating) the alive, as it were, or something of what it might mean to be alive. With writing as mode.

It's limited to that and can be likened to writing a poem to Emily Dickinson, a tribute, a performance, a manner of speaking.

Pronouns are place holders.
Rhetoric, a simulacrum.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

As In

Hi You! Hi other! [Your Name Goes Here], do
You, Other, want to be--
hammock nets swaying between two walls and a ceiling, all vessels, all vehicles, all balloons, docked ships (not destroyers), lighthouses on either side of the Atlantic, all hotels, some balconies, some banisters, Colorado tributary, elevators, all airports, all engines, all busstops, some kiosks, stop signs on opposite corners, mutually shared telephone cords, many traffic lights, one set of dual sinks full of weeping dishes, bubbling tea kettles, triptych, street car conductors, bo-boes in chai tea, creme sandwich cookies, rectangular dining room table with taper candle on either end, pristine table lace cloth, grannies answering the door, padding beneath, brassieres, puppies, penny loafers, earrings, eyeglasses, hermit crabs in transparent terrariums--
just like this with
my I, my generic rhetorical me?

No, not *really.*


%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%chris m%%%%%%%%%


chris at 5:19 PM |

 

still quite busy but in passing did have a moment to read a few screens. I'm very taken with the many things Joshua Corey is reflecting on with great aplomb even though he is also apparently taking his comprehensive exams! Go, Josh!


chris at 1:48 PM |

 

Note:
Eeeepppp: super busy verging on overwhelm today, Monday. New semester underway, and professor job candidates are here for interviews & giving talks this week in my department. So, I'm postponing blog posts until later, probably evening. First up?--2 important matters: 1. new work from Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week. 2. a cm poem dedicated to the other winning person who guessed correctly the infamous flower that unlucky Persephone picked. Thanks, All, for your patience.


chris at 4:05 AM |

Sunday, January 25, 2004

 

a Big YaY!! & Thanks to Ernesto Priego :

for this fun quiz courtesy of Never Neutral blog. The quiz provides a little bit of new meaning to the cliche,
* It's Great to Be Alive ! * (most of the other figures are dead).

But then, again: I do look like I might be enjoying whatever that (deadly!) smoking material is--way too much. Or, hey, it might only be my pen, one of my (yeah: smokin') writing materials... .

And this question is important: do I look yet like I might be getting at all close to recanting my book on Chinese women?--and next, close to stating any coherent political position? I hope so.
But hey, Go Me! Keepin' on the western Yikes trail ! That convoluted *horrific*abject*fragilistic*self*self-abnegating*absence*
of *presence's*tortuous*fleshly*absence(s)!
Sheeeit, Man, just thinking up that string of theory took a lot outta me. Will one of you nice Sorbonne Seabiscuit-trainers please pass me a Black-'N'-Mild? No, dammitall, hang up that phone! Do not call Luce or Mikhail to tell them I am smokin' this one itty-bitty aromatic gift of the gods. I will not inhale, trust me! Quick, shut the door!--here comes that faux hippie, Helene, huddled with Michel !--in that ratty fur coat she wears all over, shedding patches of fur & natty tannic skin everywhere! Aieee! Who can tell which of us is the bigger poetry slut?! Ah me, will language ever again be truly inter-poetic?


HASH(0x852de70)
You are Julia Kristeva! You were a student of
Roland Barthes, and came up with such important
notions as intertextuality and abjection. You
are a semiotician, psychoanalyst, scholar of
literature, and dozens more things. You are not
dead.


What 20th Century Theorist are you?
brought to you by Quizilla



chris at 5:28 PM |

 

On Sunday: 2 cm poems dedicated to the folks who guessed Persephone's infamous flower.


chris at 3:50 AM |

 

from Clayton Couch, Texfiles Poet of the Week :


Urban Renewal


Isthmus, in an otherwise locked-down hotbox:
a country where the county's folk know none
of their own rhythms. Lean on stilts of faith,
surprised when argument turns into broken
teeth, a failure of the power company to accept
difference. Exchanges cease at the political door-
step of emailed absurdities; nothing left but rant.

Southern Comfort itches your stomach raw.

Black ruin, and another neighborhood full
of rotten bodies, brains left spilled in the hot
gutter, a mouthing stormdrain sucking up guts
where the real selfishness sticks its neck out
and doesn't know what to do with its flailing
torso, turning towards greater levels of self
in the face of uniformed law enforcement prods.

Shortened by terse commands to stand down
precisely, the boss wilts under artificial light.

Voter-booth hypocrisy lusts after cracks
in the shower tiles and still you believe
conversion is just around the corner
of my mouth. Ignore the incisors, sharp.




 

Powered By Blogger TM