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, June 11, 2005

 


"nanofossil worm, magnetite whiskers" --via UCSD, Space_Sciences page


Inter-Leav(en)ing Samuel Beckett's The Unnamable


Ever have absurdist days where the only reasonable thing to do would be to re-read Samuel Beckett's The Unnamable straight through, very fast, no stopping (I think I read once that is how he wrote it but I could have that wrong, but anyway it's an interesting fantasy to consider), even for food, drink, rest, clothing changes or toilet runs (tho of course a pause for blogging is perfectly acceptable)? Would the body become stiff and stuck to the furniture?--well, reading while walking around (it requires pacing around, I think) at the same time would be allowable, I suppose. It's that kind of day around here right now. Here's where I am at moment, page 86 of the Grove Press paperback edition (1958), and here is a transcript of readerly dialogism:

Yes, let us call that thing Worm

what thing?--the state of being/feeling/wanting/thinking nothing, to be "Worm inside"

so as to exclaim, the sleight of hand accomplished, Oh look, life again, life everywhere and always, the life that's on every tongue, the only possible!

the way consciousness deceives itself into being/thinking/speaking/tasting--poor tongue with its continual demand of multitasking, tasting, feeling, speaking, wet wet wormy thing it is

Poor Worm, who thought he was different, there he is in the madhouse for life.

worm:consciousness as life:being ...
housed, locked, imprisoned, misprisoned inside that which is disorderly--an infancy, an infant consciousness, a bawling body incapable of itself, un-self-namable

Where am I?

not who, or what, or how, or why, or even when--but where?!

That's my first question, after an age of listening.

tongue:ear as eye:self-notional

From it, when it hasn't been answered, I'll rebound towards others, of a more personal nature, much later.

it cannot be answered and already is

Perhaps I'll even end up, before regaining my coma, by thinking of myself as living

where a Shakespeare would describe consciousness of life lived as a form of dream--or Shakespeare's characters would call it that--Beckett writes to call it, hehe: a coma (!)--half full or half empty, rose or thorn?

technically speaking

'technically' speaking to/of/in the letter, that is

But let us proceed with method.

let us be systematic, let us impose a pattern on things to make more and/or seemingly predictable

I shall do my best, as always, since I cannot do otherwise.

I am nothing if not the good little altar boy, or ever-obediently-the-best

I shall submit, more corpse-obliging than ever.

submissive to the body, the dead, the inert, the wormy body

I shall transmit the words as received, by the ear, or roared through a trumpet into the arsehole in all their purity, in the same order, as far as possible.

it was more polite to say arsehole than asshole. what is the relation betwee ear and asshole? ear:asshole as mind:tongue. oh. inquiring arses might need to know: is arse (also, easily skewed, misprized, intentionally mistaken along the golden path of signification, as Ares) a euphemism as used here in this particular rhetorical situation? And anyway, who said Nicholas Cage is not a good actor? Let alone that words cannot be or have "purity," and if that is the point, it is unclear/impure since sandwiched between two powerful images, ear and arsehole, as well as no little irony, which creates a context of multiple indeterminacies.

This infinitesimal lag, between arrival and departure, this trifling delay in evacuation, is all I have to worry about.

delay:sonic boom as whip is to crack: the crack of a whip is a form of sonic boom--did you know that?

o~o/


chris at 1:58 PM |

Friday, June 10, 2005

 

more coming up in a little bit here, 
on Stefan Hyner's 10 000 Journeys,
as well as another wonderful surprise
in the mail today. so, please stay tuned.


chris at 8:03 PM |

 

to celebrate my new-found flexibility with poem spacing here at tex, here i'm posting a special treat that just arrived today in the mail, Y'all, causing me to jump up and down and howl at my little aluminum mailbox an hour ago so that all the people swimming in the nearby pool fell silent and turned their inquisitive minds in the direction of my joyful noise... yeah, you got it--this is also a way of sending out some extra big love to the Skanky Possum folk:


from Stefan Hyner's
10 000 Journeys: Selected Poems, 1977-2003
(Skanky Possum, 2005) :


Interstellar Weather Report of the Mind




This an African high
they tell me
the eye of hope rots
when confronted with reality
pain goes everywhere
a four leafed clover
in a used book on Tibet
by Frasco Mariani
the early years
need
more consideration without
being
It's overcast
light
speeds thru the kitchen. Time to cook.


13/VIII/96 (Rohrhof)







~~~~~~~~~~~~poem copyright of Stefan Hyner~~~~~~~~~~ o~o/


chris at 7:43 PM |

 

YaY!! or Duh!!
Figur'd it Out, hehe:
well then what happens if the post following the immediately subsequent post does not uses pre tagging?--and what of using the bolding tags? ... Hah! tricked it! Yeah. forgive my dumb-assness! Trial and error works for me, i'm no html genie: Just have to remember to follow the pre tagged poem post with another pre tagged post no matter whether it is meant to be a pre thing or not, because it will flip when you post the next time (unless you pre tag that one, too). Sheesh! But I'm jazzed now to be able to post poems lined out in any crazy spacing way. For two years I've instead been typing in all the extra html coding, which is time consuming, but something of a labor of love, really. Hah--anyways, got it all down now!


chris at 7:32 PM |

 

 maybe the subsequent post needs to use pre tagging
to keep its antecedent post from flipping over to the right margin
of the blog screen? Okay coming back in for a landing now:
yes, that is it, exactly-Jackie! ... use pre tags following
the initial post and see que pasa.


chris at 7:29 PM |

 

& n b s p ; playin' with spacin's & n b s p ; here

hmmmmmmmmm                         mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

well i see that spaces
inbetween
html code for
spaces
does not create
more or
any specialized
spa ces...


chris at 7:23 PM |

 

--Audre Lorde (image via OSU. edu, multicultural center)

...and the ladies neither notice nor reject
the slighter pleasures of their slavery.
But I who am bound by my mirror
as well as my bed
see causes in color
as well as sex

and sit here wondering
which me will survive
all these liberations...
--Audre Lorde, "Who Said It Was Simple?"


1st Annual Trans Day of Action for Social and Economic Justice
in New York City on June 24th, 2005:

check out the The Audre Lorde Project, Y'all: We invite our Trans and Gender Non-Conforming people of color communities, and our allies, to march with us in the

Visibility of Trans and Gender Non-Conforming People
:

Communities of color have histories that are rich with multiple gender identities, experiences, and expressions, but today the two-gender system is enforced against us everywhere: in health care, immigration, bathrooms, clothing, shelters, prisons, schools, government forms, job applications, and identity documents.

--Gender policing has always been part of America’s bloody history. State-sanctioned gender policing targets Trans and Gender Non-Conforming (TGNC) people first by dehumanizing our identities. It denies our basic right to gender self-determination, and considers our bodies to be property of the state.

--Gender policing isolates TGNC people from our communities, many of which have been socialized with these oppressive definitions of gender. As a result, we all too often fall victim to verbal and physical violence. This transphobic violence is justified using medical theories and religious beliefs, and is perpetuated in order to preserve America’s heterosexist values. Gender policing and violence denies our existence and is used to maintain control over us and keep our communities divided.As Trans and Gender Non-Conforming people of color, we see that our struggle today is directly linked to many struggles here and around the world.

We view the June 24th, Trans Day of Action for Social and Economic Justice, as a day to stand in solidarity with all peoples and movements fighting against oppression and inequality. We also view this action as following the legacy of our Trans People of Color warriors, such as Sylvia Rivera, and others who with extreme determination fought not only for the rights of all trans and gender-nonconforming people, but also were on the frontlines for the liberation of all oppressed peoples. In this spirit, we as Trans and Gender Non-Conforming Peoples of Color call on all social justice activists from communities of color, lesbian, gay, bi and trans movements, immigrant rights organizations, youth and student groups, trade unions and workers organizations, religious communities and HIV/ AIDS and social service agencies to endorse this call to action and to build contingents to march in solidarity together on June 24th.

With this march we commemorate the lives of those that came before us, and honor the courage of our all communities that continue to struggle and fight for liberation and self-determination everyday.



To Endorse: email ikhenry(at)alp.org or call 718.596.0342, ext 18

Yours In Struggle --TransJustice, a project of The Audre Lorde Project


chris at 2:00 PM |

 

Variations on Red Tide:

"Mixed bloom of Dinophysis acuta and D. norvegica co-occurring with a bloom of Ceratium furca"

"North Carolina Sea Surface Temperature image of a Karenia brevis bloom... 1987"

"Red Tide Dead Fish"


chris at 1:17 PM |

Thursday, June 09, 2005

 

so yeah, like i was saying...
it happened again. see below. i'll have to look into this some more. i see that over at As/Is folks were discussing it in the comments box. And btw, the phrases in the poem below are taken entirely at random from television-spam heard in the moment when I wanted to test the 'pre' tag.


chris at 9:59 PM |

 

just checking on how the posting screen operates when using the 'pre' tag for poem spacing. in the past, the poems i post with that tagging are fine on initial posting, and then they change once another post is added. dunno why... and trying to see here if it is still happening that way


chris at 9:51 PM |

 



rhythm of pulse down beat actitude

looking for Me and Bobby McGee

I'd like to feel more

secure in my job as trash

collector

my personal area is open it's all about the evidence

abolone shell buttons

rawhide shoelace worn thin


chris at 9:35 PM |

 




from Mina Loy * (next to Stein, my favorite modernist writer--I'm rarely taken with HD's poetry):

Der Blinde Junge


The dam Bellona
littered
her eyeless offspring
Kreigsopfer
upon the pavements of Vienna

Sparkling precipitate
the spectral day
involves
the visionless obstacle

this slow blind face
pushing
its virginal nonentity
against the light

Pure purposeless eremite
of centripetal sentience

Upon the carnose horologe of the ego
the vibrant tendon index moves not

since the black lightning desecrated
the retinal altar

Void and extinct
this planet of the soul
strains from the craving throat
in static flight upslanting

A downy youth's snout
nozzling the sun
drowned in dumbfounded instinct

Listen!
illuminati of the coloured earth
How this expressionless "thing"
blows out damnation and conussive dark

Upon a mouth-organ


(274)



* Mina Loy, written in 1923--this publication: Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry (2003)


chris at 12:22 PM |

 

Hot & Sour!



No, silly... it's just my current favorite

soup ...



chris at 3:19 AM |

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

 

Update:

Thanks to Y'all good folk xoxoxoxo

for continually tuning in here at Tex, where things have been intermittent and seeming to be undecided now for several weeks, in part due to tech problems and in part due to misgivings on my part about the perceived and possible valuation of this kind of writing/publishing/social reproduction. Social Reproduction--it concerns me greatly because it is probably one of the only places of possible agency in terms of the rhetorical.

In fact, I thought about bailing from the bloggy thing, as you know from a post about a month ago, since this daily bloggy stuff is so hard and nasty sometimes in terms of figuring what it has to do with meaningfulness (of combined) human being. Not only was I inundated with other (rhetorical) work at that time, but I was seeing what seemed an overabundance of public-relations-influenced (whether or not intentional: indeed, for most part, unintentional!) textuality being produced (reproduced) then. I just had to re-assess whether it was worthwhile to continue. (I'm still re-assessing, if only because blogging seems very susceptible to the kind of exclusionary ideas and practices that governed high school, for chrissakes!).

And, well, in blogging and as a writer, I seriously wanted to expose and to skewer politicos via poetics and poetry and write lots of differing kinds and modes of poetry--to be as eclectic as possible, ya kno? And then to write, as well, notes to build toward whatever passes now--in our moment, not as a prescribed thing (!) as critical exposition about it (tho I see that critical prose about poetry is severely limited and lacking: stymied for the most part by preconceived notions not about poetry per se, but about what constitutes critical prose (!), which, despite the way it seems to propound itself in bloggyland, is actually a very fluid rhetoric.

But for now I am still into blogging and especially if Y'all are into continuing to read, and I do very much care about the people/personae I've encountered and interacted with in blogging. Y'all have made me feel welcome, and have shared intriguing ideas and have risked writing poetry in ways I truly admire. Imagine putting all a poet's unedited drafts out there for anyone to peruse: that is how it works out here, and gee: we've all done well by one another that way, to my mind, anyway.

Materially, I've finally got both my home phone and the internet cable/computer problems resolved. Weirdness reigned last month (more than usual, tho it is tru that I must certainly be far more privileged than almost anyone else in any other poet category (whatever those are) simply because I also happen to hold some kind of cobbled together university job. Whatever, Keem-oh-Sahbee. I got the life marks and the loan debt to prove it was all just a fucking other way to get from single parent to job-beyond-WalMart, tho I have to say that Walmart job was obviously the smarter choice, tho I had to pass, ya kno?--3 kids to raise on my own and all that. And shit, all I knew how to do besides sew and crochet was read and write. Said 3 kids?--raised now, thank goodness.

Anyways,a problem that began just about a month ago, and left me in the lurch for keeping in touch with various email lists I belong to, as well as the 3 main email accounts I keep (in case something goes wrong with one or another so that I am assured of having some online messaging ability). Sheesh! And then my traveling, which was excellent and especially worthwhile since it concerned my son, but frustrations with online stuff (even though my friends were all very accommodating), but trying to keep up with email, proved impossible because of the inordinate amount of spam that lands in my university email account (at least 200 per day), which then must be hand deleted so to be sure not to miss the meaningful emails sandwiched in the midst of the blizzard, and of course dial-ups (that is what was available, and I was very glad for it) are much slower than the high-speed stuff I'd been used to at my university networking and my cable at home ports, so... . I'm afraid my lack of response may have alienated some correspondents I think the world of, and that is making me worry somewhat, but I will work on straightening that out. I also wasn't able to read blogs very much for the same slow-online-response time reasons, but was able to catch up a little bit yesterday, and gladly so. I realize how much appreciative, shared, community really is present in all this bloggery, and, well... I am just very grateful for it.

I won't go into the details now but one cool outcome of this techno-shift in my circumstances is that I finally went ahead and got a cell phone. An excellent deal, too, through Cingular. Including online access and free phone. The deal is cool--I can blog from my phone! But doing that is extremely expensive so I probably will refrain from it. It's likely I'll try it out once, then see what the bill looks like, and go from there. Ooooo. Cool beans, yeah!

But hey: how does a poem on a phone screen build itself into something, anyway?--dunno, but I might have to try it out to see. And then I'll have to ask my inquisitive self how the cabbage got hold of the cow, anyway, eh? As in: so, chris: now yr willin' ta pay to be able to write a poem?--when everyone knows writing poems never did pay the writer, anyway? What and how much does it cost a person to be a poet? That's the question I think I want to know something about right now (beyond the dumb obvious stuff).

Or, hey, girl (a self address, Y'all): what is it about *communications,* as that (is an) *enterprise* intersecting with current (extremely naive) notions of _creative writing_?-- isn't that taking the poetry-as-a-way-of-life-thing a little too far? I mean: as a writer committed to community and innovative writing, how to sustain (supposed) distance from the 'military-industrial-complex'-of-it-all if one is right smack in the midst of it (just watched my son march off into it by his choice [not mine]), thus realizing how very compromised one's writing will have to be. Or maybe one should just write tripe: any bullshit layering of received voicings, anti-anti's, eh?

These, right now, are of deep concern to me.
Not for the reason of privileging poetry above other discourses or other modes of social interaction, but because it seems to me that poetry may not be anything.

As in: we, po-people, are aware of the dire straits we are in culturally, politically, rhetorically (as in use of English, for example, where all our self-identifying markers are fucked--I mean pronouns, Y'all--the subject of my recent dissertation...) and may be not complexly attuned to post-modern poetry but may only be post-poetry (as some might put it: who fucking needs it?!), at this moment. I see some po-folk do much more active cultural work (cultural agency) via cartooning, for instance. Stunning cartoons, work well done ...
So, hey, do rock on.

But I'm all for hanging around to see what else evolves and develops.

xo
to
y'all,

c


chris at 9:06 PM |

 


--"tendon," via neuromedia at ucla

Check out this new issue of Mudlark (No. 28: 2005) :

Plextrum


This is not a thing to toy with.
Why, this very plexus, that’s what.
Once, we breathed water, you know.
Next, we’ll breathe fire with worse results.
For now, ozone will do nicely.
Take this fine thread that spans our bones.
There now. Pluck it.



--with its very fine feature of the poetry of Brian Clements: Use Cases.



~~~~~~~~~~poem copyright of Brian Clements~~~~~~~~~~~~ o~o/


chris at 5:06 PM |

 




from H.D. : *


[The Walls Do Not Fall: 39]



We have had too much consecration,
too little affirmation,

too much: but this, this, this
has been proved heretical,

too little: I know, I feel
the meaning that words hide;

they are anagrams, cryptograms,
little boxes, conditioned

to hatch butterflies...

(405)


~



Theodor Roethke : *


The Minimal


I study lives on a leaf: the little
Sleepers, numb nudgers in cold dimensions,
Beetles in caves, newts, stone-deaf fishes,
Lice tethered to long limp subterranean weeds,
Squirmers in bogs,
And bacterial creepers
Wriggling through wounds
Like elvers in ponds,
Their wan mouths kissing the warm sutures,
Cleaning and caressing,
Creeping and healing.

(844)




*in Norton's Modern American Poetry, 2003.


chris at 4:15 PM |

 

-- "Fly [Fishing] Los Alamos Ant," by Paul Prentiss @ www. frontrangeanglers, Boulder Colorado... --

Hey, how cool is this?--Ant-Sized Objects Anew, or 2, or II: check it out from Sawako Nakayasu :

Dear (anonymous) Friends,

I am writing a book about insects. If you would like to participate, please write back with a story or some other grouping of words about insects and:

--your relationship to them
--or a particular one
--or anything however suchly related

And if you know anyone who might also have something to say about insects, please pass this message along as well.

Caveat: I don't yet know what I will do or what will become of this - those of you who responded to my 'What is the same size as an ant' query a few years back ended up catalogued in the poem called 'Ant-sized objects, in the order received.' You might think of this as an expansion of such....

* responses may be posted in the form of a comment, or e-mailed directly to sawako (at) gmail.com




chris at 2:39 PM |

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

 

"By the end of the year, more than 500 detainees of around 35 nationalities continued to be held without charge or trial at the US naval base in Guantánamo Bay..." -- Tim Morris at Optative Mood, quoting Amnesty International. Tim's writing on the Bushbag weirdness with words ... . Go Tim!

And do check out more of what Amnesty International has to say here.


chris at 5:54 PM |

 

from Shanna Compton : *


Post-Texas Expressive Heat


Your mother put a
fan in the oven,
he said, to cool
it down. That's right
the door is open
and on it sits
a little fan, blowing.

I am a little
fan, she says, an
ardent fan, a big
fan of yours. Whew.

(2)


*


Tumble in November


Witness this rapid gingering,
the jasmine tea green
and apple flesh creamy,
the tender risk of
paper sack to finger.
Yet we may shop
forever at the farmer's
stand nearby, your soul
(I know) a flue
opened upward and parboiled
pretty. It's true I
know you. You're just
alike to me, what
the laundromat girl (chic
doll she) can't see.

(16)




* Shanna Compton, Down Spooky. 2nd printing. Half Empty/Half Full, 2004.


~~~~~~~~~~poems copyright of Shanna Compton~~~~~~~ o~o/ ~~~~


chris at 5:15 PM |

 

from Kenneth Burke:

Since war and action are both parts of a graded series, having cruelty and vengence at one end and the highest manifestations of thought and sympathy at the other, I see no logical necessity for selecting the dyslogistic choice of the Nietzscheans as descriptive of the series' essence. Dyslogy itself can be considered as but the deterioration of eulogy, a kind of regrettable by-product (for in the inverted alchemy of this "imperfect world" much gold id eventually transformed into base metal). Man lives by purpose--and purpose is basically _preference_. Hence, where we have an even choice between conversion downwards and conversion upwards, who would feel logically obliged to select the direction which implied the destruction of human society. ... or we might choose such words as _cooperation_ and _communication_ ... .

(235-236)


* Kenneth Burke, "The Search for Motives," Permanence and Change, New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1954.


chris at 4:52 PM |

Monday, June 06, 2005

 

... this is one of those areas of human experience about which I had previously chosen to remain willfully ignorant. That's why I'm hoping you'll stick with me long enough to hear me out on this again today -- and occasionally in the future -- when the natural inclination might be to look away to avoid seeing something that we might prefer not to know. People in Diane's situation could use a little more understanding from the rest of us.
--Dave Brown, columnist at the Chicago Sun Times--June 5, 2005, "Dave or Diane: Being Different [Is] No Reason for Guilt." *



* Forwarded to Texfiles by kari edwards : )

o~o/


chris at 7:33 PM |

 





from George Oppen : *


Psalm

        Veritas sequitor...


In the small beauty of the forest
In wild deer bedding down--
That they are there!

          Their eyes
Effortless, the soft lips
Nuzzle and the alien small teeth
Tear at the grass

          The roots of it
Dangle from their mouths
Scattering earth in the strange woods.
They who are there.

          Their paths
Nibbled thru the fields, the leaves that shade them
Hang in the distances
Of sun

          The small nouns
Crying faith
In this in which the wild deer
Startle, and stare out.


(836)




* George Oppen, "Psalm," in Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, Vol 1. Eds. Jahan Ramanzani, Richard Ellman, Robert O'Clair. Norton, 2003.


 

Powered By Blogger TM