wild days: play like a madman / the violin on fire

after the tempest

(for Bob Dylan)

(run hard to rhythm)

the beauty and the simplicity of /

a well constructed

argument

what are we to say of /

the magic of

(her) hair

every colour / a miracle

in every eye

perpetual creation

becomes

overwrought

sense

in the eternal city

of pestilence & corruption

the violence

of flesh and blood

yes

only the whole of history

to account for

his walk

down the dark alley

(the eyes are dead

and clear)

so?

what is it?

say anything /

anything at all

the great anxiety

for truth

is only the laughter

and tears

of this:

the rise from

and fall to

nothing

(call it black)

always summer dancing

(for paul feyerabend.)

tangle of veins

and the fact of blood

is the unknown

we see /

we make picture

and say

image reflects fact

we travel

in existence

everything /

disposable

(and necessarily

so)

yes

abstract thinking

as natural

as not

history forgets

we dress the world

at any time & place

with whatever

comes

to hand

meta 1

(the inside)

impossible

silver /grey

(and without dimension

yes)

the image

a reaching out to

what is there

not a kingdom

within a kingdom

(is really the end of the story

I’m afraid to say)

the day to day

transactions of being

in colours and shapes

relative categories

of perception

as with the rocks

that litter and define

a bronte field

any account is /

a step back / a retreat from

and comes down to syntax

plain and simple

as to meaning

(the circus clown dancing)

syntax on syntax

a necessary caprice

to cover & defy

the unknown

we abandon

knowledge

or should I say

its pretence

no account

necessary

or worth a breath

in the face of

beauty

the vision

her sea blue eyes

her smile

gentle words

no space

between

her heart & soul

jude

heart colours

we bring everything

to everyone

and the absences /

the suffering

only the fact of

separation / identity

consciousness

blown to pieces /

the infinity of eyes

I face the magic of forms

the question is how to fashion

a way of beauty

and who does not do

just this

in each act of hope?

we run in every direction

only to discover

breath

I can’t comprehend NOW

I just retreat

to focus on

the context of objects

before me

(everything is alive

colour shape and place)

I could begin to describe

knowing full well

there is no end to account

and in any case

WORD

has no grip

encierro

what is it

but a way of bodies

in space /

and mind

nature seeing nature?

the impetus for fixity

in self / in others / things

a defiance of space / time

as if this

a necessity for existence

the great ontological denial

either that or

being without reflection

being unseen

even so

we can forget the shadows

the insanity of critique

be the focus /

hard sharp

on what is / there

as if in fact

there is no issue

at least this

a moment of health

who does not deserve

to live without question?

the great ontological

deception

red book 1

each heart

a universe

unexplained

and each heart

to face

the other

unknown

desire

reaching for

desire

fire

consuming

fire

dark days

no answer

to erupting horror

no way

to put an end to violence

& despair

yes

this is the way of it

and so

we burrow into

illusion

touch

belief

art

the making of

refuge

against

the world /

against

the self

yeah well here it is

a moving figure

in space / time

receiving / generating

image

the assumption of

something behind

(mind)

a process of

growth : decay

desire

old friend

it is always the question

what is the case?

and given the possibilities

of different perspectives

different ways of saying

(is there a bullet proof

sentence?)

in the presence of

another’s gaze

(and each gaze

from another world)

how do you get

your bearings

and what points of reference

in a moving reality?

what is left?

the music of voice

the mystery of eyes

the joy of another’s

being

red book 2

I am

a persistence

in time

a physical imperative

mind

the ocean within

there is

no necessity

the accident

of existing

just an obstinate

contingency

reflecting reality

itself

red book 3

there is nothing essential

(to do)

yet the question never

stops.

I wander about thinking

and that is it

if you get right down to it

pleasure is a guide

faithless

I should say

and this / writing

why?

word & object

the desperate

embrace

argument I

I am

what I say

of myself

and what is said

of me

the sum of all

description

past present

future

strip it all away

and what you get

what you have

is what is not said

what is not known

by you

or I

I do not seek

origin

rather to unmask

the venetian

(his girl

in simple black

her eyes

the stars)

I am only belief

an infinite complex

of line & shape

everything is

captured

nothing fixed

a form in motion

amongst /

any statement

is true

what defeats us

is fear

of ascendency

word

against

word

that is all

facts are

geometric

points

for the shaping of

thought / light

forms

we create

out of nothing

to cover

and map

the darkness

it is all a pattern

of dreaming

her red / black floral

silk

flowing down

the grey

everything is perfect

we fall

to shadow

and then the rising

again the balance

in nothing

time / our conception

of ourselves

as finite

a necessity for grasping

the fix of matter is

with subtle ////

(shudders)

the brace

of form

staying clear

the shadow lives

memory’s knives

any doubt

open to doubt

no question of self

or others

final

how to proceed?

every idea inadequate

he said in the shower

if not

we have to cop Leibnitz

did the lens grinder

know this?

and what is deceit

if nothing holds?

the objective I

stands apart

and watches

the circus

into the blue

(for K)

we never step out

of the heart

either /

you live in reverence

by & large

in pain / against

every soul

a possibility

a landscape

unknown

we venture to

the physical world

a ground

for the play

of spirits

gentleness

and truth

ever our

refuge

that’s the story

how is it be described?

the paths of desire

the roamings of a soul

and yes

the mundane of a history

that bears the mark

of the objective

where the objective

is misplaced

and in any case

nothing more than

a chain of observations

held together

with nothing

we make our way

regardless

this is how

the world moves

and any account

we give

is always

after the fact

and a desperate act

to grasp

contingency

red book 4

and each life

a question

at any time

or place

how to maintain

against attack

inside

or out

we live in the city of lights

each /

an illumination

in an endless

remaking

the weave of mind

against

the absence

yes

(ok JD)

tangle of limbs

& syntax

the act of love

for nothing

art rages against

construction / we

can never be free

deny the quest

& live in grey

or / alive & blind

in passion

either way

the knowledge is

whatever it is /

you say it is

in the winter sun

1000 blues / the sky

rising to the line

green / brown

geometries

(he thinks to himself)

reality flows

through fingertips

a river of ideality?

(the truth to say)

all is metaphor

language on language

expanding / contracting

the world

is made

and as to beyond this

no word

Monday in the city

the form

is contentless

(just ask any woman)

hence: delight

we wander

amongst objects

the dream / a finished

product

the product / a finished

dream?

such is the hope

(deep seated)

to end

the immortality

desire

just for the record

there is no question of unreality

(make sure you tell this

to the insane)

it’s an infinity of worlds

(you are one collection)

I say it is the argument of light /

stance

perspective (where you are /

what’s going on)

all a matter of anyone’s say so

(try and defeat this logic)

philos

every conception

is of value

only

the question

when to apply

and no final

answer

to this

you take

a punt

the point is this:

there is no object

(but every object

and what is not

object /

it is with

out definition

and so / must

nevertheless

every eye looks

for it / every hand

reaches for it /

what is thought

but its dream

in each heart

the place of)

desire

when I was young

I was obsessed

with essence

the heart

for love

I went mad

time & time

again

until

I lost my grip

and sank

to black

fire

I was found

by accident

by gentleness

and struggled

back to ground

now I am

someone else

I watch

the colours shapes

sounds

the moving

geometries

and know

there is no

word

to describe

what is hidden

what is

not

I have this companion

girl

her touch

is my life

her joy

everything

I live for

who would

have

thought

there was

a chance

it would

come to

this

among the hills

& trees

to be

blest

red book 5

war

the

last

casualty

truth

(the sun shines)

bountiful

the history of minds /

avoid

the trap of engagement

sympathy for the idiot

kills

the essence

is only description

yes

this endless cacophony

of voice

(comes to nothing)

look to the stars

the illusion of time

(and space

an image)

we cannot touch

(and yet we map

with madness)

the source

of all beauty

behind her laughing

eyes

judith

poem

there have been those

whose kindness

I doubted

a lack of kindness

on my part

or perhaps

a treachery of doubt?

even so

the more you know

or think you know

of another

the harder to be held

by any simplicity

the virtues shine

in contemplation

in the mixture

of flesh and blood

the games of mind

the fires of passion

what is left of any ideal?

what remains of any dream?

Berlin today

the question of focus

true?

(any account

given

open to doubt)

I live only with

contingency

(I am)

without fixture

(mind

an indeterminacy

that enables)

p v ~p

outside of this

nothing

to be said

(behind silence

is what?)

in the history of days

forget

I say

do what you do

make your way

with whatever

comes to hand

your longing for

anything

and everything

is just a trick

of consciousness

you cannot

defy

against this

the end game

is resignation

(step aside)

laugh

at the gods

as to the world

regardless of

what /

action taken

there will be

the underwriting

with argument

the appeal to

reason

the claim of

authority

this is the rhetoric

the story telling

we cannot stop

and few

ever tire

of /

Merinda Park girl

(eternity)

inside

contingency

flowing through

consciousness

the translucent

it’s the land

(for Missy Higgins)

it’s the land

(a space / time

conception

true)

dirt / nevertheless

an essence made

with each

reach of hand

and in each eye

conceived

histories

beyond memory

histories

to come

it's your name

whoever

you are

from wherever

at whatever

time

if you walk

here

petra’s garden

it's just

the flow of colours

winds of beauty

the world

this mystery of light

and we are

moments / seen

in the reflection

of moments

seen /

mind

the space

of this great

dance

we cut / word

with word

this play

of passion

endlessly

the way of it

as if

searching

in the dreaming

for the dream

necessary

& pointless

everything

said

in the span

of our days

on going to war

forget

argument / logic

ethics

or at least

understand

the real game

is rhetoric

rhetoric

as a cover for

madness

the madness

behind

the eyes

the smile

the face

of any claim

to authority

and know that

any such claim

is nothing less

than

a pretence

and

deception

the point of which

dominance

and control

(the ground

of all

misery)

an afternoon with Kant

it is not

as if

we don't know

the startling fact

we do

the issue is

expression

statement of

what to say

how to say

the possibilities

endless

who can embrace?

1.1

the image

in the flow

untouched

death

prolegomena

there is no

conception

that embraces

the totality

we all think

from a particular

point of view

beware

the con artists

of universality

philosopher

preacher

or other

mad person

and as for

ethics

there is nothing

to be said

that doesn't

disappear

in contingency

keep it local

if nothing else

a tangible

focus

is what

the dreaming?

the play of colour

and substance

(mind)

on / over

the geometrical lines

(a given

before awareness)

across

the emptiness

space / time

crocodile

in alexandria

we ran to

desert winds

before the birth

of order

out of chaos

the great poets

who never

wrote a line

in the old quarter

the genius of voice

dark angels flying

in delight

and you / the lover

everywhere

meta 10

we live

in possibility

(the actual

retreats

in every vision)

the good

as that desired

or is it just

desire itself?

who can say

with confidence

what they want?

who can deny

that they want?

desire

the act

desire

the end

weight

is a point

of view

a perspective /

even so

true

depending on

where you stand

the years amount to

the state of

any

dreaming /

call it what you will

hearts a bustin'

billy boy

certainty is

a ray of light

we cannot grasp

with all

our say so

and there is no

match for

the carnival

of mind

in full swing

nevertheless

what is needed

gets done

haphazard

the grasp

on everything

the order

accommodates

indeterminacy

this the secret

of nature

we live

between

the lines

on recent events

indeed

there is no

one approach

to any problem

personal / political /

other

what leads to

disbelief /

conflict

is the claim

of truth

the point of which

is to establish

an authority

for a particular

assertion

where there is

none

and so to

rhetoric

the battle for

dominance

of statement

perspective

world view

and as to love

I never

imagined

a science

rather

the chance

of a deep

embrace

beyond

the pleasure

of touch /

beneath

the beauty

of eyes

how to see it (if I may be so bold)

actions taken

(the brute fact)

explanations given

as if

to account for

the hard reality is

we don't know

why or how

though for sanity

we must assume

we do

at least as

an ongoing

proposal

the humanitarian mission

it is as if

there is a class

of deception

that is tolerated

by the electorate

and the skill

of the politician

rests in

finding

the acceptable

lie

live in the nowhere that you came from

the world as

a matrix

of frameworks

and energy

knows

no one form

its manufacture

endless

infinite

within

the structures

it generates

existence

it's own

argument

Anselm

Spinoza

Rumi

consciousness is

internality

what we observe

is externality

the observing

is not

observed

the knowing

is not

known

Nyora

the old rusted railroad track

in space

the trees

their ancient and knotted

branches

reaching

for the knowledge

that just is

everywhere

and the dreaming

carries our bodies

through

it is the time of light

we cannot help

and wonder at

the balance

it's insistence

and fragility

a girl standing

at the bus stop

thinking

the way of forms

the beauty

words /

express structure / mind

(the world) is given

in this machinery

all that we dream / make

(and what is not

said)

the logic of colour /

and every conception

beyond sense

the very substance

(never at rest)

running /

red book 6

when the arms

lose

the power

of words

I walk / bones

and skin

as if

the world

translucent

the senses

stilled /

the beauty

dead leaves

autograph

always in

another's mind

a manufacture

of one's own

the world as given

and agreed to

each thing

a radiant of light

space / time

a construct

the necessity

of focus

I breathe the stars

I walk in darkness

here’s a way to go

approach

me slow

on a summer morning

in '72

when the sun was sweet

in the shadows

(I am full of joy)

regard

nothing less than

what is

every possibility

take a chance

(nothing for it)

as to this world

retreat

to that place

unseen

(inside) / outside

the desperation

of objects /

holding against

the dreaming

I reckon

(everything disappears)

words / faces

the infinity of logics

I spy

from a corner room

each head

an eternity

passing by

here’s the picture

do this

you

observe

describe

inside

& out

(so do you)

language

a game

(there are

other

players)

have no way

of saying

anything

for sure

the world is a lost soul

there is no home

or heart

no way of knowing

origin

direction

a cruel joke

as to

the end

no luck

I burrow in

today

prescription

push pocket belt

gopals

rowland s howard

mad men 5

-$300 i saver

dr wei

salamander?

torches

archie

waylon

ronnie milsap

newbury

taj

my life

details / data

you can represent

any way you like

a series of numbers

experiences

behaviours

dispositions

physical states

ideas

pictures

reports

memories

etc

descriptions

what?

I search beyond

the structures of sky /

& language /

for /

the inexpressible /

the elusive quick silver

of the heart

moment

in your eyes

and song

in the intricate tangle

of brain dreamings

the simplicity

enduring

in each thing

posited

before my eyes

& in every

gift

touch

lives lived

blue white rays

on a grey background

rippling

out of / into

nothing

and we imagine

in passion & mind

significance

girl on tram 11

a piece of fluidity

in a black dress

orange mobile phone

in hand

her eyes /

a flow of light blue

the gentlest sea

of memory

opera

the form is auburn hair

hanging wet

the history of distress

and anguish

in eyes that know

the horror of being here /

she leans back

against a tree branch

fossilized in purple

light

the emergence

of a space

in matter

determinism frayed

(the hold too tight

will break itself)

indeterminism

= internality

= awareness

the rocks resisted

we think

trees

another matter

perhaps

consciousness

the original sin

the power

of delusion

granted

(if a thrown stone

could think

it would imagine

it's flight

an act of will)

and so

the blindness

that enables sight

(appearance

the complete foil)

matter

discovers

anguish

nature's cripples

imagine

themselves

gods

sweetheart

don't you go

into the dark green

of lost sound

I would never

find you

the world is

an impossible

brightness

(this is why

we die)

I live on an island

there is no one else

the honey air

the trees

in their gentle

yearning

remember

the lost souls

folded over

(I am abandoned

in beauty)

when I lose

every sun

(the inside

of eternity)

there will be

no more

sweetheart

don't you go

no doubt

to carve a way

a form (as with Plato

a picture / to Witt

enduring flexible

yes

it is to make the true

however

(life)

A Song for Lawrence Ferlinghetti

the great beauty

is what is / becoming

always

the illusion / of now

I am a flowing

past

the burden of memory

of expectation

parameters

of consciousness

where would we be

without

love / at the centre

eternity

this fix of vision

dissipates

on reflection

that pretty little

self

knows not

what it is

and yet

there can be

no stand for

ignorance

in the movement

of consciousness

always the question

what?

I am a focus

in motion

and as to /

difference

one to the other

contingencies

the come & go

of matter /

of mind /

whatever

you propose

in word & action

& the constructs

thereof

the world is

effervescence

poetry /

as humanity

the making

of forms

the creation

and the loss of /

image

Heidegger

the spirit

Lucretius

the atom

Wittgenstein

the language

game

there is no distance

syntax

the death dance

and flesh

it's forms / exquisite

artistry

along the walk way

it is just a question

of level /

of being

(how renaissance)

still

you can only

see

what is given

in the structure

(of sight)

fragments of

history

walk the street

make love

in alley ways

every perspective

comprehensive

end of story

and the beautiful

normal

is amnesia

nevertheless

there is a weight

behind

and the next

thought

through the door

to be

deconstructed

immaculate

meta 11

in each vision

a completeness

an obstinacy

necessary yet

undefined

and definition

of the self

of the world

does not

penetrate

the essence

unknown

it can only be

a path offered

for the next

step to

no one asked for this

and we strive

to survive it

to make something

of it

to find happiness

you could ask

why?

I rather think

everyone is to be

commended

for the great

and silent

act

of forgiveness

we are outside of

time

we construct

the past

imagine the future

and the present /

an impossibility

eternity

you might say

a proposal

at best

she walks away

to cross the street

in faded levies

foyer

legs walk

with mindfulness

desk girl

mouth opens /

red O

(question)

sharp eyes

keyboard

fingers do

(the austere

theatre of)

on a marble

staging

floor

bodies position

relative to

bodies

(the still dance)

eyes

bird movements

in light

voice /

gesticulations

stylized

high heels

thinking

beauty is?

/ passing by /

a young woman

grey hair

Joseph's coat

I once

glimpsed

out / side

in the

colonnade

walking

in mind space

the gentle step

of possibility

love has no

direction

origin or

home

the landscape

dissolving

beyond physics

the loss

of words /

a piano

is thinking

among the trees

a fortiori

the substructure

is grey

only accessible

in the meanderings

of a viola

colours

the necessary

illusions

of light

we are electric

frameworks

in green

the art of compassionate glances

how you approach

a Ming vase

or a waitress

at McDonalds

the accident of eyes

in a moving train

worlds collide

so much knowledge

unsaid

the indeterminacy

of lovers

(here is the essence)

the gentleness

of union

any one thing

to another

is always a point

of perfection

continually

replicated

do not fear

old friend

(there is no absence)

beauty is untouched

by the vicissitudes

of wind & rain

you will be perpetually

surprised

we cannot predict

ourselves or others

let alone the stars

there is no sorrow

or joy

in clarity

as for poetry

whatever

is said

of anything

(which

if not said /

unknown)

the infinite

possibility

of description

& you can easily

see

we have no

grip

only words

docs

maroon /

tennis white

laces

blue

tight

jean / girl young

legs

ascending

Anzac Day

we have this

great failure

that comforts

it is a story

of pointless

death

(not yours

or mine)

but on a grand scale

mud & blood

thousands

in already

dug graves

another place

another time

is it that we need

to be reassured

of the futility

of idealism

or just that war

any war

is always a defeat?

these days

the world is

changeless

the equation

unbending

despite

the illusions

of time /

the senses

(in particular

colour)

it's just

different points

on the singularity

in / out of

perspective

the microscope

showed me

at 15

there is no

objective

perception

nature

via consciousness

has points of view

on itself

Melbourne town II

we are the syntax people black stick figures walking in this city of language & concrete artifacts (of the mind) adorned with dreamings meta pictures & desire (red on black) in costumes of semantics we put on / parade in / not for meaning but for colour & beauty protection against the elements (metaphysical) the reality is a river of mists you never know from one step to the next embrace

Spinoza

listening

mariah

carey's

hero

yes

liberation

is in the seeing

conceiving

beyond

particularity

the contingent

chaos

to a universal

conception

an imagined

totality

or it is just

to move

to the outer limit

that is always

our background

the geometry

that gives

reference

but has none?

how you describe

this

is a function of

your place

in space & time

science

religion

art

how you picture it

is effectively

irrelevant

that you

contemplate it

is the point

for there is no

confusion

in a singularity

contradiction

'it is raining

and it is raining'

the tautology

a moment of peace

the ground of

serenity

looking back

I gave my heart

in space & time

(an accident

among accidents)

& belief

in natural union

some imagined

reason

for it all

and here is joy

of being

the suffering too

life as lived

without certainty

for a dream

court & spark

(herbie & norah)

silver light flashes

out of wood

deep & true

the spirit thinking

with ivory hands

and the weaving

through

the eternal flow

of a silk scarf

the gentle breeze

of forever

a kaleidoscope

of colours

into & out of

the eternal blue

people

conscious

ness

in space

& time

the physics

inheritance

the accidents

circumstance

by all

means

search / test

argue

the point

there is no

authority

beyond

whatever

you are

the author

of /

we have

the internal story

(where there is

awareness)

and the

external story

of what is

observed

(a subjectivity

projected

as objectivity)

effectively

the self

and the other

perceived

a world of

consciousness / es

battle it out /

for

a claim to

the truth

(the endless

argument

that is

the world)

outside of

this chaos

the un-

perceived

that cannot be

said

12.01 to Flinders St.

the order created

is reality

as given

there is no design / er

eternity

is the space

of structure

you say

a question

of perception?

I ask

the origin of

your eyes?

afterthought

I who live in structures / within structures / you might say / am not oppressed / it's mathematics after all / (really a delight) / the haplessness of contingency / ever eludes any definition / still we build & plan & make / as if we know / the world is this contradiction / I am a sign / nothing more / to myself or others / & yes I will disappear / to be not // & it will be a fact / just as inexplicable / as the first / if ever there was / such

pictures

there is no absence

(what we see / is how we are

made)

so / the flow

and being

aware

the question

what

to do

the indeterminacy /

of now

morality

the back story of

yes / as for

is it nuclear decay

endless / indomitable

that vision of the self /

on any day

(very Plato

you might say

he really did give us

the only gift

for days & days

of rain)

just collapsing //

into white

the hills have given up speaking

(they have nothing to say)

the sky has every thought

(in figments bright)

slow walking bodies /

(mindfulness

on main street)

parallels nod

oblivion /

as if the answer is /

cobblestone-d

everywhere

without question

supplementary

it's the burden

you can consign to

forgetfulness

with the action of now

the focus sharp

(the history / never fixed

an uncomfortable

fluidity /

you know time

will end)

and it is this / that is

just why / Locke

went straight for

the clean

slate /

is (a perspective) no less

but I ask you /

what holds //

true or false

at any point

of space /

or time

so / it comes to fascination

at the very least

wonder

(oddly enough) = wisdom

it is said

addendum

(yes:

the quest is timeless

ness

the absence of the world

as it is / now

the eternal shudder

who doesn't seek

respite?

the colours / the sounds / the textures /

and the fact

remains

there is only

distraction / no release

hence

every focus

of sense / of mind

enlightenment

for the gentle traveller

madness

for the courageous

you can be

uncommitted

forget the weight

of a rock

and as to

the form

(of this or that)

substance

as light

stand apart

watch /

bear witness

to the witness

anything

you reach for

will do

the trick)

dirt music 2

we move in /

proposal /

against

the unknown /

the emptiness

as origin /

fundamental

our energy /

is the making /

in perception /

conception /

description /

of description /

endless /

indomitable

the world as

possibility /

never fixed

in time /

or space /

you or I

meditation

every act /

of perception /

conception

creation

hands & heart

unique /

this landscape

of consciousness /

of sense /

of thought

the ever changing

display

the world

as given

true

yes o mio

it was an accident

as indeed

everything is

(design

the after thought

designed

to cover

the horror)

as to why

I fell to

here

(which of course

will never be

fixed)

time and place

a point of view

in time and place

who would have thought?

even so

we must all take pause

at some point

and pretend

the world

has stopped

that there is no

flow

of consciousness

of thought

(if this is the illusion

I ask you

where is the door?)

and so

I make these marks

(syntax is the country

of origin)

and you will find

however you read it

at least the bones

a skeleton

a structure

and if I might be so bold

beauty

perhaps

in the shape of it

(is there any other kind of?)

here and now

(that old soft shoe

fred and ginger

dancing)

on this medium

or that

apparently

stable

regardless

for Anna A (Iris D on piano)

we are the bright lights in the

darkness

look closer and you will see through

the shadows all around markers for

the dead

and as the dawn breaks forth the

lights disappearing into

the brightness

into the heart of colour

/ we begin with action

we begin with substance /

(that old chestnut)

its forms / expressions /

and finally /

it all comes to

word

('in the beginning ...'

etc.)

the world is a hieroglyph

this game of being

human

who wouldn't like

a set of rules?

alas!

and every interaction /

at any level

however described

(or not)

is anyone's guess

("there you go"

the old man said

getting up slowly

from the lounge chair)

forget

essence / foundation / truth

dare I say

anything you hold

sacred

the point is

nothing is fixed /

good / bad / or purple

we run in dreaming

forget

space and time

body and soul

(starry starry night)

memory is

the baggage of

diminishing returns

the illusion

is the moment

and beyond that

only

the running

into brightness

august

how far

do you want to go?

I tell you a secret

there is no end

the surface is enough

(all and everything

you could say)

for what is any

deconstruction /

but a restatement?

nevertheless

we pretend depth

and anchor

meaning / essence

truth

as if to say

floating

in the crystal sea

is beyond

faraday st.

cobble stoned /

and blue skyed

is a focus of now

and of /

innumerable histories

of glance / and stand /

word and touch

(I was a young man here

a prince of dreamers)

and in this

shudder of frame

in these translucencies

I have thought the world

and re-thought it /

endlessly /

and with delight

words

to give form /

& life

to a detritus

of being

the manufacture

of image

and the easy

conversion

to stone

a failed banjo player

when it comes down

to it

I am just how

I describe myself /

or how I am

described by others

whatever description

is applied

whenever

and beyond this

indeterminacy

silence /

Ariel

she flows in blue sky bare feet in sand turquoise girl dreaming an electric kaleidoscope of sensation her world an infinite point of delight

the whole deal

no different to

a quick look

a turn of the eye

the question only

of space & time

as if an elasticity

of nature

an indeterminacy

of span

or if you imagine

a god / playfulness

or perhaps

just a careless

dissipation

with a crooked

smile

play like a madman / the violin on fire

reasonable heartness against chrome / geometry / then a curly haired girl reciting at the bar (bottom) we have to deal with strange shapes / inside the weather of clouds / outside a grossness tempered with theory / it is a line between / the stark presentation / I am / sick to death of evil & stupidity / what else for this trudging in mud from the very first tic tok / either or / the pretence of beauty & style how long can you keep it up / everyone and all things fall (sadness) nevertheless I say this splay of syntax / you kiddo / & the world / an indeterminate mobility / (no moorings) / & any logic we dream up / a desperate grasp / at light

specs /

the very point of

geometry is peace /

it is given us /

against

the toil of weather /

and perception

that can never settle /

we are wont

to imagine

a template

inside or out /

(is sky blue)

and it is just this:

the desire /

that is the motion

behind / the purity

the infinity of each /

(shape ) made

in the image of /

otherwise /

the impossibility

of absence /

(motion out of range)

presence as shadow

coming and going

in forms / thought

& dust

so /

you decide to

stay consistent to

the small universes

you operate in

you go the mongrel

either / or

(at any point

of space or time)

consequence

and the question

always

where to /

& why

how to be?

sub set /

outrider

I reckon

one way or the other

no advantage

(in the whole scheme

of things)

it's what you're up for

the weight

you can bare

in the light / in the dark

x = y

therefore

whatever

and I mean it

be still /

or fly

there is no reference

point

but your next

step /

and if you are

cognizant

you can regard

the matter gravely

or better still

not give it

another thought

(forget everything /

start again)

the world is just

what it is

from whatever

vantage point

you see it

& however

you try to spin

I really don't expect

I have said anything

you don't already

know /

this was just

an exercise

in geography

language

as any place

you come from

or go to

the way

and destination

be at peace

overview / the usual suspects

the battle for truth /

is the straw man

and motive / who decides

those dead terms

'good' and 'bad'?

we are self-righteous

(an evolutionary feature

I would suggest)

and we appeal to others

for support

cashed out in what?

stability or /

the bribe of affection

perhaps even stuff /

things to fill

the metaphysical hole

( )

and yes I could go on

like this

always a question of

context

the authoritarians

want an objective

standard

I can see the point

the problem is

no rule

can hold together

can maintain

(for it is just another

contingency

born to fly)

& so / the conflict

of difference

and every step :

uncertain

nevertheless

we get by /

the hard men /

and the weak

in retreat / to

the indulgence

of fantasy

and the manufacture

of illusion

and this just is

the form /

is the substance

(thereof)

and who will there be

to say nay?

something is lost /

but then

do you have a hold?

surely it is just

the pulse hot

blood to the head

(the / a chemistry of

insurgence) and so

a new template of

identity / for

the next encounter /

and yes you might

refer back to this

jagged piece

in the broken glass

jigsaw / you must

continually

deconstruct &

reconstruct

reflecting

each geometrical

form / (rapid fire

colours)

you have conjured

to make /

a self / to fit within

a space of bones

still walkin'

September

it's a scatter held together with eyes

the reasoning is slow below ground

a man in a white coat with a red hat

the bride is disappearing in her train

the action at the heart

express

in every /

& so /

the world /

an in

finite

reflection

reason

ing

(this here

kiddo)

yet

another

showing

thereof /

yodelahe

odelahe

you are /

I am

a present

ation

in the present

ation

(( ))

the witness /

& the

accident

conscious

ness

this inside /

out

insert here:

(the history

of everything)

[ ]

eyelids

soft

closing

upon

the secret

unknowing

you are carved

into

a way of seeing

a way of being

by how

your passion

finds its way

blind

in the labyrinth of

dark cells

either / or

the extinction

in blinding

light

a waiting room reflection

and you could say

contingency

just the fact

of consciousness /

for what is there

beyond

this flow of image?

what can be said?

perhaps

an iron clad logic /

of coming and going

(with no mind to know)

a music

without sound

a rhythm

with no dancers?

best to adopt

a posture of detachment

a tree in a field

the stars watching

jude

her heart

a depth without end

wider than the world

and I

a lost soul

in all this beauty

talking to Truman

yeah well

I think it's a failure of

whatever

metaphysical hold

you have

or you are held by

(likely

without knowing)

that leads to

the dive into

recklessness /

into the darkness

even violence

yourself or others

(perhaps

there is a fraying

before hand

a loss of tension

someone

has thrown you out

of the picture

and you never walk

straight again

who is to say?)

you see

we are suspended

things

and yes

we float in the invisible

structures

given us

we have made

patterns of thought

no more

no less

yet who amongst us

really believes

this space

and its figments

holds anyone

from the drop

no one

I would say

so we just keep at it

as if /

(the whole caboodle

of necessary illusions)

let me put it this way

the secret hope

in your bones

if you know

what is at stake

is just that

you will never have to

test

your fictions

on the other hand

the young

are tortured

with the temptation

what I know

the assertion

of self

what else can there be

for meaning?

there is nothing

beyond

the heart of being

its striving / to no end

and yes

it is only

a rush of leaves

in the wind /

the force of a body

against

the world of trees

dust / in motion

and as for

dreaming

an eternal motion /

with no destination

no place

to go

the inside of

everything

my heart walks

in the abandoned ballroom

its steps /

drops of light

falling to

nothing

ness

each /

at a different pitch

dark blue

to silver bright

the old piano /

holds this history

any simple melody /

broken /

turned upon

itself

and reconfigured

to a glorious chaos

beyond the capture

of mathematics

(I am

the old man

standing

in the corner

watching)

mankind: a complete history

persons

wander the earth

and are corralled

by persons /

herds of persons

in conflict with

herds of persons

old herds

new herds

reading still life by vinicius jatoba

in the library foyer

people

come and go

sit down / get up

the attendant stares

at a screen

I am tired

I think of my girl

her mind space /

her struggles

what can I say

to restore?

and is there any place

to go to

for any of us?

we all carry slow moving

dramas

in each step

from place to place

people

must be aware of death

is it just an amnesia

that avoids

the paralysis / the horror

a subtle chemistry

perhaps

or indeed a necessary

courage

that flows in the veins

sometimes strong

sometimes weak?

this much I will say:

I have learned to focus

on just what is before me

the present an eternity

if you don't look away

the drama is this:

the search

in every eye

in every hand

in the sunshine

into darkness

the beginning

is the aim of every flight

of words

into the blue

the dance of a naked hip

in shadows

the music

you cannot hear

on any prairie

and love that envelopes /

every heart

creating

destroying /

I am / you are

a collection of clouds

folding / unfolding

a centre

of brightness

never revealed

in the motion

of spirit

one might

say

crowded train

personhood

ness

as awareness

of identity

(does raise

the question

what doesn't

qualify?

I mean

at a minimum

isn't form

a form

of knowing?)

the point is:

x equals x

x does not equal y

that /

is the fixture

of perception

however

you see

whatever &

wherever

you see

(you can't beat

Leibnitz)

as to

an essence

(a unity)

of things

(the end of

individuation

its sabotage

perhaps)

a backing out

yes /

to no place /

sub specie aeternitatis

indeed

a perspective

despite

grandiose

intentions

not to mention

scope

shall I say?

entertain

for /

relief

where I live

the pale blue sky

of a gentle god

the rolling green hills

(I am in a picture

of beauty

a figure moving

down in the corner

so small

you cannot see)

the water tanks

an immovable source

there is no destruction

the world holds

the farm house

a wooden frame

in space

its stand against time

its creaks in the summer

as if it knows

the coming and going

of cattle

randomness

at the heart of order

the ever curving

watchfulness

of the wedge-tailed eagle

and his mate

koalas

nature is what happens

if we act to protect

to conserve

that is what happens

if we don't

that is what happens

morality

the choice between

sadness & joy

there is no rule

alla fine del mondo

the ancient

depth of bones

and breath /

how to focus in time

and space /

an elasticity

measurement

is what

the stretch of an arm?

I am a little worn out

toil in the garden

of vines and dreams

(intertwined)

how can it be

otherwise?

I lay down & listen

music

& a foreign tongue /

I have no interpretation

to offer

I've given that away

I just continue

in motion or at rest

at the end of the world

dr dre

here is the reason /

the neighbourhood

/ the mind

no ground / no rules

((field of beauty))

find a rhythm

hey slow and deep

voice / the pain

your mark

your structure

(this is every man)

hold to a deal /

enforce it yes

rework it / drop it

explore the possibilities

the great art of

yourself

this is the courage

become /

her eyes / her tears

the truth

koo wee rup interchange

each of us

an accident

searching for /

necessity

the game

we play

in every game

we play /

there is no

option

how to dance

words

a woman's

curve

I give you

the great carnival

top hat

cane /

& every treatise

on the rainbow

music has no

need

/ and pictures

when they run

disappear

in eyes

THE GIVING

IN THE EMPTINESS

is there

anything else

sir?

I say

the piano

has no idea

& the nun

is without her

robes /

I have a meeting

at 5

and there is no

time

the golden thread

everyone sees

out of

which /

december

the sweet motion of city girl legs

there is no history of the moment

in the floating city everyone is in love

the deeper you go the less there is

the world as the flying dutchman

one-armed lee on the st. kilda tram

lola dancing at the victory

a brief history of now

the occasion /

disappears

in the motion of

the senses

which is to say /

the mind is

a work of art

that is forever

realising

a cowboy yodel

in the background

and a veiled woman

passes by

here is the way of it /

objects in space

mind as the inside /

of out

conscious things /

or things

in conscious /

ness?

the ground is uncertain

speculation

is the life of mind

angels / electrons /

the world as /

any proposal

put

any description /

given

I am better at life

now

better at myself

I can wait

I understand

the reason for time

it is the space

for seeing

just how the world is

and just how

to place

my awareness

my actions

in some order

/ you begin thinking

there is too much

and then

not enough /

when the reality is

only that

you have

what you have

need

is out of

the question

drawing persons

to get the real

eternity / and its off shoots

required / so

therefore

art /

images in the wind /

everyone

is there / ...

Euler’s note

so / what is said

proposed

and the question truth?

what is said / proposed?

we make syntax

points / with the heart

to fix / to halt

the deluge / of ...

knowing full well

it cannot be / stopped

the immersion / in /

the beauty

star

the depth is colour

(the complete

history of eternity

in your eyes)

possibility /

the ever folding to ...

(reality)

I / am

the illusion

still // becoming

the first term

the infinite series

in every direction

now

the dolphin flies in blue

the infinity of signs /

signs for signs /

is there anything else?

without this / pretence

what?

I say: industry / (mindless)

for all intents

= joy / (as one way of seeing)

yes

& / affectation /

small potatoes really

you can pair it down

old timer

(Plato is just a luxury)

and behind it all? /

everyone just gives up /

sitting out on the street

this heat is too much

and the old italian woman

with her fan

you say /

art pepper's saxophone

metaphysics

you aint gunna shake it

from one century to the next

/ there is a room at the Prince

reserved for mathematics

no bed / a desk / a chair /

the light is always ON

& whatever happened to

jeff barry &

ian rilen's great love

of life?

yes the empty barroom /

dark & cool / forever

I am / a history of

turning through shadows

turning through

the dance of shedding /

and embrace

long black hair

appears / disappears

(the world as such)

I have no faith in substance

I tolerate the illusion

(it's carnivale at best)

words / the rays (elliptical)

connecting

signs /

we live in a maze of light

3d /

(the cage)

and kate

no one stronger /

among the glorious weak

the bar room

dispossessed /

your joy & determination /

an ever shinning light

at the bottom bar

dear kate

I know you have been to

eternity and back

and that you did it

with class & style /

all praise to your parents

I am sorry for your loss

a great loss to you / your sisters /

and everyone

look after yourself kate

the world needs you

your strength & fire

& you might be wondering

if you need the world

probably not / but it's there

and there is work to be done

and no one better for it

than you

here I am

in one of the many

possibles /

history (diffusive)

gives an idea

it's the rag tag

where ya been /

something / for sure

not I would say

anything to cling to /

you run the risk

of unwinding

(the real truth of

dreaming)

the future is /

incandescent dust /

breathless

and now / yes now

no joke / it just went /

so / forget time

space has got something

going for it

but let's be deadly

there's just no way

for the inextricables

(that's us)

to extricate anything

it's a logic

that lands you

right smack / into

parmenides' lap

& this is where

the infinity game begins

if you shake out

& get going

and really

that is just too comical /

for dirt / trees / & sky

the business /

can only be this /

and I mean / this

and go your hardest

to say what //

anything will do

and here the last word?

look

it's just a kick back and wait

(as if you didn't know)

even so /

I can't help but think

there's nothing out there ...

or (in here) /

but unknowns /

given names

o jude

he kept running

one world to the next

(definition creeps ...

to close /

after the fact

and holds /

in a perspective

ever at threat //

should you take a

stand?

the great pretence /

against the wind?

or sit in the

tequila bar

early morning or at

sunset

dealing cards

with no player

opposite?)

the deep regrets

are markers

in the equation

negative fractions /

left side / running to infinity...

= ?

and always the search

for

the integer

(God's joke

and we all fell for it

ever after)

you / nevertheless

become a better man

luck / and no reason

(just a trick?)

and if not for her love?

no semantics /

just syntax /

smashed star dust

in the dirt

& yes

multi-

plication /

data /

transfer 2 ...

forms x forms

shape

shift-

ing

geo / metry /

@ any

time stamp

ing

away yo go

the play /

is ever

sunshine / life

a point

of /

origin

uni -

verse

(1)

expand

ing

big bang

daddy

of /

replication

to the

fin

it / e

cardinals

running

fast

cast /

ing a

shadow

of 2

bright

techno

after / life

(right here)

mr.

finger

tip /

as to what is

one view

against another

it's a question

of /

who can get away

with /

the pretence / of

authority /

and who submits

it's a standover

regardless

of how it's dressed

or played out

there is nothing else

for it

we don't know

(full stop)

and we cannot live

with this /

the only alternative /

pretence

and here the issue is

geometrical

you need to have

an eye to /

shape

position / place

motion / &

style

out of /

one form ...

a perilous

contingency /

defined? /

in shape

dare i say

content by

markings /

on markings

there was just

a beginning

of this /

without notion

and held /

lived in / or

thru /

barely a focus

called ness

and then

the back sliding

to /

repeat this step

until the notions

solidify to

object /

landscape

(place) where

the markers hold

the familiar

as we have

learned to call it

steady eddy

who doesn't

drop back worn

out by the light

in those eyes

that just can't

let well enough?

and then /

you just can never

predict

the switch /

of anything or

anyone

like a meta / physical

seizure /

or the sun comes

up on another

construction

without question

or she

walked out

the door

into the blinding

& thereby

another proposal

that sprang

out of / into

the old calculus

diminishing

in the distance

of one thought /

action /

to the next

& this is

death /

minus ness

the failure to

solidify

while yr up

& running

the face

coming to /

ya / map to be

interped /

recog / nise

signs

recognised /

how? /

load up /

w/ language /

& say

to yr/self

(dust floating

in outer)

on ground

possible wrlds

screaming

(this is a picture

in sky blue)

why not?

shoot /

take a stab

there is no

tallyhoing

up /

jst / an absence

of sound

in the drk/

blu /

see

01 / in the year of misty moonlight

(there is nothing said) that

holds / beyond a nod / forget

all claims to pre-eminence /

& turn from the barkers of

truth (tho) yes they do run

the world / of

syntax

you (can) step or slip out of

the time / space work-a-day

frame / into previous versions /

& propositional constructs

still to come (here I am referr

ing to the dice in mid-throw / or

learning how to fly in the meta

sky //)

you see we try & nail down

the fluidity w/ matter = stuff

(doesn't really stand up to

scrutiny / (let alone the

elements) it flashes back to

form // and form to hands

around the (absence)) / ask

anyone w/ a slight

smile

(this here diatribe of symbols

just as suspect v innocent as /

any late night dancing : really

just need // without an

object ...)

you can wander the back

alleys / (a metaphor 4

analysis of any kind)

forever /

& never

find...

the girl w/ orange

hair / orange tank-top &

orange iPhone in hand /

painted orange fingernails /

orange jeans &

orange toe nails

w/ stars

people

get

stuck/

countries

get

stuck/

the world

stuck/

(in orbit)

on the street (wundercity)

self / sustaining / self

propelling /

the ontological argument

is / what you are

it's the fact of /

& no answer to

why

& as for the emotions /

the play of colours

within the frame

and always 2

a question of

locus / (time & space)

the impress of everything /

or its focus

in the other's eyes

(& you can't discount

sound /

and other forms of /

violence)

earlier today I met the prime

minister's grey suit / & I said

"pick them up in (our) boats

and bring them here for a how

do ya do – if it doesn't shake

out – take 'em back in (our)

boats" he said "what an idea yo"

& I said "you could also ease

up on the numbers – it's not

like we're over run"

the french have imploded

deconstructed /

& after descartes' con job

who could blame them?

& what it amounts to / is

anything that is said /

yes / who would have thought?

anything that is said

it's the action of being here

we need symbols

to occupy

our spaces &

their inter/

sections /

it all comes to &

from

an eternal fracturing of /

no absolute place

to determine which way

it goes

just pay close attention to

people talking to each other

& the penny will

drop

no rebirth / returning

or upsizing

beyond

it's only ever just as it is

(the old parmenidies' shuffle)

on this street

in wundercity

the form degenerates

regenerates (itself)

for no reason

& right now

sunshine

as we speak

reflection

I played

the morality game

with some

expertise

only now I see

the fraud

it is only

ever

how you are

received

a question of

the power

of impress

(how long can

the belief

hold?)

and now

I wish to have

no impact

to convince

of nothing

to be silent

(in myself)

and if possible

to the other

to stand among

without

pretence

gold breasts

being covered in

black silk /

& a golden arm /

attached to

the lifeless figure

turned to face

the promenade /

we walk in

glass cylinders

forms of thought &

action

the parameters set /

yet who can say

where?

there is no

immersion

in the other /

only the deception of /

& inter-action /

(the commerce

of the world)

just collision

everyone

thrown off track /

and so the utter

indeterminacy of

joy or chaos

& as to

a darkness of

perspective

the haunting

of time

(or so they say)

you can side step

with the focus of

here & now

a necessary fiction

and impossible

to hold

still /

depend on your

eyes

st. patrick’s day

(for steve young)

God / no name

or every name

the history of our breathing

out of eternity's dust

and the return to

breathlessness

on a summer's evening /

on the streets of joy

the young hearts

(never carefree)

always overflowing

and there were

old souls

too

one with /

the flickering

shadows

and the questions

of light

and what do you do

facing

annihilation?

simply accept

and in so doing

transcend

the blackness

in pleasure or

delusion?

late at night

(of late)

I wrestle with

the terror

as something

I forgot

and yet

I have always known

we must

sympathize

with all living things

in this emptiness

a crazy mind

fulness

no answer

today

april

a farmer in a truck nods

driving by

a glorious autumn day

in the hills

I am here

my brother isn't /

his death

his not-being

I cannot comprehend

PM: 6.05.59

I am best described

as ...

a contingency

(you can colour

that in /

anyway you wish)

a series of affects /

affected ...

comes to what?

a mathematics

you might say /

but who does

the calculation?

and can it be done?

and let's be

straight

there is no end point

so you make for a fix

and call it knowledge /

even so

the game is never

captured or complete

& /

when stripped down

of artifice & pretence

we stand

in a brightness

inarticulate

bloom

her heart /

the blush

what is there

to say?

I walk in green fields /

one with

consciousness /

the inner

sky /

st. kilda days

the world went on

like this here now

when I was like

that there

then

I don't know

how

I survived myself /

and the streets

or why I wasn't

just

nailed up

for

good

in the catani

gardens

a girl on a train

consciousness /

the space inside /

a determination by

the physical outer

(body)

within /

an indeterminacy /

the uncertainty / of

light = spirit

in motion / or not

vision / place or time

relative to

the proposition

put

(the world as proposed

in an infinite complexity)

grasped

into this /

the explosion of form

out of form

(the newborn's

cries)

the action blind

eternal /

recurring

and the drilling

down

a pair of eyes /

what is the heart

but a cosmic

signature

bound in uncertainty?

love

its desperation

endless

her dancing black

legs

her intelligence

defying

(art)

the sorrow

May

I dream

in footsteps

of sound

there is no

ground /

we are ghosts

of forgiveness

(the heart is lost)

the folding in

the folding out

I cannot

comprehend

every particular

held in a vision

held for what?

the dissolution

without joy

& to mark

this chaos /

we have only

pretence

& a piano

red book 136

a step up to the day

the picture

a logical constant

(empty)

for each interpretation:

the world is a given

ok /

I have no grip on

the inner sea

I am its fluidity /

held in skin & bone

pretending

physics

as I walk the streets

I imagine

I am understood

if I forget

sometimes

I falter with words

it is just that I lose

confidence

that they have any place

to be

or that there is anything

in their sound

to hold another's

eyes

winter winds

the brave

are careless

the stars are blind

we trap ourselves

with

repetition /

of repetition

(recursion)

ideas

feelings

actions

words

presentations

(yes

the ways

your eyes

are seen /

is no accident

and you know it

i.e)

either that or

no connection

one step

to the next

some pretend

a way of dealing

that is beyond

poetry

have you ever really

looked at a syllogism?

or put to piano

the play

from one particular

to another

again and again?

it's a dance of dances

the endless making

of costume

in every action /

a constant creation

of image

within image

within ....

her blonde locks

flowing sunlight

capture and hold

as if

the world is

still //

beautiful

so yes

I have a hold /

and it really doesn't

bare

it is obvious

only a question of

physical structures

as to operating

principles

heavy trucks roll by

matter is motion

what I am really

saying is

the great and deep

deception

(just is)

explanans

explanandum

(play it forward

play it back)

and the quest for?

energy is the wheel

there just is

no conception

that can contain

itself

therefore /

out on this highway

there are vehicles

in motion

deviations

within

an ordering

that is never fixed

today I sport

a long brown scarf

and a blue stone ring

days on the road

I can see the dissolution

into madness

as simply

a logical conclusion

(I am suspended

in sanity)

the days are an impossibility

time running forward and back

poetry shows

there is no end

just small deaths

fortunately

we are

mythical

creatures

beyond

any grasp

old souls

it's the old people /

walking about

carrying the silence

a heavy load

the silence

of many deaths

of loved ones

along the way

and yes you can say

hello in there

however

don't be surprised

if there is no reply

though

you may well

be greeted

with kind eyes

a smile

and the innocence

of a child

ms / on a train

girl /

legs open

wide

stretch jeans

knees

head down

messaging

Melbourne

today / winter /

arctic winds

on flinders /

swanston / bourke

every ten yards

homeless bodies

crouched

or lying

on the pavement

of this

the world's

most liveable

city

July / a tap dance in blue

the little person in the cat suit

was trying to escape

the white lamp is looking at it

one way / the red lamp has bowed

in conclusion

there are black birds flying into green

a girl in a red dress is on the run

the gold watch keeps time in a glass

case

the circus of power

the hollow clowns

and changelings

you get to see

the great deception

of principle

psychopaths

parading

their vanity

the savagery

at the heart

of every enamelled

smile

we are indescribable

the action true

every moment /

and the endless

reassessment

position to position

(as if there is

a place)

the body

/ a vehicle

of space / time

perception

(you can live

in joyous colour

paying no heed

to death)

the identity

of indiscernibles

comes to

1 or

the purity

of the untouched

heart / mind

is ever hidden

(in every heart & mind)

dignity / is existence

regardless of /

this world

a spinning pretence

of eyes / lips & hands

reaching for //

(this comedy of

becoming)

what?

and there is this

perception of

the self /

within systems of

experience /

call it the world

(in which there is

no stillness)

this is clear

morality is

the ever-changing

fix /

a defiance

in the midst of

not-knowing

what to do

(or why)

and so

we pretend

a calculation /

an intuition

a purpose

an end

and you might say

consciousness

makes its own

focus

where there is

none

et el

it's the sea of the soul

and we are the watchers

beauty is everywhere

never still

we live in eternity

and time

our measurement

true

yo yo ma

form /

the action

now /

capture

in your heart

rain

sweeping

mountains

God /

the cold centre

you bury into

the darkness

flying

timeless /

depthless

we wail

every wail

our home

syracuse

you need to be aware

the myriad of contexts /

you imagine you are one

you are a field of the possible

places to be / (meta)

ways of seeing

as you walk through the maze

you look for / desperately seek

definition / foothold

in the cobblestones of knowledge

or the ancient dust dreaming

the pure blue emptiness

beyond

I am just one

form

fixed in a gaze

an embrace /

another mind

the discernible

features

any distinction

beyond the first

impression

a matter of argument

the great argument

existence

(you have no say)

these times

the empty wind

of contingency

(ungraspable)

the eternal howling

the great pretence

of meaning

weep

for this

world

(every joy

every sadness)

the inexplicable

heart

what trump knows

more than

half the country

hates

his guts

the minority

those

who voted

for him

expect

a reality

he can't

deliver

persons

as it stands

are

continually created

billions of

centres

consciousness /

walking about

for no reason

to no end

it’s the art of simplicity

the sound of a name

the cut of a garment /

and what the eyes see

we are too easily seduced

into depth

the endless tangle

of analysis

description

of description

respect the surface

and fashion it

with beauty

I have nothing to tell you

I have nothing

to say

you know

all you need

to know

if I speak

my words

fill a space

or they are

the embrace

of yours

given to me

we are all

lost souls

who reach for

ourselves

& each other

in echoes

of the heart

wild days

Friday, January 17, 2025

play like a madman / the violin on fire

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