cut and paste

le visuelle est disparue

|tombé à l'intérieur de soi-ches sans raison et nous aussi

nous nous réjouirons au bruit des chaînes

que nous ferons sonner e retrouvé

les cloches sonnent sans raison et nous aussi
sonnez cloches sans raison et nous aussi
nous nous réjouirons au bruit des chaînes
que nous ferons sonner en nous avec les cloches
Pomagenpaomag traphesign’s modernist for__bears Forbear to tombé à l'intérieur de soi-même retrouvé
les cloches sonnent sans raison et nous aussi
sonnez cloches sans raison et nous aussi
nous nous réjouirons au bruit des chaînes
que nous ferons sonner en nous avec les cloches a yuletide arse

bli

New York exhibition ‘My Heroes: portraits of the avant-garde’ featured a set of works Elaine Lustig Cohen--

_____d facee d de e d de detourne? _______picutre other way to detourne the fetish of tzrara image. the capitaliszation of image. weight its gold in worthy its weight to boldgold.

______derive d de eyeIIeyeIyeiiieye|Mister Tzara detourne? detourne all your handle. cup andetourne all your handle. cup and facee d de e d de e|Mister Tzara detourne? detourne all your handle. cup and faceMore Pretty Pictues|Mister Tzara detourne? detourne all your handle. cup and face

e d de eyeIIeyeIyeiiieye|Mister detourne? detourne all your handle. cup and facee d de e d de e detourne? detourne all your handle. cup and face

______________

strikin images|

contrastyet

saw

Hoch

in person

not same

WeB

Eye

not same

|||||as Flesh eye

_____________
person I

not same

as

web Ieye

light it

Flight it

charming and dashboard.

 a new 'centurion' as I am heteronym to your piggishlatin.

batting yer buttin. patting yer eyebrows . curl'em up. girl. yer arse.

is glory tongue. iv'e .yer nightclerk. handy-andy. sec

profile: A horror story, the face is a horror story. It is certain that the signifier does not construct the wall that it needs all by itself; it is certain that subjectivity does not dig its hole all
alone. Concrete faces cannot be assumed to come ready- fractionyou've been very charming and dashboard.

yer a new 'centurion' as I am heteronym to your piggishlatin.

----------------------------------

batting yer buttin. patting yer eyebrows . curl'em up. girl. yer arse.

is glory tongue. iv'e .yer nightclerk. handy-andy. second saying

yer asking ?
---------------------------------------------------
_____________________
indeedingweisverybecomedwddispleasureofthetextings.

we are very cddisarming. Rmultitudespulcritudes. Oooh. datsavy. lovebubelectrobiblub

3 quarter profile ? fiction

fine fickle___ a bent in th e raod text of that eye

(think of the voice that 'says'this radio cuttings from the stream)

|knotted twisted poor grope that's her gothymoth in her bed fat bones two yer desperate winding cant unhook the stymied writing of your passage taking yourself so literally you own hand s jolt as you jerk me upwards and you come in my mouth as I come along up yours the fluted come you wanted its not darkness that's sudden its yer repetition thrashing the petition of your claws and your creature imagined alone in the night is your hand contaminated bird's throat slabbering no my slinky gross moth you want something in your arse? between the teeth of your vagina? this persona's worth baking mizz bones as for matchs in hell you're reading's again soliteral it defies your fearful breasts of suckle so come take this cock you want not forgotten but gripped so hard up your inside sex room and Me screaming all the dirty words you ever thought you wanted its' your ass creeps away not my sex


__________

and you you poor fracture
cut of your sizable
grip

hold yer wolfbeside
the bloody statuete of yer ass
please it does
you go
getting banged from behind by a dumb waiter
dressed in tuxedo wearing
jeans on her ass
her cock
goes

slide o yours

is coming

as a mouth
in my chinese

|mother fucking lov e fuck|
(the fantasm haunts'
every fantasy is a group fantasy)

Tristan holds his nose for the apocalypse



____

Oedipius in your ass cries
Mama

and you say

you no 1 and you no 2

etcetera

________________________________________
she's winter frozen (in her) bucket |

__________________________________

hyena __ wooly ears . cuts the coyote copycat~ of amber and oil these books wore their path? she's shagged sharpened f ~ theory of the rex. charing the embers cooking up the juice. some take it that
____________________________

take the drapery away what do you get?|

Ballade des dames du temps jadis

Dictes-moy où, n'en quel pays,

Est Flora, la belle Romaine;

Archipiada, ne Thaïs,

Qui fut sa cousine germaine;

Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maine

Dessus rivière ou sus estan,

Qui beauté eut trop plus qu'humaine?

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!



Où est la très sage Heloïs,

Pour qui fut chastré et puis moyne

Pierre Esbaillart à Sainct-Denys?

Pour son amour eut cest essoyne.

Semblablement, où est la royne

Qui commanda que Buridan

Fust jetté en ung sac en Seine?

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!




La royne Blanche comme ung lys,

Qui chantoit à voix de sereine;

Berthe au grand pied, Bietris, Allys;

Harembourges, qui tint le Mayne,

Et Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine,

Qu'Anglois bruslèrent à Rouen;

Où sont-ilz, Vierge souveraine?...

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!




ENVOI

Prince, n'enquerez de sepmaine

Où elles sont, ne de cest an,

Que ce refrain ne vous remaine:

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!


________ De François Villon

ù boivent les loups...

ouvre encore les yeux les distances fuiront entre les doigts les portes se démasqueront la rive s'approchera des lèvres de la terre même sous la meule de sommeil il n'y aura plus de solitude tout sera plein profondément dans l'odeur de foin et de soleil les mots cesseront quand l'insatiable secret qui habite à l'écart des enclos et des corps aura fait taire la nudité des mots les mots cesseront – ouvre encore les yeux – les sens profonds seront ensemencés et le fenil des paroles de soleil en sera plein les ombres tomberont en poussière où boivent les loups (1932) Tristan Tzara

______________________

Aux pieds de trousseaux de clés aux pieds de calfats qui boivent ...... Et vous les loups maigres par ces bises aigres? Quoi donc vous arrive? ...

-----------------------

Rêvé Pour l'hiver.

L'hiver, nous irons dans un petit wagon rose

Avec des coussins bleus.

Nous serons bien. Un nid de baisers fous repose

Dans chaque coin moelleux.

Tu fermeras l'œil, pour ne point voir, par la glace,

Grimacer les ombres des soirs,

Ces monstruosités hargneuses, populace

De démons noirs et de loups noirs.

Puis tu te sentiras la joue égratignée...

Un petit baiser, comme une folle araignée,

Te courra par le cou...

Et tu me diras : "Cherche !", en inclinant la tête,

- Et nous prendrons du temps à trouver cette bête

- Qui voyage beaucoup...

Arthur Rimbaud

----------

Romance sans Paroles

Dans l'interminable

neige incertaine

Ennui de la plaine L
aLuit comme du sable.

ans lueur aucune On c

Le ciel est ce cuivre
Sroirait voir vivre Et mourir la lune.

Des forêts pro

Comme des nuées Flottent gris les chêne
schaines Parmi les buées. Le ciel est de cuivre

ir la lune. Corn

Sans lueur aucune On croirait voir vivre Et mou
reille poussive Et vous les loups maigres par ces bises aigres?

a neige incertaine Lui

Quoi donc vous arrive? Dans l'interminable Ennui de la plaine
Lt comme du sable

Paul Verlaine

---------------------

BALLADE.

En reagal, en arsenic rocher,

En orpigment, en salpestre et chaulx vive;

En plomb boillant, pour mieulx les esmorcher;

En suif et poix, destrampez de lessive

Faicte d'estronts et de pissat de Juifve;

En lavaille de jambes à meseaulx;

En raclure de piedz et vieulx houseaulx;

En sang d'aspic et drogues venimeuses;

En fiel de loups, de regnards et blereaux,

Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!

En cervelle de chat qui hayt pescher,

Noir, et si vieil qu'il n'ait dent en gencive;


D'ung vieil mastin, qui vault bien aussi cher

Tout enragé, en sa bave et salive;

En l'escume d'une mulle poussive,

Detrenchée menu à bons ciseaulx;

En eau où ratz plongent groings et museaulx,

Raines, crapauds, telz bestes dangereuses,

Serpens, lezards, et telz nobles oyseaulx,

Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!

En sublimé, dangereux à toucher;

Et au nombril d'une couleuvre vive;

En sang qu'on mect en poylettes secher,

Chez ces barbiers, quand plaine lune arrive,

Dont l'ung est noir, l'autre plus vert que cive,

En chancre et fix, et en ces ords cuveaulx

Où nourrices essangent leurs drappeaulx;

En petits baings de filles amoureuses

Qui n'entendent qu'à suivre les bordeaulx,

Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!

ENVOI.

Prince, passez tous ces friands morceaux,

S'estamine n'avez, sacs ou bluteaux,

Parmy le fons d'unes brayes breneuses;

Mais, paravant, en estronts de pourceaulx

Soient frittes ces langues envieuses!

Les portes sont ouvertes

____La clocharde céleste_____________________ElSe_____________Lasker-Schuler

'Dix loups sont venus s'abreuver à ma source.'

'Lors de son discours du 20 novembre 2003, pour l'acceptation du prix Nobel de littérature, Elfriede Jelinek fit un vibrant hommage à Else :

« Écolière j'ai adoré la stature extravagante, exotique et bariolée d'Else Lasker-Schüler. Je voulais à tout prix écrire des poèmes comme elle, et même si je n'en ai point écrit, elle m'aura beaucoup marqué ». de EspRiTs Nomade

------------------------------------------- Gottfried Benn, amant puis ennemi car rallié au nazisme, dira d'elle « ce fut la plus grande poétesse lyrique que l'Allemagne est jamais eue ».

Karl Kraus, l'avait désigné comme « la plus forte et la plus impénétrable force lyrique en Allemagne ». Ceci pour situer l'immense Else.

---------------------------------------------------------
et ici tzara notre père non père

Les portes se sont ouvertes sans bruit ce sont des ailes

de lourdes landes aux bras tendus

les steppes de fer enjambent les canaux

parsemés d'ossements de caravanes perdues en route

les corps tendus des routes suspendues

brûlent dans le gosier des froides foules

dans le lit du fleuve gît une lumière fauve

et fend l'air à la proue de verre

mûrir les yeux dans la prison des mers

endormir dans les nombres

les galets parmi les rayons nourriciers

aucune douleur n'amorce les vagues de lèvres

l'ennui s'est échoué sur la plage de textiles sauvages

et les sabliers des corps de soleil

immobilisent l'heure et la charrue

fumée

ligne

amer

une nuée de fleuves impétueux emplit la bouche aride

ni l'homme ne rencontre l'homme

ni la barrière de pierre et les glaciers d'hommes

nus n'ont visité ces lieux ce sont des ailes

les portes se sont ouvertes sans bruit

personne ne tremblera - un cri tourmente la laine

l'existence même

et les mauvaises pistes de clairons

foreuses de tempêtes ce sont encore des ailes

sous les écailles des racines se vautre un soleil pour vautours millénaires

il sonne des éclairs dans la fatigue des eaux

_________________________ from ~

Où boivent les Loups ~ 1932 ------------ Where the Wolve Drink --- think of 1932 a crucial year ~ .

Nota Bene _ That after his very earliest poems,poemsthat isthat were not prose poems, None of Tzara's poetry is ever_ punctuated__ each poet in fact creates her own PunCtuation Marsh __ One exception are the two exclamation points used in Approximate Man.

contrasting combinaisons

________________ left his punshuashean machines
along the homefront
of the bola
molar

: then the night

then: when the night

dock redock clock unclocking

----------------------------

two kind

" you are too kind ... professor.." .... she says ... I look around...? doctor? lawyer ? beggar man thief? poet? chair man of the chiaroscuro ? of her body ? its laminated white black blue blue as her nerve?

I am not kind enough....

one is never

_________________________

in the kindergarten

in the kinder garden of your lips
lush as any lake
you were kind to this fellow feeling along the long back of your shore

a shire I stopped to play in a while
as though any other medium had hands along your thighs

no one ever as our lips
over these hush a brush lips
taking chances throwing providence its way
of making sounds
 

doing the rounds the doctor
rounds anointing your feet your breasts

all over my mouth

________________________

I wont forget the garden of your feet
and any other telephone call
mussed bydesire wings
alongs mouths
that tied
our
clandestine napes


--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I' am not sure who wrote this and when. when I wrote it who? who I wrote hen. En morpheme alibaba seventh thievery. and the dictionary a? non

~

you saw

last night you were happy happiness so exquisite you could have cried

today you are a dog on the run on the ruins heaping the something of something and you wonder what this happiness and this sorrow you who are never sad

you saw snow this morning boding

hateful winter

(that woman's body wont fit in yours

night is )

(rough winding )

(unclimbing )

a clattered slipper

shipping off from the agent's book

the case is redudant hours spent mocking the Virgin clouds

your judgement the hairs on your hair create standing creeds

memory is the parsnip that undoes favours and all the receipts wont

return your kettle

whistle little boat heap your tongue

true lovers cry out things others don't dare to think

were ....

.

what were you expecting,

the Ten Commandments?

.

Eviction Notices

eviction notices

always come in two

get the hell

out Jesus.

scram beat/get the hell out

out the hell/ get thee

II

invitations blandish brushes

exile

expatriation

inpatriation

out in

in out

yoyo

yoyo

yoyo

youyou

yo

yo

.

brushes, brushes, brushes off,

"why don't you marry him?

why don't you marry him, then...

what?

why don't you ... "

.

So they kicked the bum out,

real risen, (my) jack of Christ,

Metre sandals and the whole shebang.

"Come back

get out, "

Second coming.

Not quite

like any other

gyre.

A human flat tire.

'What was that,

about a fat tired,

a fat[e] worse than death?"

Think about it.

3.

What was that, mister

Wattles?

Easter Sunday

thinks of the rebels.

4

Call it, the Prelude//

costic collage.

5

that was writ

by a stuffed shirt

whose idealism doesn't bear

examining

yer accent tweaks

its park

now what?

you curdle inside

?

shaft sunlight

bud weeds

piss vinegar

ring salt

__________

this way you love

____________

midnight

_________________

midnight's regained its adage rough edge borne to wild the body's beast_


__________ thoughts and eyes've murmured their trouble
the stairs down the stairs the clock goes double



______________

Sleeping

_______________


Tristan 's sleeping the long one aware of the nights around him . Not that Tristan of the treasure sad with his mad measure the impossible glove



the other with the wearing night across the span of history's long spoon mouth supping the bog the perverse Chronos eating its children spangled on the back of its emptier famish

____________________________

as the dark has no eyes

Later when the dark went down, She met him again. She gave him a
stone, a stone she had sucked in her mouth. They spoke the name together

it was a chord in the sun then. She had lifted him up without knowing.

------------------------------------

Then the words sang rang with the first toll of the breath she gave him.

______________________________

this is a longer longer longer . yes . Cd nows shes longer as it witch broom.

breast

In what voices does a poem speak. one cannot really speak of the poet's voice. that's a misnomer. one can speak of the poem's voice[s] _ the actual speaking/reciting voice of the poet, the one who writes and reads aloud, is another matter. to confuse the two, which is what literary criticism has done, and subsequenetly the general public is to fuse the actual voice, and the 'inner ones' of the text. I hat e to use the word text this way because of Mister Textuality and gang have sort of wrecked . it.


I mean Dereader of course. Dereader liked to pronounce. Poets pronounce all the time Pronoucing the word of a verse; he was a fine fellow yet he was not doign what we speaking about.For now. So when we say it we mean Not that Text, but another Text To disassociate writing with l' Écriture ? well one cannot . actually. because what Barthes says about the writerly text versus the readerly is true. and it fits around the notio n of expression/content/ substance discussed by our friends over in philosophy. Tzara speaks of manifest and latent poetry. This is not the ecriture notion of Barthe but it runs along a similar or parallel path\ he says poetry is a state of mind and living. What is living and what is a state of mind____________ the manifest of poetry is the what is seen when you read by any poet and the latent is the aura of poetry in things and around them the intense feeling of living in the subjective moment of an expérience and then beyond that something more or less objective which cannot exist in the 'normal' mode of daily grind.
if one is going to be banal about it its best just to leave it alone and just write. Just writed.Juste writed. Juste. Le mot injust et juste right wrong the anexact /approximate as Tzara the sound sense, not the semantic.


_______________________________________ call this ; some thin thing. slim hip of chance.
if a lover held a pair of earrings.
__________________
around the ball a crystal ball. two lovers clacked rou [Crystal suggest Triste]al,

round[talk about parts that dont fit]
nd one another's mouth. Its a Mouth standing [mouth as object]
in in the skythe sky. ( do we use the contraction? laziness of the contract!)
[the sky's a disgusting and repetitive image
trope de ! trop mon ami!
mais que est ce que on peut faire
les mots sont mort
de trop]





and your breasts, would you ride these balls ov'r them? kissing lips again. we' dkiss

-------------------- what does this mean?

in the hurried last minute
craziness (of their love)
want to kwant to know now everything

she __ to know Smell

does he smell? if he smells how /is the nose? okay relation of noes to gnosis the outside ridge of the human body _ where does he and how does

in the roof of their mouth a


cant say what they say except its not empire nor midland

cld.it be they've strung the wind in their teeth?


___________________________
(commentary this is pure
contralto
bliss to its piece

underlines
g'ood' break of phoneme
morpheme causing treble

_____is the lyric in this case an extension of Mona's efforts?

_____________________this has become paper. now paper is beautiful and

unlike blogs it endures.sothen.yes, so then.
and its quite light to carry, on the WHOLE.
yet.


blogs are lighter to lose


books are boring

i need a book in your head
is a book a body surely its abody? our body's a book. a volume a village.



--------_______________________________________________________




Nota Bene: All the personae in these texts are fictional

_______________________