12.20.2010

UNTITLED





Ongoing series, marker on Moleskine

12.06.2010

27:7

The full soul loatheth an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.

11.12.2010

HARBINGER

937


It is a vision of numbers. We are going toward the Spirit. There's no doubt about it, an oracle, I tell you. I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I'd rather remain silent.

photo by val telberg

11.03.2010

THE HEAVY BEAR WHO GOES WITH ME

The heavy bear who goes with me,
A manifold honey to smear his face,
Clumsy and lumbering here and there,
The central ton of every place,
The hungry beating brutish one
In love with candy, anger, and sleep,
Crazy factotum, dishevelling all,
Climbs the building, kicks the football,
Boxes his brother in the hate-ridden city.

Breathing at my side, that heavy animal,
That heavy bear who sleeps with me,
Howls in his sleep for a world of sugar,
A sweetness intimate as the water's clasp,
Howls in his sleep because the tight-rope
Trembles and shows the darkness beneath.
--The strutting show-off is terrified,
Dressed in his dress-suit, bulging his pants,
Trembles to think that his quivering meat
Must finally wince to nothing at all.

That inescapable animal walks with me,
Has followed me since the black womb held,
Moves where I move, distorting my gesture,
A caricature, a swollen shadow,
A stupid clown of the spirit's motive,
Perplexes and affronts with his own darkness,
The secret life of belly and bone,
Opaque, too near, my private, yet unknown,
Stretches to embrace the very dear
With whom I would walk without him near,
Touches her grossly, although a word
Would bare my heart and make me clear,
Stumbles, flounders, and strives to be fed
Dragging me with him in his mouthing care,
Amid the hundred million of his kind,
The scrimmage of appetite everywhere.

10.27.2010

X. 82.

7. Ye will not find him who produced these creatures: another thing hath risen up among you.
Enwrapt in misty cloud, with lips that stammer, hymn-chanters wander and are discontented.

THE DISEASE

A nightingale once said to a peacock:
'When I trill, people gather to listen to the beauty and purity of my voice -- man may be a murderer but he is also an aesthete.'
The peacock listened well, and decided to get an admiring crowd for his beautiful plumage, something far more exquisite than anything that the nightingale could show.
So he went to a place where human beings congregated, and pranced in front of a group of people, folding and unfolding his tail, strutting and thrusting his feathers in front of everyone's eyes.
One of the men said:
'There is something wrong with that unfortunate peacock -- he cannot keep still. It must be some illness.'
So they seized the peacock and killed it, in case the disease spread to their domestic fowls.

10.26.2010

AM I IN YR ROOM

SO ARE ALL YR DEAD WHO HAVE NOT GONE INTO OTHER BODIES IT IS EASY TO CALL THEM BRING THEM AS FIRES WITHIN SIGHT OF EACH OTHER ON HILLS U & YR GUESTS THESE TIMES WE SPEAK ARE WITHIN SIGHT OF & ALL CONNECTED TO EACH OTHER DEAD OR ALIVE NOW DO U UNDERSTAND WHAT HEAVEN IS IT IS THE SURROUND OF THE LIVING

BENEDICTION

1.24.2010

NC






North Carolina. Roadside shrines and lodging. The shrines, along with small family burial plots were all along the route south. I would love to travel it again.