Monday, 29 October 2012

All the great french books on alchemy

Saint germain, Sadoul, de Rola, Fulcanelli

He Walked to Jerusalem

Barefoot

from Nancy Brat
Seperate the real thing
From the wishfull thinking
Life is serious
But art is gay
There you are
Legitimising
hell again


Harsh words,

Best ignored

Hesitate and you're

wiped
black trees
In the blue seas
Below, are
digitised tears
Streets wide with
Illiterate confetti

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Liebe Orchidee


Glamour leaps out of the
Pools of her eyes
its not always what you express 
that shews the real intention beneath
To be in the foregaze of
shadow pamphleteers
it has never felt as hollow as 
it does now
yet.  
now cladded in warm manure,
worried the romantic veneer would 
evaporate, the Rommeer polish
The old jail is now a new hotel,
room service continues.

Friday, 19 October 2012

Into Eternity Unawares


To arise mutally
The sky is, in a way
The mother of the stars
Of course no woman is a mother
Until she has child
Space doesn't come to be
Matrix of the world 
Until there is a thing to nurture 
Opposites arise mutually.



All this incessant marching to
and fro the twenty four hour store
Gurning the tins
"Intelligent ?  intelligent enough to be
resourceful in lean times"

Sunday, 14 October 2012



Reflect in the knowledge
you are loved.
the child who's parents
are resigned
to their ashtray hair,
 & declasse cocktail evenings
and the miserable harvests
of their empires
are
Drinking like camels
from the true vines


Don't trip over the powerlines
you gotta walk between them
the charmless and the bland
cannot persevere because
they are crying from the 
heart of annihilation

Saturday, 13 October 2012

..but love is ego's dissolution


Regrets ?  I've a collage-full
called the Avalanche
Libido and Anorak, Freud's primo mobiles
leave no room for 
the alchemical dissolution above,
Only for perpetuating Id's and eggs,
doms & subs
This is quite for the course
in courtships preceding
but not in the catastrophe of love itself

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Out of great sadness
Come terrific silences
And not so deliberate denials
Only rarely comes great beauty

Was she wearing faux fur?
Or did rivers run with the blood
Of onyx, wildcat
The bucket seats were done out
In walrus hide

I'm on the lunatic fringe
I'll shave my hair,
Wear a wig
join a union,
join a guild

difference between tory and conservative

 and Midas' joys our Spanish journeys give
we touch all gold, but find no food to live  - Donne

 

Tory Conference - Britain...resuscitate, rise, revive..to Continue progress.. To compete with the old despotic nations* is folly.
Why not Conserve?  Why not resign ourselves to a Deliberate Cuban model ?  (Deliberate, meaning planned preservation of quality architecture and motorcars rather than unintentional neglect due to political ostracization)$.  Restoration is the answer to this puzzle of what could be the New Industry..(also converting new, clean engineering to fit with old housings)  After all a lots been built, that we haven't already torn down.  The Fruit wool exchange debacle, Spitalfields...is an example of what we shouldn't be doing any longer, space expanding unit condensing so developers can profit flogging phony hopeful office-futures to yuppie mugs who want desperately to gleam with 1990's optimism, wear white collar, and to appear as fresh as the latest automobile.  This may all be nothing more than a cry for turning society into buddhist beggar-bowling but maybe we should get with the third world, man, and start recycling coke cans, cars, cycles, and buses..the junkyard is the limit e.g.  this vintage mercedes made in Madagascar from tiger beer cans: 
 














Civil virtues with 3 graces, lets do what nobody expects and manage our decline as if it were the declension it surely is. Lets face the actual problems instead of ignoring them in favour of future boom fantasies - an industrialism which nobody has wanted in Europe since the last war, except for the Germans because there was after all nothing left for them to do but build beetles in derelict factories for a vast opening yankee market.  The golden age, that beauty of 50's capitalism, which was so effervescent in the shadow of A-bomb, that spirit can not return, the environment cannot be exploited anymore and besides, aesthetic design values now are atrocious, hollow & nihilist in comparison.. As regards the competition..we can't compete now that there is no more west to win, they scoured that out since colonising California after WW2 and it finished neatly with silicon valley.  Only place to go after that was the middle east (in neuro-geographic terms, a blind alley).  That was the end of the line, the rest is..inward turning, Nowhere to go for "America" just like everywhere else folks...but to what it is already, has achieved / just don't make a theme park out of it.  Or, war with China ?  Someone will come up with moral reasons for that, surely ?  Accept yourself, ex-industrial countrymen; unless we are only able to define ourselves with pointless intrepidations and external vanquishings.  We're already vanquishing everything with abstract vehicles because we believe we've the right to do so.


*modern industrial nations
$ this problem isn't limited to a country like Cuba 

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Mon cher, don't take offence
it was all rendered in English
you never saw my horse, Frenzy, 
headbutt a tiled wall

The scent of truth or, 
the soul of youth
Beauty is pain, because pain 
is truth and hencewith 
true art is tragic

In the town I live in 
almost all the windowpanes
are soiled
How could I be 
slower than my mirage of love?

Sunday, 7 October 2012

Womack

please baby
forgive my
heart,
its not that the problem
lies
anywhere in there
like all men, I'm just a liar.

you've stolen all the tears
like there ain't
enough starry dew
for the both of us

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