Thursday, January 22, 2015










      


   THIS    IS    THE    DAY






                                
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             PART I
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            This is the Day







































This, this day, this is the day   This is the day we get up









































He has forgotten


























The mystery, the method, the















































formula
















































The why























































































He has lost






















































It





































































































It












is












lost



































































It is








said of him



















































That      he



































lost








































































It







































































The glass, the secret:





of































































the

















































ruby glass











































































This    this  glass:       







look  at  this  glass












































































It is, a, glass:



















the glass  is  without  sin








































































The crack is stained :







































































only  the  crack  is  evil



































































































I  see  them  running  up a  hill



































































































What is your ....?































































































How strange .   .   .    ?





































































































There is no one: no house, only debris












































How  strange:



                a whole town of glass



























































How can people live
in a glass house?



































Speak



















“I   .


   .           .”































































Again!        Before  the  time  goes







































































                 It  is  cold 







































































































I want the red glass








































































































































    You will never see the sun again























































































                   




               







    "The Ruby is our master’s melody "







                         









































































The  davenport  is  here








































































When night falls, the faces will die


























































                                      "I want the red glass."


















































































Everything is in this land, and everything is in the ruby





























































































































But, like sleep-walkers, people 

                                 

            walk toward their doom











































































  Everything is gone



















































































































        "It is the time to discover your shoes."









































































Is Ascher dead? 


Will he dance? 


Make him dance!


Is he dead? 


Make him dance till he rattles








































































































































                                                    "It is 
                                                     our day"


































She is cooling and she will not crack anymore







































































































He who has three loaves and 
drops one on the way 
must not sleep

   







   
   
















































      

















                                 “This is the day to stand up”




































.



























It is dark















































































































  “For twelve years there has been no fire, 
  and now my shoes are gone”














































                                               

                                                     *













































































Life oozes from all









































































































































.





























                                                                  *







When the black box drops down, a 
green and yellow dust rises












































































It is dark



                                                            


























































Every  s m i l e   is    a     g r i m a c  e








































































I like you      You




ha






ve





a



























heart  of  glass



















In the forest the cock crows, but the people are dead






___________________________________________________        

                            PART II

 ___________________________________________________      











On the Island, for centuries, some forgotten people have lived






















They sail away into mystery










_____________________________________________


                         PART III 
  
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There is no memory   






















The clown      






 The day  of  the    fumbling














balloon






































































He says:       





                      “What of the red?
                       What of the secret house?”


























                                                   *











































































The giant approaches with cold thoughts



























__________________________________________


                                      PART IV

___________________________________________





































The chair is where she sat






















A   cry     in     the     vacant       face










































































.







































We must not 
The  silence  hurts  me



















































































No, I am not you





















No!




























































Many     things         are:    



















































The silence disquiets me




























































































                          *                     *                        *


























        GO






































 SLOW





























                                              *            *           *
     











I





































































cant






























look silence







































and



































the wax men









in the face




___________________________________________________


                                   PART V

____________________________________________________





This is the day you get up          The  glass  place  is













on  fire
























































This  Is  The  Fire  Day




















































































It  is  pure         Nothing   is




cracked   or   stained








































































































“For twelve years there has been no fire,


and now my shoes are gone”









.....























































































L



i




f




e






















o



o





z





e









s 






















































It







is





















dark


























































I like


















you















You have a














heart

































of























glass











 ................................................................................


Monday, January 12, 2015


        This 


is the Time of the Things














SOFT 


YELLOW 


BONE 


LAUGH





these things these things these things


























>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>





















































































































HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH
WEINER HANNAH WEINER HANNAH WEINER











































           
these things this space this place these times this life and what are we
and where are the lights for how can people live in glass houses and
you are dead why do you fly it is November 1886 and it is teeming with
reactions falling as leaves in lyric dots or posits so exquisitly placed and
it was then we heheld the monstrous eminence as all bent in wonder
on that day of wonders I had meat and beans and wine it was


















































For centuries they waited full of profound insanities on the unknown island...





they hide their heads; they hurry on



































        C R A Z Y   W O M A N



























































































FUTILITY























MATHEMATICS MEETS RELIGION
AND CELAN AND THEY
ALL STRUGGLE WITH
CANTOR'S INFINITIES
BUT THE INFINITE EVADES: FOR:
NOTHING COMES FROM NOTHING





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________________________________________________________________


I JUST WANTED TO DO IT


















YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE SUN AGAIN



THIS IS THE DAY TO STAND UP












































__________________________________________________________
 HOW SMALL MAN'S HANDS ARE AND HOW MUCH HE / SHE CAN








The hand that holds a pen, is as subtle as a billion flies.













REPETITION IS TRUTH

















NOTHING CAN BE DONE    














THE EPISTEMOLOGICAL ONTOLOGICALISTICAL EXISTENTIAL
PHENOMONOLOGICAL AND NIETZSCHIAN SCREAM FOR LOGICAL
IMPOSSIBILITY AS NOTHING HAPPENS IN ETERNAL CIRCULES
AND FOND PATRIOTS SCREAM FOR FREEDOM AND RIGHT AS
THE DARK ONE LAUGHS WITH EVERLASTING MIRTH AND CYNICAL
DISDAIN AS WE SELF DESTROY AND REPEAT AND REPEAT AND
REPEAT AND REPEAT AND REPEAT AND REPEAT: OURS IS THE
FAULT IN MORE WE ARE SINNED AGAINST OURS IS THE SEARCH FOR THAT
WE CAN NEVER FIND WE






MATER MATER MATER MATER MATER MATTER MATTER MATTER
ALMA ALMA ALMS ARMS ALARMS OUR MUTTER OUR MUTTER




25 PAIR CABLE TERMINATOR LABLE 25 PAIR CABLE TERMINATION
CABLE BOX FOR LOCATION "LOOKING INTO THE HEART OF LIGHT,
THE SILENCE" AND WE FIND THERE IS TOO MUCH REALITY









_______________________________________________________________
I CURSE YE YE HYPERFINE POLYPHEME













Sigwick bent to his task while the objects talked endlessly of his peculiarities; the
unhappy man was in a fever of fear for





THEY DANCED THEY DANCED LIKE SWASTICAL COMICAL COMMIESS
AND NOTHING
BECAME ANY BETTER:
LET'S GET PESSIMISTIC
IT'S A REAL WORLD OF BETRAYALS
AND


 'ALL THAT USELESS LOVE'


                                                 




JOLLY WERE THOSE YEARS, JOLLY AND 
TRAGIC THE TIMES

BUT WE HAD HAM AND EGGS 


FOR LUNCH AND

A GREAT CUPPA AND WE 


TALKED HAPPILY

IN AUNTIE'S LOVELY ENGLISH HOUSE










NOT ALL CRYSTALS ARE PERFECT (?!!): NO CRYSTALS ARE PERFECT

NOTHING IS PERFECT: WE AWAIT : BUT WE HANG IN THERE LIKE CLOV

AND HAM AND STAN AND ..... AND WE RECALL WATT.....AND

THOSE 'HAPPY DAYS'....AND WAITING....AND 'KRAPP'S LAST....'

AND THE MOUTH, THE ENDLESSLY BABBLING MOUTH...






THEY  MAY  BE  FORCED  INTO  ODD









WE ARE NOT BEMUSED: BUT SOMETIMES WE

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                                                                  FINIS









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