Friday, June 13, 2008

For Some

The Squid

“In the past the man has been first, in the future the system must be first.” – Frederick Taylor

A perfect algorithm,
a perfect search engine,
understands exactly what you mean
and gives you back exactly what you want,
to solve problems that have never been solved before.

Pancake people,
spread wide and thin.
Bare ruined choirs,
where late the sweet birds sang.

After a while I went out
and left the hospital
and walked back to the hotel in the rain.

Once the invaders seed is sprouted,
Its indigenous hand is raised,
As wings that spread out
Among the land’s horizon,
Then beyond,.
The ocean is lovely today.

Picasso is Blue

"I have tried to express the terrible passions of humanity by means of red and green," Van Gogh wrote in 1888.

three most constant and urgent needs
effortless available sex
"Cuando tengas ganas de joder, jode"

"Where are we coming from? Who are we? Where are we going?" Gauguin asked.

From who we were, not who we are.
Not who we were.
A spinning, sometimes lurching, not always forward,
Around and round a circular path, that leads not back,
But to a place further and further away from the past,
To the future and beyond.
Where the ocean is lovely today.

not "till death do us part" but at least until the attachment stopped being passionate, inspiring, or convenient.

“These children, who have no one to caress them, understand everything. These women whom no one loves now, are remembering. They shrink back into the shadows as if into some ancient church. They disappear at daybreak, having attained consolation through silence. Old men stand about, wrapped in icy fog. These old men have the right to beg without humility.” - Guillaume Apollinaire

“They were against everything—against unknown, threatening spirits. I always looked at fetishes. I understood; I too am against everything. I too believe that everything is unknown, that everything is an enemy! Everything! Not the details— women, children, babies, tobacco, playing—but the whole of it!” – Pablo Picasso

My Quiet

“We will not have demolished everything if we don't demolish even the ruins!" - Father Ubu

she responded with caution and calculation,
while my math was rude
and my caution disparate
the so long lingering
so inconsolable
it was not fair
or fair thee well
my untranslatable prose
lay wicked at my feet
my this and my that
it was all hers to have
if she would but take it into
her arms,
left to wander
for a season
the additional subtraction
becomes divided,
with every cautious avenue.


The eye of the bull – Picasso

has a thousand reasons to keep silent
and turn a deaf ear to the flea
who pisses the rain from so much coffee.

“I prefer to invent rules of my own than to bind myself to rules which do not belong to me.” – Picasso paraphrased.

But alas all rules have been invented,
None are left but to copy or ignore,
Be caught in their webs,
Or advanced by their preeminent popularity.

In politics, all
the artists are innocents
and when left alone
they may flourish
or wither
according to their amusements
which can not but be influenced
and then maybe later in its growth
wreak its own glorious havoc
or as eventually it must
transcend the dust
that melts in our history.