Friday Night Karaoke with F.
May 21, 2010 at 7:00 pm | Posted in australian poetry, contemporary poetry, ekphrasia, genre isn't dead yet but it should be, performance, writing | 7 CommentsTags: Albrecht Durer, Henri Rousseau, Leo Sayer
Happy Birthday Albrecht Durer. They tell me you were also prone to crankiness inherent in the precision obsession being such a perceptive mathematician of perspective. We are still enjoying your mass reproduction revolution collapsing the distinction between the low art and the high culture. I would clasp my hands and pray if I still felt that was an appropriate response to soldiers advancing through the mists of time and various other ridiculous apparitions. These days, I measure lines of sight only in decibels. Approximate the distance between the letters involved in, “It’s only typing,
Sillyness, willinilliness, numbers have meaning only in context, “why is it pouring rain”, slamming his glass down on the piano, get some perspective, son, Rousseau had tiggers too and the softness in their eyes as they watch us watch her rise. I’m only typing “the 736 bus will be 14 minutes late again” and I do, remember those blue berets must be on the manifest, oh hey presto, I remember Durer he said, fancy hatted fellow, now count me in,
I looked down at the keyboard and thought one two three four, you make me feel like
(Albrecht Durer (1471), Henri Rousseau (1844) and Leo Sayer (1948) share todays birthday May 21st)
Joy!
November 6, 2009 at 7:48 pm | Posted in blogging, genre isn't dead yet but it should be, portraits, video blog | 10 CommentsTags: crazy 60's effects, tagging
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The hole is more than the sum of its planets.
on not getting arrested
November 5, 2009 at 6:39 pm | Posted in genre isn't dead yet but it should be, poetry, portraits, writing | 8 CommentsTags: that's not poetry squires, writing
Those heart starters are wild. Anyway, I found peace in immunity to deliberate provocation. A moment’s thought untyped. Without font as it were. I saw many go mad, quite literally and others fight till they were carried off somewhere. Returning only to be photographed on a balcony overlooking the sea, a wide hat, sunglasses, her collar turned up against the breeze and turning to me, there’s plenty of space between impro and discipline it seems, and smiling.
F tattoo (in G, is for horses)
July 4, 2009 at 9:04 am | Posted in australian poetry, contemporary poetry, genre isn't dead yet but it should be, poetry, writing | 16 CommentsTags: absolut'ly free Australian sentences, australian poetry, con-temporary poetry, F., poetry
Fear. and freedom from it.
looking in mirrors and startling
fantastical modifications in form
with no apparent function
p is for pointless alliteration
without contrasting consonants
F is for free
to give it all away
and go sailing.
F tattoo (in G, is for horses)
July 4, 2009 at 8:58 am | Posted in australian poetry, contemporary poetry, genre isn't dead yet but it should be, tshirt | 1 CommentTags: contemporary poetry, F tattoo, poetry, writing
Fear. and freedom from it.
looking in mirrors and startling
fantastical modifications in form
with no apparent function
p is for pointless alliteration
without contrasting consonants
F is for free
to give it all away
Don’t Do That, Squires
June 26, 2009 at 6:35 pm | Posted in genre isn't dead yet but it should be, links, memoirs | 9 CommentsTags: hello peter!, pirate poem, the drunken cartographer, the drunken cartographer ponders his navel
not right now. It’s Friday night
he said, not again, squalls approaching
loves me a pirate poem i do
in fact if you don’t write one right
now this cannons pointing
at you.
Been a long at time at sea. Haha,
Sir! We have received orders.
fuck, release the vodpod he says
scrambling for his trousers
some other lame excuse
will have to do
Fundamental Revolution (1)
June 21, 2009 at 8:58 am | Posted in antihaiku, blogging, contemporary poetry, genre isn't dead yet but it should be, poetry, sheer selfindulgence, writing | 11 CommentsSo there has to be some motive force.
Bettering, not necessarily battering, Squires.
Hmm, where is my stunt
double twist with a singularity
caught in the space between
the word and the image
and coming out smiling,
haha,
in jeans and a peasant shirt
while i sit here
scribbling and grinning.
And I can’t resist
on such a gorgeous Sunday morning
saying just one more time,
bye bye fishy fish,
(segue into vodpod) and over and out
this is the end of the bloggedy blog,
The Puzzle Box
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