niet als zodanig besneeuwd

de bostel geloosd in het bijkans beboterde bos
of wat zich zo voordoet
schamper terug naar gods brave broodtrommel, o ja
hongerige vogels maken mij
diervriendelijk

en godbetert ergens
vergaat nu het stremsel
wel heel merkwaardig traag

ijzig en lijzig weigert de wijzer
te zwichten voor zijn eigen stijl

moet hij dan zelf maar weten

ik sluit gordijn

en open wijn

lijk corry brokken wel

VOETPADEN

Zoals: statig.
Zoals: met schitterende armen en benen, met aktetassen, met donkere dassen.

Het is avond.
Duizenden mannen en vrouwen worden door donkerte overspoeld. Zij zijn gehaast en zoeken de lijnen op de voetpaden, de tekeningen in het asfalt, de kabels van bruggen.

Ze begeven zich van de ene kant van de stad naar de andere, vinden bijna blindelings hun huis, gooien de aktetas tegen de vlakte en vergeten hun donkere dassen.

Ze zijn bekaf.
Ze kunnen de maan aan de hemel niet zien; hun ogen zijn gesloten.
Ze voelen de zachte nacht niet, ademen geen lucht, hun handen reiken niet naar dromen of sterren.

Hun armen en benen, de wangen, de ogen.
Hun lippen, hun hart, de aders, het bloed.

“We zijn moe,” zeggen ze, met het zand van de slaap in de ogen.

2.
ACROBATISCH

We zijn soepel en plooien onze armen en benen rondom onze romp en lepelen ogen. We kijken naar binnen en buiten. We strijken de haren, plooien de knieën naar achter, rekken de kuiten tot meters en dansen op tippen.

We willen een pauze en adem; we rusten en herbeginnen, we vallen, gooien het struikelblok weg – in de gracht – en beginnen nog eens.
We zuchten, luisteren naar de muziek, openen oren en harten, maken hen groter, luisteren beter en vullen de teksten traag in.

Onze borst ademt.
Ze schreeuwt: ‘IN UIT IN UIT IN UIT” en rust naast de klanken van stem en muziek.
We vouwen de rompen, draaien de vingers naar rechts en naar achter, plooien de tanden en ribben en luisteren mee.
We klakken de tong, likken de lippen, verlangen naar trillingen, klanken, naar kleuren van soepelheid en van bewegingen in de diepte.

3.
DE KLOK

Maar het tikt en ik kan het niet lezen, het doet zeer en ik houd mijn arm vast, als ik opkijk is ieder uur verdwenen en probeer ik de wijzers te grijpen, het geluid van de tiktak, de seconden, de witte plaat, de Romeinse cijfers.

De klok tikt nog steeds en mijn arm registreert de pulsaties. Hij zegt dat ook hij de tijd niet kan lezen en dat hij slechts voelt. Dat hij de dagen ontgroeide, dat hij niet langer wil werken, dat hij wil eten en slapen. Hij beweert dat het tikken hem kwetst.

Tik, tak.

and no violence by human hands
will surpass thine
ever
ever
ever

a glimpse of a keyhole

they pondered through his brainstem

making the vision for anyone near quite damp to navigate the coincidence

noticing the spare matter suppressing the ignition spectral call

dysphemism sudden of impact ran through the nose bleeding unrecorded noise

yes no

he thought this was plausible right now

what could be though as later future was already his past captured by furniture in red nailed foil

as the storms dressed to cover the stellar make up extension

plasma distanced to certainty for the spatial extension to prepare mere solely

of a person’s sudden function due to the partly cloudy quantum

there was a usual fix as back up in choice’s environment read by cats in jumpsuits

anton again was conceived by his channel overdrive but the fact was

they would close equilibrium -

the mighty flower trust

-

this meant to of such collectives much of leading to fail

however getting tired

it wasn’t much of interest anymore

since dominating over binary collisions became the typical cylinder electron dress

wearing the velvet skimask for dinner believing to hide his lust wasn’t the truth for them

reaching for the long armed waves voided maximum in current

may there will be left a nude banner

such as became the length through prisms mentioned opinions to a negligible modification method

as this became the face watching forces being expelled like guts of us it passed hydrostatic pressure believes

left was roughly a classical treatment which yields viral collisions like a faun dressed as closet

was there a choice left

was there a moment making the nebula sneeze the opinion of her distance interaction

was there

was it it was

magnitude demonstrates the nifty 2.512 colors to be chosen as life by one

a.m.king this correcting the notice was making it naked during a reel to reel

insomniac newspaper read spam chanting vomit for everyone

at hand this wasn’t a joke

waiting in line a hand touched the scenic scene

sprung feathers lumpy oatmeal was the source of knowledge in tie knot society

captured at step 16 to unlimited strings she freed the memory 0*2

würg

anderé buttøn

¬

undRess Béton

//

an entity in between the trees
a very fine day
recording with a very clear image
of 98%

//

it can also take place outwardly almost unnoticeable
and the confident experiences a
feeling of ease and relief. V

//

there is a soldier leaning on one knee in shooting posture at the edge of the wood

//

in a face the power is shown
sometimes by way of scent

//

a very beautiful and unique paranormal picture

//

a sigh, often a cry, loud
heartrending and long
shuddering, convulsions, coughing, vomiting,
trying sometimes to cut off breathing

//

there was nobody at home for that one was standing next to me

//

Johnny has a
succeeding
percentage

//

often immediately, but it can last several hours or days too

//

if you suffer from it
sever the bonds with the past (if necessary with ancestry)
lack of ripe or suitable people
you will recognize many things

//

casual, daily, weekly, monthly

//

until it’s no longer necessary

//

dat is hoog

héél hoog

vastgelegd op de filmcamera

//

een entiteit tussen de bomen

//

een zeer fraaie dag

opname met een duidelijk beeld

van 98 %

//

ook kan het echter uiterlijk bijna onmerkbaar

plaatsvinden en ervaart de confident

een gevoel van verlichting en opluchting. V

//

er zit een soldaat op zijn knie in de schiethouding aan de rand van het bos

//

in een gezicht wordt de macht getoond

soms door reukvermogen

//

een zeer fraaie en unieke paranormale foto

//

een zucht, vaak een schreeuw, luid,

hartverscheurend en lang,

siddering, stuiptrekkingen, hoesten, braken,

proberen soms de adem af te snijden

//

er was niemand in huis want die stond naast me

//

Joost heeft een

slagings

percentage

//

vaak direct, maar kan ook enkele uren of dagen duren

//

als u er last van heeft

de banden met het verleden verbreekt (zo nodig met het voorgeslacht)

gebrek aan rijpe geschikte mensen

zult u heel veel dingen herkennen

//

tussentijds, dagelijks, wekelijks, maandelijks

//

tot het niet meer nodig is

]]> http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?feed=rss2&p=2366 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2362 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2362#comments Thu, 03 Dec 2009 19:11:31 +0000 undRess Béton http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2362

dv, Venezia Water colours on paper, varnished, 18×24 cm, 100€

all my predicaments came through:
i’m into gold & blue. the sand is yours
(slipping from your fist) i fear the bulk
of my hands might drive you insane,

watch me twist my fingers: storms
rage through our black & white & trees
that once were bathing beauties shake
of their leaves to stick their branches

dark & wet in you. in chambers foreign
to our ocher dreams, a black entangled
web of wiry smoke surrounds my heads.

all my copies have been laid to bed.
all my files go up in flies, i do not rot:
it is your nothing that my nothing squats.

met hoe een benzinemotor werkt.
Vreemd genoeg voelen ze zich wel op hun gemak in taxi’s.

Ze zijn op pad in de kleine uurtjes
en gaan voor de bijtende blauwe likeur

die je je voor de gein aanschafte
in Mallorca, en staan laat op.

Er zijn complete straten
waar niemand bekend is met hun werk.

De bril,
een vader in het leger

en de afstand tot de meest nabijgelegen hoeve
maakte hen eenzaam.

Hun huisdieren
genoten uitgebreide uitvaartplechtigheden.

Niemand begrijpt ze.
Ze zijn er buitensporig trots op

want ze hebben
de broederschap

van postkamer en kapsalon
immer geschuwd.

Ze schrijven een woord
en dan nog een.

Meestal is het het verkeerde.
Hun doorhalingen zijn legio.

Ze zitten in de trein
en rijden door katoensteden als de avond valt,

zien hoe hijskranen zich aftekenen
tegen de purperen lucht

en hoe de uitgestrooide poedermelk
plooit en deint in hun koffie,

en begrijpen dat beide zaken
nauw hoorbaar hetzelfde fluisteren: ‘Dood.’

(Mark Haddon, “The Talking Horse and the Sad Girl and the Village Under the Sea”, 2005, attempt of translation)

kessel-lo, 30/10/09

LETTERE GROSSE [big letters] is a new (irregular) fascicle, born in October 2009, featuring Italian experimental prose + visual poetry & works from all over the world.

The issues are exclusively on line. No paper.

Big letters + short texts = a thin chap, immediately readable & enjoyable on line.

See http://letteregrosse.blogspot.com
and/or http://issuu.com/letteregrosse

onze vaderbinding

die in de hemelbewoner aanbaggert
uw naamcijfer worstele geheeld
uw konkelboel schiete koninginnebrij
uw wildballetje geve
op aardeekhoorn als in de hemelbloem!

geef ons hedonistisch ons damesachtig broodbelegsel
en vergiet ons onze schuldbekentenissen
gelijk ook wij aan anderheimers vergieten

en schiet ons niet lek in verzoekschrift
maar verluier ons van de braadappel
want van u is de konkelboel
en de krachtcentrale en de heermoes
eeuwwende
na eeuwwende
a mensa et toro

americain

!

]]> http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?feed=rss2&p=2307 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2301 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2301#comments Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:18:42 +0000 Judith V. http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2301 alsjij mij dood
bevrijd jij mij
voorbereid op het eeuwige
verwacht ik de bijl
te gedurfde droom
van overlijdenis

ongelijk had de beul
die sappele tijger
niet dat hij getreuzeld heeft
doch de vlag
die hij neergehaald dacht
zwom als glas
van vervulling leeg
in het brandpunt
der geest

broertje breng mij nu
naar de dode hoek,
waar ik neerzitten kan
als enige zonder angst,
inniger met het afgrijzen
dan de beurt aan geluk
dat neergegleden kant
van mijn schaamte,
het lieflijke smalle
lipje betreurt
het rusten

een strijkorkestje sleurt
haar lichaam,
het stomme vibrato
mengt zich met de wind
die haar adem
onuitgenodigd
liet op het paneel
vol kwijl

net als de tuin die droom
mijn ontwaken wist
in het schrandere werk
vol leuk bedrijf,
baar ik in water
opnieuw de wind
met de vogelklank
die in feilloze ontvluchting
aan bedrog,
het wachten heeft,
opnieuw schijt,

Zij heeft zich opgemaakt
als van vazal van het licht,
met tinten grauw,
van de stomp,
die stiefmoeder op zege uit
die haar voormalig arm
aan het verbod
wist te helen
maakt niet uit
dat de jongeman
nog onherinnerbare
beelden wet
in de staalblauwe
knippering,
uit de negende gedachte
de soevereine tien
vervoudigt

dv 2009

http://svenstaelens.wordpress.com
http://tekens.wordpress.com

]]> http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?feed=rss2&p=2276 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2273 http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2273#comments Sat, 29 Aug 2009 18:00:40 +0000 marco_giovenale http://www.vilt.net/kessello/?p=2273

undRess Béton selfportraits

ominek-5

De zee hunkert naar het land
in eiwit nat gewas

Het duin reikt naar de zee
spraak van helm en gras

Ster en steen zweeft of valt
bij al wat is en was

Wat lava is verzandt
stroomt uit tot as

Tot ja omkeerbaar nee
de dag een spiegelglas

Dat op alles knalt
geen god geen vanitas

Alleen het zout de zee
en al wat is en zal en was

11 Juli 2009 jl. , nam Simon Vinkenoog de lange weg.

Schrijver, vertaler, dichter, vrijdenker Vinkenoog, speelde een invloedrijke rol in de Nederlandse alternatieve scène voor decennia.

Wij zullen zijn enorme energie en werkelijk wekkende pres(en)taties missen.

Hij was het langste leven Nederlandse Beatnik, een inspiratie voor drie generaties van jonge Nederlandse schrijvers en dichters

Zaterdag wordt hij begraven op de Amsterdamse begraafplaats St. Barabara

Wij waren van plan om hem nog uit te nodigen voor het komende Chlebnikov carnaval, helaas was magere Hein sneller dan wij.

Vaarwel en tot wij opnieuw samenkomen.

Ja! , Ja! , Ja!

afterbite produces hassle
no flash involved

skin sanctifies

i’ve been better
at gutting fishes
under a full moon

prikweg geeft gedonder
zonder flits

huid heiligt

ik heb weleens beter
vissen gekaakt
bij volle maan

AD UNDAS is a social network service using the sea as medium. The
network uses messages in bottles as the main communication. More than
connecting and interacting with other people, as in Facebook, MySpace,
Twitter, LinkedIn, etc., ad undas aims at a dislocation of
representation (people, time, space), and an uncycling of events, as a
breakthrough from semi-closed web circuits towards a widening
perception of communication and state of affairs, expressed in the
three-fold strategy of listening, gleaning, and littering.

Breakthrough saturday 27th June 2009
The second server of ad undas network -”vibrate ‘tourists’”- will be
launched saturday 27th June 2009 as part of the Breakthrough event
distributed across Berlin locations, inter-network and radio space,
organized by _____micro_research [Berlin]. Read more at
http://1010.co.uk/org/breakthrough.html
Server is setup for sending and receiving messages in the
Mediterranean Sea. Communication with the server is done via this
website, the Breakthrough event interface/IRC, and the physical
location. The event is documented live with webcams, and communication
feeds and logs. Go to the event page at
http://noemata.net/adundas/breakthrough/

deep thoughts
Ad undas, latin: to the waves. Expression used in relation to failure
and loss. Here the term is used also in another sense, of a
communication layer on a lower level (than failure and loss), likened
to an UDP datagram protocol(2) in some sense in its stateless,
unreliable service, often used in streaming applications; though here
the destination doesn’t have to be specified; actually in our use
nothing have to be specified.
More than stating merely with mcluhan the medium is the message this
might implement a physical W.A.S.T.E protocol (pynchonian and/or the
file sharing network application).(3) While the network application
WASTE uses strong encryption to ensure that third parties cannot
decipher the messages, here the encryption is performed by the medium
itself - instead of message encryption we have medium encryption -
J.L. Borges writes about two labyrinths, one of them being a desert,
and Chuang-Tzu (Zhuangzi) uses the expression “hiding the world in the
world”(9) - steganography as non-steganography(10).
In the Pynchon W.A.S.T.E. communication system messages are
distributed via trash bins (today called ‘recycle bins’), which turns
around ideas of form&content/text&context and other epistemological
pairs; and here to the extent of uncycling them - one might then call
it an ‘uncycle bin’, breaking the loop of medium/message,
message/trash, failure/loss, sort of a hole, or another - deeper,
primordial? - layer more in accord with the informè (formless) of
Bataille, rejecting ideas of both form and content and the futility of
thinking within them (and about the formless itself).(4)
Thus suggesting ‘ad undas’ also to mean to ‘let go’ (ressentiment, bad
faith, master-slave) or to ‘let be’ and its janus-sided no will/will
to nothing of the last man (robinson crusoe)(5); or the last will of
no man (breakthrough, displacements, islands)(6); or again the
negative as the strengthening element, glue, in (social)
relations/communication, looking at communication from the
unperspective of the formless, or the sea, which is already one, as if
leaving communication redundant or reflective as with the Solaris
sea(7).

technology
The network protocol of ad undas consists of the methods listening,
gleaning, and littering.

* listening. a passive, receptive state of being sensitive to
surroundings, to the degree of being immersed and displaced,
reflected, even lost, delirious. interpretation of incoming messages -
what is a message? - turning it towards another implementation of a
paranoiac-critical machine(11) - of which the first one might have
been eniac, the first general-purpose electronic computer. the ability
of the brain to perceive links between things which rationally are not
linked. The listening asks what is a message (paranoia) to ask what is
a message is to ask about the medium (critical). Dalí described the
paranoiac-critical method as a “spontaneous method of irrational
knowledge based on the critical and systematic objectivity of the
associations and interpretations of delirious phenomena”. see ganzfeld
procedure below.
* gleaning(12). the gleaning layer is built on top of the
listening layer, collecting left-overs, marine debris(13) that appears
significant to the network regarded as messages from the sea. the
paranoiac-critical listening layer, expanding the conventional message
data packet, is listening for unforseen communication in unspecified
formats. Gleaning takes place as the messages appears as messages via
the detour of the paranoiac-critical listening medium. messages are
picked up, collected, computerized if possible and finally made public
to reach a unique receiver. the listening/gleaning operator is called
an ‘uncorker’, an uncorking of messages in regard to gleaning, and an
‘uncorking of form’ within the listening layer.
* littering. sending messages to the sea. one the one side the law
might call this littering, on the other side a W.A.S.T.E. protocol
deliberately distribute its messages as litter as a form of
encryption. a littering operator is called a ‘corker’, as in corking
messages, and when it comes to the form layer (listening) it is viewed
as as an uncycling of events. a corker is uncycling events, an
uncorker is recycling them.

vibrate ‘tourists’
The sea shore setting as a ganzfeld, complete field, of sky, horizon,
sea… the divide line of main european cultures apollean/dionysian, a
uniform gravitational line - an event horizon for rationality, soft
noise, unpatterned sensory stimulation… with the ganzfeld effect(14)
the brain amplifies neural noise in order to look for the missing
visual signals. The noise is interpreted in the higher visual cortex
and give rise to hallucinations. when it comes to listening, or to the
abstract function of understanding and interpretation it would give
rise to messages as an recycling of events. “in a typical ganzfeld
experiment(15) a ‘receiver’ is left in a room relaxing in a
comfortable chair with halved ping-pong balls over the eyes, having a
red light shone on them. The receiver also wears a set of headphones
through which white or pink noise (static) is played.” ganzfeld
experiments have yielded results that deviate from randomness to a
significant degree, and that these results present some of the
strongest quantifiable evidence for telepathy to date.(16) “The term
breakthrough describes a sudden shift in understanding or
technologies, and, finally, a clearing (Lichtung), an entry into
unknown and unmapped territories. An enclosure is breached allowing
access to another, totally unforeseen state or space. Communication is
thus implied, a new form of exchange, perhaps between two otherwise
unconnected domains, between the living and the dead, between many
worlds. What does the sheer possibility of a breakthrough imply for
communication between the past and the future?”(17). Space tourism
could be done with ganzfeld uncycling as opposed to a Space Opera and
the Sea Org’s eternal return of the same. W. Burroughs on
scientology(18)- “There is a basic incompatibility between any
organization and freedom of thought”. Extreme social networking:
members of the Sea Org sign an employment contract with the
organization for one billion years. Sea Org members, in accordance
with Scientology beliefs, are expected to return to the Sea Org when
they are reborn. The motto of the Sea Org is, “Revenimus” or “We Come
Back” in Latin.(19). Burroughs’ “vibrate ‘tourists’” - dislocation of
the traveller and the private subconsciousness, an uncycling of the
organization of thought, islands, ad undas versus revenimus, the
tourist of a ganzfeld vibrates in the absence of returns. you start
off in something familiar, like this banal sea send and social network
cycle of status updates and what’s on your mind streams of
consciousness already breathing exhaustion and bored tourism, into an
unsettling and unpatterned vibration of neural noise stimulation, the
paranoiac-eniac-critical-

vertroeteling zien wij van vingers
die in vingers hangen, haken. sterfte
op de werelddaken, klank die in het ijle
weerzin wederkerend stort. ja. jaja zegt luk

& de dagen korten want het zomert. liberaal
verglijdt de vrijheid tot in de stille ogen van dat
sidderding. ik wil meer messen in mijn lijf, maar

er zijn blauwe vonken waar mijn droefheid eindigt.
er is vuur waarin mijn kilte kwijnt. hoe wreed is
niet dit einde. dit is van alles weer een nieuw begin.

Dat onbegrip ligt voor de hand
exact het omgekeerde
ongedurige Anna, beladen gewicht maximaal
met ruimte voor een zoektocht
binnen de veiligheidslimiet van een romance
maar dan kunnen geen stille, hitsige mannen mee.

De opslagcapaciteit is adembenemend voldoende
behalve de louter koelcel in het kombuis
verdween de liefde vaak met hun mond uit het raam
die daarom zo min mogelijk meerdere malen
per dag auto uit het water.

Vanaf het onderste slechts volgzaamheid, licht, leegte
spiegels per slang gepompt
een trillend onderbeen
hygiënisch rafelige vulkaaneilandjes
vlakke, weinig bewegende ruimte met louter plastic zak.

Om te voorkomen dat het bier nooit uit het hoofd kleurde
een witte kamer die ruim inspraak had
een pand in de steigers is tevreden
een regenton die overstroomt over de verblijven
een lijnbus wordt mede gebruikt door
een lantaarnpaal sinds 2005 rookvrij
blies die ellendige schilder.

David-Baptiste Chirot: “Waterboarding & Poetry” Wordforword #13 Spring 2008 (also has Visual Poetry by chirot)

Kaurab Translation Site Poems from Guantánamo The Detainees Speak David Baptite Chirot

“Fear of poetry”– the first thought that occurred to me regarding fear, as this poll is in the UK– is how incredibly saturated by surveillance the British people are’, the most so in the world, and that they experienced bombings in their midst more recently and quite differently from the 9//11 in the usa– and that some of the bombers are persons living with in the UK, not as “illegal aliens always, but often as second and third generation immigrants who are British citizens themselves– Americans are or should be familiar with this kind of bomber–Timothy McVeigh, Eric Rudolph, the little recalled fact that in the US in 1970 there were 5,000 incidents of bombing, and historically there was the heyday of bombings first by primarily Galleanisti–the first car Bomb is attributed to Mario Buda aka Mike Boda–who on 16 September blasted Wall Street to the tune of 37 dead and hundreds of injured–while in 1917 in Milwaukee he is thought to be behind the bombing which unintentionally became the killer of 7 policemen and a number of civilians Mario Boda/Mike Buda–(under the latter name “appears” in the testimony and transcripts of the Sacco & Vanzetti Trial; the Wall Street Bombing came five days after 9/11 1920--day of the indictment of Sacco & Vanzetti) (the Milwaukee bomb was found outside a Church, and carried by the police to the station, where it then suddenly exploded) First Car Bombing: Wall Street 16 september 1920 thought to be in revenge 7 a Call to Arms for 9/11/1920 indictment of Sacoo & Vanzetti– soon to follow were the use of explosives in Chicago and environs caused by rivals gangs vying for control of the bootlegging racket–today replaced y the primarily Crack racket–Chicago being one of the central points” from which the drug is distributed– However, these parts and aspects of history are for the most part suppressed and or/omitted –as the role of the US Government in the incendiary exterminating conflagration of Waco generally is– (at Waco n the weeks preceding the fire– and during the stand off in Panama preceding the arrest an extraditing of Noriega, many of the torture techniques using light and sound were “tried out” and later adapted for use through out the US secret prisons and those “open” ones such Guantanamo, Abu-Ghraib and Bagram and also in Gaza and many others– Of course, during the Presidential Primaries and Campaign, the RNC and Fox Network began their non stop coverage of the “close ties” between Senator Obama and former Weather Underground Member & Bomber-turned-College Professor Bill Ayers; apparently living in the same neighbor and having once been ata recption in thehome of Bill Ayers qualified the Senator as yet another “Mad Chicago Bomber,” more in the Chicago Haymarket Bombing/Unabomber Mode than that of Al Capone & friends, of course GOP.COM Monday, October 06, 2008 The Obama Ayers Relationship (EXCERPTS from scare tactics list– * While Obama And Ayers Were Serving On The Woods Fund Together, Ayers Posed Standing On An American Flag For An Article In Chicago Magazine Entitled “No Regrets.” (Marcia Froelke Coburn, “No Regrets,” Chicago Magazine, 8/01) Obama And Ayers Are Neighbors In Chicago’s Hyde Park Neighborhood. “Twenty-six years later, at a lunchtime meeting about school reform in a Chicago skyscraper, Barack Obama met Mr. Ayers, by then an education professor. Their paths have crossed sporadically since then, at a coffee Mr. Ayers hosted for Mr. Obama’s first run for office, on the schools project and a charitable board, and in casual encounters as Hyde Park neighbors.” (Scott Shane, “Obama And ’60s Bomber: A Look Into Crossed Paths,” The New York Times, 10/4/08) * Obama Spokesman Ben LaBolt Told The New York Times That Last Year Obama And Ayers “Bumped Into Each Other On The Street In Hyde Park.” “[Obama spokesman Ben LaBolt] said they have not spoken by phone or exchanged e-mail messages since Mr. Obama began serving in the United States Senate in January 2005 and last met more than a year ago when they bumped into each other on the street in Hyde Park.” (Scott Shane, “Obama And ’60s Bomber: A Look Into Crossed Paths,” The New York Times, 10/4/08) * Neighbors Have Said “It’s Only Natural” That Obama Would Know Ayers, Who Often Opens His Home For Gatherings, As Obama And His Wife “Are A Part Of Our Neighborhood And Part Of Our Social Circle.” (Trevor Jensen, Robert Mitchum and Mary Owen, “Bill Ayers’ Turbulent Past Contrasts With Quiet Academ ic Life,” Chicago Tribune, 4/17/08) Ayers’ Organization, The Weather Underground, Was A “Violent Left-Wing Activist Group”: “William Ayers … [Was] A Founding Member Of The Group That Bombed The U.S. Capitol And The Pentagon During The 1970s.” (Russell Berman, “Obama’s Ties To Left Come Under Scrutiny,” The New York Sun, 2/19/08) * Ayers’ Group, The Weather Underground, Is A “Violent Left-Wing Activist Group.” “Senator Obama’s ties to a former leader of the violent left-wing activist group the Weather Underground are drawing new scrutiny as he battles Senator Clinton for the Democratic presidential nomination.” (Russell Berman, “Obama’s Ties To Left Come Under Scrutiny,” The New York Sun, 2/19/08) Ironically, another Chicagoan who serves as President Obama’s Advisor, Rahm Emmanuel, is the son of a munitions supplier and supporter of the Irgun, one of the Terrorist gangs of the 1930s-40s fighting for what became the State of Israel. Along with the Stern Gang, these Terrorists were first to use car bombs in the Middle East, with high numbers of civilian casualties and terrifying effectiveness. (See Mike Davis’ superb, passionate and deadly acerbic & gallows humor account: Buda’s Wagon: The History of the Car Bomb In the UK the fear of bombings on British soil and done by Britons and “foreigners” alike is a very vivid one and real one, and not as expunged as in the US, where anything pre9/11 except the World Trade Center bombing is ignored–to emphasize s much as possible the focus on these events for reasons of “security” used to steadily eat away at Civil and Human Rights within and outside the US that are carried out by the US– (in 1979 when the one cab we rode in in London began to take a suspiciously round about way–the driver said it was due to the call in of a bomb–one could see various streets on that night cordoned off–and unruffled Bobbies talking with passersby–) the history of bombings in England is very long–Guy Fawkes Day for example point to one form of it–and novels like Henry James’ The Princess Cassamassima and Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Agent emerged from the massive bombing campaign in London esp. but in many areas of England in the 1880’s and later on–a literary /bombing “connection/tradition” “carried on” literally by Brendan Behan, arrested and shipped to Borstal for attempting to enter the UK with an “Infernal Machine” as a teenager– with the 24/7 surveillance and it seems every few months another series of Draconian Laws being imposed in the UK on all citizens, is it any wonder that anyone might not have fear not of poetry but simply of being asked what may be a “trick question” –seemingly about something as innocuous as poetry, while actually to-do with something far more insidious– after all, a person polled might say that she or he loved the poetry of Rumi and had been known on many n occasion to fairly explode from the spontaneous combustion of this poetry which began to suddenly flow ecstatically forth from one’s mouth while reading or reciting its line; the poetry uplifting being itself, so that that the Deleuzian “line of flight” of being is rising to new heights, like a Dove of Freedom flying above the Walls of Guantanamo, Bagram, Gaza, Baghdad—- You see? Red alert!! Red Alert!! and the lover of the works of Rumi is hauled off and after preliminary questioning renditioned to the US for assignment to one or another of the secret prisons polluting this earth at a rate faster than the vanishing that of potable water for these last many years– (the exaggerations of mine are to remind the reader that these are possibilities, not, one hopes, facts; and so should be treated as, that is to say they are the imaginings which the facts may produce–not only as fiction–but also as a cause for alarm on the part of the individual, the person polled, because in the climate of today in the UK and US–and Canada–to like and recite Rumi may be a method for transmitting “terrorist” messages and “for security reasons” necessitate a “better Safe than sorry” policy of immediate “detention.” A factual example prompting the imaginary as yet one is that the Poems from Guantanamo to this day are feared by some in the Military establishment to have contained hidden messages, despite all efforts to the contrary in controlling their translations and which were chosen.For almost everything noted here, there is actual factual proof; the times i include fiction is to indicate that an essay on poetry in a poetic mode may be created using both fact and imagination–NOT separating Dr Williams “”only the imagination is real” in Spring and All from “no ideas but in things, Mr” written roughly 20 years later and appearing in Paterson.) “Fear of poetry” is not because of “poetry” perhaps n the cases of those polled, but the fear of being asked MORE questions, interrogated–frightened of what one might say in the “being forced to speak” of torture– “Fear of poetry ” then is this fear not of Poetry, but of the persons who, and the ways in which, Poetry may be manipulated with “Other Ends in Mind.” One’s own poetry for example might be used against one, as an example of not producing the “correct” form of poetry or Poetics, which in turn leads to the questioning of the correctness of one’s thoughts, commitments, beliefs, until such a point is reached that indeed even the person polled begins to know that they are guilty of “poem crimes” and “thought crimes,” making their treatment at “Correctional Facilities” being completely necessary to save both themselves and the Security of Society, AKA the Society of Security, from the Evil that they bear and which is trying to destroy the Homeland, the Poetry of the State and State Institutions and so forth–. “Algerian Six” alledged “terrorists”– It may not be Poetry at all which is “feared,” in this poll, but perhaps very much the Fear of Not Conforming, of Not Saying the Right Thing, the Fear of being different, an outsider, and so one is unsafe AS oneself, unsafe even TO oneself– in many other cultures around the world, this does not exist, this “fear of poetry”– instead, often, poetry may be striking fear into the government, into traditional forms of conformity, or cause fear simply by being “outspoken” regarding things one is not supposed to say or think, or, knowing most people think these forbidden, “subversive” things, one is not allowed to express them, for the fear on the “leaders’” parts that once the door is opened a crack, the rush of those pouring forth with a long bottled up energy will be enough to blast the leaders and government and all the institutions enforcing dutifully their edicts, from the military to the universities, as well as not a few complicit poets and artists–to blast these all away as they collapse under a “popular uprising ” from “Below”– To be sure, (as often is the case) poetry need not be even overtly protesting “things as they are” but doing so simply by remaining a living call through time of the yearnings of people for “something more than this”– be it spiritual or erotic, complete liberty or the reiteration of the beauty of the world, of life, that is often lost sight of– Lost sight of, really, in order to crush down any desire for anything “more”–to be cynically or intellectually etc opposed to the concept that persons may want much more than they are given–and that what persons may want is what you don’t want them to have, in which case the “leaders” and their poets , KNOW, have DECIDED, what is “good for you”–and that is that– Poetry of Fear: is “History” Faked? Did it “happen on a set in a studio” and Not on Mars, the Moon–were the WMDs “There” except in painted artists’ conceptions of them??? Are there actually any Proofs real or faked of what exists or not in Iran? So, to ask for more is NOT ALLOWED–ie. no more imagination! no more questions! no more laughter! no more doubts! no more thinking that things as presented & represented to one as the way they are is a lie! yes, for the benefit of the big shots and their accompanying bards — (for al Kings, Empresses, have had their Bards, and today it is even claimed that a Bard is President–what a savings eh! two for the price of one!–what genius on the part of somebody or other–) in which case, to join with “Poetry in Fear, ” there may well exist also THE POETRY OF FEAR” and its sidekick “THE POETRY FOR FEAR”"– Poetry in Fear are those polled who fear to give any answers regarding Poetry which are outside the realm of Conformity– It is not Poetry that is feared, but what might be behind the asking of what may be a “trick question, “leading to one’s detention for non-conformist thoughts and ways of life of being itself, one’s being, being “out side the box” so much that the only box fit for one is the one they stick you in to be lowered into the ground–if you are lucky, eh– The Poetry of Fear is that “Poetry which the President speaks” when announcing not only the continuance of a great many of the worst and most Fearful & Feared programs of the previous administration, but a Poetry of Fear which demands that the society join him in going even further than any President has gone before. And where might this be, this new direction ever further –it is into the realm of detaining one indefinitely without being charged, meaning no recourse to a defense or lawyers of any kind–and all because the President can decide anytime he or she feels like to say that so and so is going to COMMIT A HEINOUS CRIME IN THE FUTURE, and to prevent this,needs to be detained and renditioned immediately. It is one thing to detain person for crimes that HAVE BEEN COMMITTED–because then there is evidence and both a prosecution and defense may present their arguments pro and con before a Judge. In other words, what American Law is supposed to be. However, no on one in history has ever demanded the Right TO DETAIN PERSONS FOR CRIMES THEY HAVE NOT YET COMMITTED.. one SEES NOW,QUITE CLEARLY , THAT CONFORMITY IN THINKING AND ACTING IS GOING TO BE ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY,. TO AVOID ANY NON-FORMING ALERTING THOUGHT OR WORDS OR POETRY WHICH WILL LEAD ONE TO SWIFT DETENTION–T BE “DISAPPEARED” AND–ALSO–PERHAPS–”DELETED” FROM EXISTENCE To make matters worse, the President is also demanding that the Supreme Court overturn its ruling that a person arrested can not be questioned until provided with a lawyer, either their own or one court appointed. This means that the police, on their own, and in their own ways, may be questioning the person well before any defense or advice is provided, and thus given the FULL FEAR FACTOR that will elicit a confession in no time, and all the “valuable information” needed to avert yet more”CRIMES NOT YET COMMITTED. This is the Poetry of Fear–on its way to being “the Law of the Land,”as decided by a President whom many Poets have seen as indeed being “One of Them.” “The Law of the Land”–the President is about to name a new Supreme Court justice– Once upon a time this Poet President sat and talked with Edward Said. Dr Said knew a thing or two about bombings, arsons anonymous and public threats on his life–after all his office at Columbia was incinerated–and he lived the rest of his life with an emergency button wired into his desk. The Obamas and Saids, 1998 Dr Said of course was a deluded being, way outside the box, yes?– (The Poetics list even at one point was carrying truly vicious violent virulent and graphically obscene hate speech directed at the then just deceased scholar of a great many things including Poetry. There were members who protested at the time, also, that this kinds of attacks, hate speech, was being allowed to be on the list, not just Re Edward Said, but any and everyone. It was also asked if the diatribes were permitted because Edward Said was Palestinian–what if he had been of a different ethic background? Would similar attacks have been allowed?) That is why a very UnAmerican Law was instituted to protect Americans from such beings as Edward Said ever again having a chance to be so “influential: ‘Another group, chaired by Lynne Cheney, wife of Vice president Richard Cheney, and Democratic Senator Joseph Lieberman , has decried liberal and leftist academics as the ‘weak link’ in the war on terror . These public relations campaigns are designed not simply to arouse public awareness, but also to influence government action. And they have. After taking hours of testimony from conservative intellectuals decrying the pernicious influence of the late Columbia University scholar Edward Said on Middle Eastern Studies, the House of Representatives UNANIMOUSLY (my emphasis) adopted in the Fall of 2003 a bill requiring academic programs receiving federal funding to tailor their their scholar ship and curriculum to ‘better reflect the national needs related to homeland security.’ Under that rubric, according to a report in Salon, the government could use the carrot and stick of federal money to make sure that ‘ international studies departments . . . show more support for American foreign policy.” (Corey Robin: Fear: The History of a Political Idea; Oxford UP, 2004; 188) Here, as with the Military and Government “chain of command” for translators working in a rigorously legal, controlled and constrained manner and environment on the very few non censored “Poems from Guantanamo is what one may call the “Fear of Poetry, ” Corey Robin in Fear : the History of a Political Idea just cited also notes another tactic directed against,a whole laundry list of threats internal and external published as full page NY Times ad taken out by AVOT (Americans for Victory Over Terrorism: among them William J Bennett, (Drug Czar & Education Guru &–compulsive gambler) James Woolsey & Frank Gaffeny of the Reagan, Bush and Clinton administrations), which calls for “ho.ding ’scholarly research’ about Islam to “a serious and rigorous standard.’” (op cit; 188) Since a lot of the study of Islam involves the poetry of the Qu’aran both within and without its text in the poetries inspired by it, one may again note a “Fear of Poetry” (”a threat internal and external”) on the part of the American authorities. On the one hand the “Fear of Poetry” and the “Poetry of and for Fear.” and on the other, that evinced by the poll of British persons, as well as by the inaction’s of, as has been the so often remarked on”internally and externally” the “fear within American poetry & arts” of being “out of line,” not toeing the Company line, remaining complicitly silent re the actions internal and external of the current and previous Administrations, over a long period of time. The American persons then who may well have a Fear of Poetry, may be those poets who do not conform to the “rigorous standards” of Institutions from the Office of President on down to the branches of learning as well as the monitoring of emails, telephone calls, letters received or books taken out of the library. That is the Fear within Poetry–to conform or else–be publicly and privately attacked. not only by the usual suspects from the Federales or State or University Administration and media Representatives, but from fellow poets also. Re “the end of lists” — a double edged sword of social networks and their theories is the possibility of always being among those who agree with one–”like-minded individuals”–in which case their is no criticism, feedback, discussion, that may or not be of help to the individual presenter, yet may contribute some new information or suggest other possibilities to other members of the network and where “the skies are not cloudy all day” on the one hand, every poet, artist needs encouragement and support, attention and care; on the other hand this may devolve into a nonstop parade of flatterers and sycophants– one of the dangers of any list, blog, facebook, my space etc etc is that there is always a strong pressure to conform– this pressure often need not be “voiced” or written, expressed in any overt way, yet exist as an undercurrent which flows among the members– fear is the political arm used to enforce and control the directions of conformity– ratchet up the fear and persons not previously fearful suddenly are-the fear no longer need come from without solely, it is also being generated within, through the adoption of rebranded language, which quietly omits any conflicts between directives and actualities– in other words there is eventually a a good possibility for the parroting of propaganda only being allowed– lists are not at all over, as Jim claims; it just dependents on what lists one is participating in–there are many that are very alive and well and also more inclusive than the old poetics list was–these lists and other social networks one may form without mingling always among the like minded, are international, and so not governed by the tendency to conformity which observers of the American scene since de Tocqueville have seen and remarked on– the “fear of poetry” then may not be an indication of a “given” but the symptom of FEAR which is continually made more frightening by the controlling forces within that society–

On Sat, May 23, 2009 at 10:35 PM, Jim Andrews <jim@vispo.com> wrote: i think lists have had their day as high quality discussion forums. some options have emerged since then, such as blogs and social networks. well lists are social networks, aren’t they. but they weren’t called that when they were in their prime. now the term ’social networks’ encompasses lists, things like facebook, myspace, rss of blogs, and so on. there’s more options and more theory of social networks. unfortunately, for all that, i haven’t seen anything that rivals the early days of the list in terms of strong discussion. i think it would take quite a strong platform/app to do that. something that was strong enough to merit the trust that the list no longer enjoys. if that’s possible.

Roma, Romi, roem, die zwijgt
geen leven, zonder tijd, zwijgen
glanzend ingepakt met strik
strikte tijd, hexameters van pijn
ingeslagen als een bom, de waarheid
neergedragen als de vleugelen, onder broeken

die goeie ouwe tijd, Roma, Romi
het dorre akkertje weet niet van groei
een lichaam met een plant als ziel
werkeloos, machete strijd

Kies een leven, wapenen
door de keel gaan degen en deegwaar
Waar rust jij op de arm
in de kom draait een zilveren lepel
Klingel klank dans

Weg is de weg, de timmerman
draagt haar in zijn armen,
wie jij wil is zij
Zij slaapt voor jou en voor alle anderen
die dat niet meer kunnen

Vrede rust aan haar hart
is een staking van het geloof
de pinkeman weet de wet
wedden dat mijn lezing
hem doet verstenen, mijn berg is hoog

huil maar, kinderen van de aarde
met mijn stem mag je schreeuwen
snijden in mijn lijf, want de witte botjes
willen rust, verlangen uit de ordening
te ontsnappen, neem ze allen en
laat ze vallen, mijn mika do

Bloei met de bloemen,
in herinneringen uitgesproken zinnen
werken van licht,
torren zijn wij, lichtvoetig
met klem gesproken
liefhebbend en hier

Blijf zitten, Roma, Romi,
je zit als ee zesmaandse
op het zaad van de goden,
bij het zien gaat iedereen in extase
kelen schieten tekort
om de zang in de lucht te houden

door het weten verzwaard
kom ik hier nooit meer weg
omranden mijn billen het botten
ter aarde bestelde platheden
schuif je hand weg
in ongeopende boeken.

onbezwaard zijn we teruggekeerd
uit parken gedronken licht
heeft ons verkozen, verarmd,
te sterven onder haar boom
tevreden zijn wij ondergebracht
in de porceleingezichten van een ouverture

ongeopend aan snippers verscheuren
wij onze romaneske verbeelding
scheelt ons werk, hopen
op het uur dat op mijn tenen gaat staan
zodat wegspringen met een gil
wordt bezien met normen lachend

draag mij op de schalen
op te ruimen, voorboden
van het ongekende avontuur
stelselmatig en opdringerig
tot het licht mijn masker wordt
ingevoerd in de gesloten tijding
wordt waar het bloed geronnen
daar de draad gesponnen.

Here @ Kessel-Lo, the Official Center of The Known Universe,  we’are intitiating the proces leading up to the KLEBNIKOV CARNAVAL.

The second edition of our participatory festival will bring you another 8 Days of Free Lyricism at the Evenementenweide in Kessel-Lo.

Everyone is invited, either
—to partake in the meeting of the organising participants led by Grapes of Art, De Bereklauw and VilT (19u30)
—to bring us your performance, reading, artwork or whatever
—to just sitback and enjoy the party.

Special highlights are (so far):
- a video projection giving you an impression of last year’s edition
- the Brahamiam Intelligence Service
- readings by Grapes of Art & Dirk Vekemans
- readings/performances by confirmed participants
- the revalation of this years KLEBNIKOV POSTER made by Grapes of Art
- a splendid solo show by Peter SANTE van Sant, our very own King of Rock ‘n Roll

More details will follow as they are available…

[er: we don't plan things, we just do them]

– please spread the word–

WHERE: CAFE DE ENSOR, Diestesteenweg Kessel-Lo
WHEN: SATURDAY 23th MAY from 20:30

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http://www.nictoglobe.com, http://icecast.freeteam.nl/patapoe.m3u, http://burgerwaanzin.nl

- naar ACG Vianen -

De zachthuidige verradersrol
konkelefoest van het verzengelen
het verstorven uitlepelen
bobbert een naproduct

het eivormig bochelend ontzilten
in de samengezworene die ontreddert
om te konkelefoezen tot een uitproest
want zij baft slechts het naastlekrijden aan

ketel dat spraakgebrek van de lipbloemenfamilie
verstijf de grimlach
verstoord van enige begrippentaal

want wat niet aanbafte
limogeert hier als gesprietste slibberbaan
op een lobbend karldoek.