Author: Alias Harlequin

"Arrange whatever pieces come your way" - Virginia Woolf "Thinking about language, while thinking IN language, leads to puzzles and paradoxes" -James Gleick "a word is a bridge thrown between myself and another...a territory shared" - V.N. Volosinov "How words are understood is not told by words alone" - Ludwig Wittgenstein

Wherewithhoweverwhomwhateverwhy

On By Alias HarlequinIn Writing3 Comments

I drink

[and] I read poems

[and] I write letters

[and] attempt to acknowledge every feeling

Drunk Like a River in Flood

On By Alias HarlequinIn creative writing, Experience, longing, Patience, Poetry10 Comments

Swelling my banks,

perturbedly turgid,

effervescently carbo-

nated, almost,

(or perhaps it’s entire…

depending on who

&/or what you believe,

with their reason…)

Swollen, in flow,

a thundering racket,

flotsam and jetsam

I wail at the bends.

A “bender” they call it.

I’m here, all the while

passing through. 

Drenched (or “besotted”) –

the rain.

I am home

and I’m rushing

to-ward and away,

instinct with desire,

for which fire

is no  match,

only patience…

I’m a patient

and ill to the bones…

you will see.

But I gurgle

these songs

as I pass..

filled with belches

and farts,

it’s unseemly…

Drunk

like a river

in flood

[too apparent] –

here’s

where the poem

begins

Some Kind of Elegy

On By Alias HarlequinIn absence, Language, longing, Loss, love, Poetry5 Comments

Great grandeur of light

Your laughter tinkling its tent

A poet has died

Like a raven

We watch him pass

Rivers and trees

There’s probably more

Words

Are like that

– suspended –

Over silence

You’ve heard her

Read the dictionary…

Everyone disbelieves

Only I drink it in

 – sufficiently –

Everyone’s doubt

Grand Canyons

are like

the unknown

we feel

of any other

(or each)

–

I put clothes on

have hairs trimmed

appear

and once again

guess at meanings

In other words

I “care”

insofar as an organism

hopes to live

Which I continue

to exhibit

because I think

I love

you

–

And no one knows

Not-knowing (yet)

What “love” is

“Yet” such an

Empire-ical promise

(some day our greed

will pull through) –

you hear it:

“I love you”:

that evil

devoted

inspired

and diabolical

urge, disturbed

and ravishing

–

As long as

we win something

we’re almost happy

Deconstructing Definitions

On By Alias HarlequinIn absence, being, Confusion, desire, Experience, Language, meaning, Poetry4 Comments

Perhaps “work” means something must be done, regardless of desire,

and signifies felt effort.

If “to love’s” “unassailable affirmation,”

something verbal, and not only.

“Education” as “familiarity with thoughts of others” (K. O. Knausgaard),

entails “experience” as “familiarity with itself”?

And what of “wisdom”?

I wonder if “deaf” implies “not-listening,” or/and, “our forgetting of the body.”

and who defines “republic”?

Or “nowhere” and “now here” in all their differance?

Frere Jacques (yes, go and sing it)

suggests impossibility fuels valuation –

negation requiring its positive with –

terms all ways relative in their contexts,

indeterminate and groundless,

yet term-in-able, undecided, written-in.

I don’t know.

But I sense it’s indefinitive,

de- and con- structure something else,

like trace or foggy margin,

the space between the sounds

that continues (us and them).

Reduce (‘to lead back, to bring back’)

On By Alias HarlequinIn being, change, Experience, Fear, Language, life, pain, paradox, Poetry, Writing1 Comment

https://www.etymonline.com/word/reduce

Thrum –

that is the hum of the liveliness

the phrasing which your voice emits

the charging of rememory

the shock that members monsters

–

Thrum spark! –

the difference between hearing

and listening-for, anticipation.

Or expectation?  and its careful ache

awaiting every painful jolt

–

The fear involved –

an awful angst of joy –

timbre re-minding the body,

bodies, of things that surge

–

Like language –

what’s drawn out

and quartered

into inestimable more

–

So like-wise, the idiot

breath and ready veins

fill up with begging

bursted already in the mouths and hands

–

and far beyond.

Reach in, reach out

one motion as touch

the no-one-knows-where

–

Leading back,

bringing back,

reduce:

our introduction

Reduce (‘to lead back, to bring back’)

On By Alias HarlequinIn creative writing, Journallings, Language, WritingLeave a comment

https://www.etymonline.com/word/reduce

Thrum -

that is the hum of the liveliness

the phrasing which your voice emits

the charging of rememory

the shock that members monsters






Thrum
spark! –





the difference between hearing





and listening-for, anticipation.





Or expectation? 
and its careful ache





awaiting every painful jolt










The fear involved –





an awful angst of joy –





timbre re-minding the body,





bodies, of things that surge





Like language -





what’s drawn out





and quartered





into inestimable more





So like-wise, the idiot





breath and ready veins





fill up with begging





bursted already in the mouths and hands





and far beyond.





Reach in, reach out





one motion as touch





the no-one-knows-where





Leading back,





bringing back,





reduce:





our introduction


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Some Sort of Inquiry

						

				On  By Alias HarlequinIn Writing1 Comment			

					


		

			


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Something Scribbled

						

				On  By Alias HarlequinIn Writing3 Comments			

					


		

			


…something that/what happens…


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Being something

						

				On  By Alias HarlequinIn being, human, Living, Perception, Poetry, Writing1 Comment			

					


		

			
This is how we see:


a set of brackets, dark,


moving across wires in the sky


(that we placed there)


because of the angle of light


and it’s changing


– perhaps –


and perhaps it’s the change


and the angling,


and perhaps it’s involved with the light


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Self-reflection

						

				On  By Alias HarlequinIn Writing4 Comments			

					


		

			
It all seems like a coagulation of before now and ‘now’ you’ve been ‘given’ something to do something unknown with… an accident awaiting each happening… to be…