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Category: Language
On Thinking
jackrabbit mind, dashing –
here thick grass of nothingness
there a frenzied masturbation –
to and fro, quick left, jab right,
the daydreams, grief,
and absence fore and aft.
It’s a wonder, this pondering
machine, unhinged
of its bearings, moorings,
bodies baring everywhere
and not a drop to think.
What drives desire?
Seems pushed and pulled
and craven. Erotically
erratic, playing at its gloom
“it’s nothing,” says the mouth,
always caught between
the breathing and the axons
blood swelling pounding through.
The feral hind leaps out,
ruminate sparkle, devious
flux of concept, fact, or notion,
swimming in emotion,
nothing known.
Alias V. Harlequin, remembers (via language)
I always wondered at my naming – “Alias V.” Not knowing where I come from, and finding all locatable Harlequins tricky and at play.
“Alias Verbum” – who would name an infant that? Another name, a word. Also known as, logos. Usually I identify as iota subscript, after Robert Frost.
No one knows my origin, but he’s very hard to find, everywhere, continually on his odyssey.
i‘m reading a book entitled “How Words Make Things Happen.” What have we made? Ideas, spells; subjects, objects, and actions. Incantations all. Beginnings, I suppose, but not the first.
As I understand it, aging along, someone had to be there for me to come about, and coming-about would be my story. Who or what might tell it? Acted, sung, or read? Becoming other after other after other. Known again as… by any other name. The player. The trickster. The Joke.
In the beginning was… and I began, an alias of something… and everything its word.
Some Kind of Elegy
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
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’)
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’)
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
Tapping at Windows of Words
The bestial want
is it ever more?
Evermore.
.
Ache beauty
its terrible
hunger
.
The voyeur
at what is not
“mine.”
.
What can be taken?
What “had”?
In the seeking,
the peeping,
the glimpse
or the glance –
its desire?
.
Such beastly want,
evermore,
grasping
.
forth or out
I reach –
a solid pane.
.
I am limited
constrained
delimited –
.
it would seem
I see clearly
but it cannot be
touched.
.
‘I’ is alone
with-out.
With-in
comes from ‘you.’
.
So ‘I’ scopes –
a feral yearn –
and gazes…
.
tapping at windows
of words.
Distortion of the Perceiving Eye/I
“the turned-to-water book…
with all that has room in it,
even without
language.”
– Paul Celan –
Decide to write the book-that-turns-to-water, as speech-that-turns-to-air. All that rippling silence, even without language.
Someone asking: what is gesture? movement? expression-in-its-being?
Signification the silent razor.
Someone mentions music, which it claims “represents nothing at all,” (Michel Seuphor) and I doubt that: is there not expression? confession? some sonorous and vibratory friction or exhalation? A “constant inscription of birth in innumerable ways…language is metaphor and metonymy, one cannot avoid it.” (Helene Cixous)
[“where trace becomes existence” (Seuphor)]
I am tracing letters without a model, refusing to hub any wheel…
.
Out of its mouth: communication sounds. The body moved likewise. Undulant, suggesting. only sounds, no discernible words.
Signification, perception, emotion, feeling, sensation… and then translations: prefrontal cortex: “meaning”?
A blockage. Refusal.
Andre Malraux: “You are human when you can say no.” Remembers Bartleby.
What is called ‘agency’? Only negation?
This is how the story goes?
Prefers not to.
.
“Pleasures,” “pains.” Pain wakes. Pleasure lull(abie)s?
.
And when is the “system of nonknowledge” (and unknowing) not “unfinished” (Bataille) posthumous. Post-humorous. Generations.
What was it? Ah, yes, the Book-that-turns-to-water. Speech-to-air bubbles, balloons. Hot air, as they say. They? We.
“even
without
language”
(someone wrote, silently saying).
.
“all that has room in it”
(same).
.
Of truth and genesis – constant inscriptions of birth. Unthinking the point and the line.
“Not to worry about the rest of us. Love you.” (someone said).
.
This is the shaping of chaos, this hell of stories.
Unthinkable.
.
Unbearable lightness of being, this breath or stream of life.
Mismaking is an art (or so we hope, we think, desire, demand).
.
Men and apparitions.
[everything I letter down is plagiarism]
These – the margins of philosophy, a way of life.
Saying I no more. Interior distance.
.
This is the writing of disaster: the book-that-turns-to-water.
Speaking turned to air.
Philosophy, the posthumous. Dust.
.
Listening.
Abolishing freedom.
.
Text (from textare: to weave).
My documents.
My notes in the fog.
The trouble with pleasure.
.
Myopia. My opium.
Polysemic Stupor 