Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
No matter how thin and flimsy / On Samuel Beckett
NO MATTER HOW THIN AND FLIMSY
for Jonathan Jones
Sometimes a single phrase or a word, the whorl of a letter, a word grain, an image. A single moment in language, a single moment, the apprehension of something ‘true.’ Real in a rhizomatic way. Like suddenly seeing a single molecule of something. A thing no matter how thin and flimsy. Humans made out of these thin and flimsy things. Human thought.
When something ‘speaks’ to us, it is a fragment. A quick flash of something. A single leaf in a forest of otherwhere. Or everyhere. A consolation. An encouragement. A confirmation.
Imagination, memory, experience, compassion. The human. Rhizomes.
*
BECKETT
between the snowflakes
Samuel Beckett
space for a whole forest
of Becketts
*
Samuel Beckett
falls from above
with an open mouth
fills with sky
*
a Samuel Beckett
that has no face
is filled with sky
a body’s worth
*
a Samuel Beckett
with a thousand fingers
feathers reaching to the sun
begin at the beginning and stay there
*
what does it mean to be Samuel Beckett
when you are a bird
a thousand Samuel Becketts in a swarm
a transforming liquid of solid flight
Monday, December 05, 2011
For Hoarsemen
. For Hoarsemen by himself@garybarwin.com
Some asemic sound poetry. No uvulas were harmed in the making of this composition, but some pharynxes were taxed while lungs inspired.
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