Bone Tickle

viernes, 29 de abril de 2011

Refill


Stretched across rails, mires and sugarless coffee




***


25 - Isnaj Dui & Andy Nice - Bones by Arctic Circle Radio


" Il a mis le café
Dans la tasse
Il a mis le lait
Dans la tasse de café
Il a mis le sucre
Dans le café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller
Il a tourné
Il a bu le café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse
Sans me parler
Il a allumé
Une cigarette
Il a fait des ronds
Avec la fumée
Il a mis les cendres
Dans le cendrier
Sans me parler
Sans me regarder
Il s'est levé
Il a mis
Son chapeau sur sa tête
Il a mis
Son manteau de pluie
Parce qu'il pleuvait
Et il est parti
Sous la pluie
Sans une parole
Sans me regarder
Et moi j'ai pris
Ma tête dans ma main
Et j'ai pleuré"

JACQUES PRÉVERT (Déjeuner du matin)

jueves, 28 de abril de 2011

Electra's Congratulations



" I am accustoming myself to the idea of regarding every sexual act as a process in which four people are involved. We shall have a lot to discuss about that."
S.FREUD: Letters

"There are two positions available to us--either crime which renders us happy, or the noose, which prevents us from being unhappy. I ask whether there can be any hesitation, lovely Thérèse, and where will your little mind find an argument able to combat that one?"

D.A.F DE SADE: Les Malheurs de la vertu.
 


I watched it, opalescent dark image inkily
layered out, glistening on the bus window
And though I knew I was there, crisscrossed
by rails, seats and stop buttons
polished mussel shells,
no recognition came

And just above the plastic arm rest read
Christ, as just another dent stretching
seen on the line encrusted ruler of lead
Not so far from the 22nd mark
I seemed and seamed
myself, allocated to.

I heard then the devilish laughter
Freud at the front row raising his
wine glass in mocking red salute
Electra's' eyes brimmed full
of satisfied ruby contempt

she may be cursed but
in this, dammit,
she is not
alone.


***

  



***

martes, 26 de abril de 2011

Polar sunshine


Burst forth from
egg shaped tears
                   little bluebirds.
Cut crystal spray
of shattered shells
                   filled the skies.

into painless blue
they dissolved
and Bukowski
he moaned.



***

FIELDHEAD - an arrow by Gizeh


"... there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do

you?" 

[Bukowski. "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" - Bluebird ]

lunes, 25 de abril de 2011

(and the sound to the lines)

SLEEPINGDOG - Polish Love Song by Gizeh

Delilah till frukost


- Every morning, before he popped bread in the toaster,
even, mind you, before water touched the lime
encrusted spirals laying at the depths of the kettle
Samson sat down and with a long whetstone
he expertly, acutely and with great care
sharpened his scissors.

No wonder a slow drawn shudder
slithered down his fast-full spine
as he fished out, spoon glistening
a long hair red tresses once disowned 
from his perfectly brewed breakfast tea -



"He replied, “If you weave the seven braids of my head into the fabric on the loom and tighten it with the pin, I’ll become as weak as any other man.” So while he was sleeping, Delilah took the seven braids of his head, wove them into the fabric and tightened it with the pin."

[ The Judges  16:13 ]