Thanks, .Amanda for quoting from my article "Confessions of a Blog Artist" published in the Poetry Project Newsletter June-August, 03
Distribution Automatique
Saturday, August 2
Christina Strong and Aimee Nezhukumatathil are both moving right now and blogging about packing and unpacking their books. Not long ago Stephanie went through this too. I have thousands of books to deal with. I wish I could get myself to give away or sell a lot of my books. They are wonderful but so combersome to deal with, especially when you have to move them. The thing is, each and every one of them is a friend, so i miss them when I haven't seen them for awhile. Both Aimee and xtina seem a little exasperated with the whole thing! Little confession: I spend much more time in front of my screen and looking at all your beautiful blogs and much less time reading. But I read all of James Meetze's chapbook today and enjoyed it immensely.
Postcard Poems + Oxygen
on Sunday, August 3 @ 7pm
Poetry Espresso
wishes you HERE:
2202 Oxygen Bar
795 Valencia @ 19th
San Francisco
to celebrate & read from
Postcard Poems books
readings (in pairs) by:
Cassie Lewis
Tim Yu
Stephanie Young
Jennifer Dannenberg
Nick Piombino
Catherine Meng
Del Ray Cross
& if you can't attend
you can nab these
lovely books here:
www.poetryespresso.org
on Sunday, August 3 @ 7pm
Poetry Espresso
wishes you HERE:
2202 Oxygen Bar
795 Valencia @ 19th
San Francisco
to celebrate & read from
Postcard Poems books
readings (in pairs) by:
Cassie Lewis
Tim Yu
Stephanie Young
Jennifer Dannenberg
Nick Piombino
Catherine Meng
Del Ray Cross
& if you can't attend
you can nab these
lovely books here:
www.poetryespresso.org
Hey Jim Behrle: If you're going to doodle another B side cartoon with me in it you said you needed a small digital photo. Here's one of me, Toni, Charles Borkhuis, Laura Corsiglia and Ted Joans in Paris (from the Ted Joans memorial). I think this is the only photo of me that Stephanie likes. And it's a nice photo of Toni. (at) http://www.emptymirrorbooks.com/tedjoanslives-4.html"
The Purple Notebook continues on Jim Berhle's Famous Monkey
The Purple Notebook continues on Jim Berhle's Famous Monkey
10/10/03
To look to the future in this
way is to expose oneself to the
feeling of *missing
something* (being depersonalized). So in
this evolution of wholeness and identity
which is future oriented there
is also planted the seeds of
doubt. "What have I not yet done?"
The obsessive rumination is
transmuted to "What do I sense in the
present which is the reverberations of
some possible future, which I should
take into account to get a true picture
of the current reality."
In part, it is these possible
futures from which science fiction
draws its themes. It is also
why it is in the future-
oriented narratives-[this way
use 1984] such as Orwell's
*1984* and Huxley's*Brave New World*
offer us a similarly staggering
reaction akin
to the uses of the tragedy in
ancient Greece. We turn
away from mythological past identities
on which we are basing our current ones,
to the speculation about images
of the future, as in the film *On The Beach*.
You can transfer knowledge
from one sphere of your
identity to another and lack
knowledge in one part of the
self which is available in another
part.
Always before me the wish to
begin and the wish to end, to
originate and the wish to [deposit,
master] complete*
*In the instant between discovery and (visual realization)
language moves across the street
from intuition, fantasy & all this is prophetic, the
end point of the beat, to the margin between
physical actualization and imagination. Physical
functioning is impossible without
imagination and the imagination is also
the nexus point of [taste, pleasure and disgust
reactions, the aesthetic, the boundaries
of pleasure and pain]
This reestablishes or finds the continuity of
& the establishment of identity
also has to do with narration
in that the inner ordering of priorities,
the need for certainty, however, is
also the origin of blind belief,
as much as it is the energy
that fuels the need to verify intuitions. It is
this intersection that reveals the
balance implicit in the external
conflict between certainty and doubt.
*Authenticity*
*Visual model of authenticity*(& identity)]
p297- Scientific Explanation
The fragment-promotes the dialectic-
the dynamic interaction of various
subidentities makes it possible for the
overall identity to change yet to
have a continuous essence.
Not only does time not flow,
but every interval consists
of a movement of the pendulum
from the aspect of time which is
eternal (microvallic)
to the aspect of time
which is
Kafka's roach
I=Roach
The experience of having an
identity itself become suspect,
in a world bounded by temporal
endings-w/no infinite
10/18 The narrative
From who is speaking to what is
speaking
10-19-84
The philosophical movement from a multiplicity
of idols to a unitary non-visualizable god
tracks the percpetual movement of a
projection of inner fragments under the
control of a Patriarchal figure (the
Greek Pantheon) to a philosophical vision of
a unified (super) identity.
p.22- Ecrits- Lacan
"Just as the senseless oppression of the superego
lies at the root of the motivated imperatives
of conscience, the passionate desire peculiar
to man to impress his image in reality
is the obscure basis of the rational mediations
of the will."
Omni- Ocober p. 51 "Minsky, in fact
rejects the metaphorical "I" that resides in most
people's heads- Instead he sees the human mind
as a complex organization containing hundreds of individual agents, each
specializing in various functions." p54
To look to the future in this
way is to expose oneself to the
feeling of *missing
something* (being depersonalized). So in
this evolution of wholeness and identity
which is future oriented there
is also planted the seeds of
doubt. "What have I not yet done?"
The obsessive rumination is
transmuted to "What do I sense in the
present which is the reverberations of
some possible future, which I should
take into account to get a true picture
of the current reality."
In part, it is these possible
futures from which science fiction
draws its themes. It is also
why it is in the future-
oriented narratives-[this way
use 1984] such as Orwell's
*1984* and Huxley's*Brave New World*
offer us a similarly staggering
reaction akin
to the uses of the tragedy in
ancient Greece. We turn
away from mythological past identities
on which we are basing our current ones,
to the speculation about images
of the future, as in the film *On The Beach*.
You can transfer knowledge
from one sphere of your
identity to another and lack
knowledge in one part of the
self which is available in another
part.
Always before me the wish to
begin and the wish to end, to
originate and the wish to [deposit,
master] complete*
*In the instant between discovery and (visual realization)
language moves across the street
from intuition, fantasy & all this is prophetic, the
end point of the beat, to the margin between
physical actualization and imagination. Physical
functioning is impossible without
imagination and the imagination is also
the nexus point of [taste, pleasure and disgust
reactions, the aesthetic, the boundaries
of pleasure and pain]
This reestablishes or finds the continuity of
& the establishment of identity
also has to do with narration
in that the inner ordering of priorities,
the need for certainty, however, is
also the origin of blind belief,
as much as it is the energy
that fuels the need to verify intuitions. It is
this intersection that reveals the
balance implicit in the external
conflict between certainty and doubt.
*Authenticity*
*Visual model of authenticity*(& identity)]
p297- Scientific Explanation
The fragment-promotes the dialectic-
the dynamic interaction of various
subidentities makes it possible for the
overall identity to change yet to
have a continuous essence.
Not only does time not flow,
but every interval consists
of a movement of the pendulum
from the aspect of time which is
eternal (microvallic)
to the aspect of time
which is
Kafka's roach
I=Roach
The experience of having an
identity itself become suspect,
in a world bounded by temporal
endings-w/no infinite
10/18 The narrative
From who is speaking to what is
speaking
10-19-84
The philosophical movement from a multiplicity
of idols to a unitary non-visualizable god
tracks the percpetual movement of a
projection of inner fragments under the
control of a Patriarchal figure (the
Greek Pantheon) to a philosophical vision of
a unified (super) identity.
p.22- Ecrits- Lacan
"Just as the senseless oppression of the superego
lies at the root of the motivated imperatives
of conscience, the passionate desire peculiar
to man to impress his image in reality
is the obscure basis of the rational mediations
of the will."
Omni- Ocober p. 51 "Minsky, in fact
rejects the metaphorical "I" that resides in most
people's heads- Instead he sees the human mind
as a complex organization containing hundreds of individual agents, each
specializing in various functions." p54
Thanks Johanna for posting part of my poem from
my collaboration with Stephanie Young
Here are two more, Johanna.
Stephanie Young
4/7
Them=Us
It's no surprise
my nose is full
at the box office
I want to seat you
& then disappear.
Is it so impossible
to fly? The people I love
are laid up in chairs
& still, they manage to evade me!
What my head said
is hidden. Tells me to pray for compassion.
* * * * *
Nick Piombino
#7
Sensibilities Lost
Off in the creases, the left-furthest
corner, a small voice hidden among
the noise.
How to even get the time to breathe,
let alone to feel.
Do you want to when it's time-
(the only access). What else
would time be?
Fishing through thousands of things
to come up with the one.
my collaboration with Stephanie Young
Here are two more, Johanna.
Stephanie Young
4/7
Them=Us
It's no surprise
my nose is full
at the box office
I want to seat you
& then disappear.
Is it so impossible
to fly? The people I love
are laid up in chairs
& still, they manage to evade me!
What my head said
is hidden. Tells me to pray for compassion.
* * * * *
Nick Piombino
#7
Sensibilities Lost
Off in the creases, the left-furthest
corner, a small voice hidden among
the noise.
How to even get the time to breathe,
let alone to feel.
Do you want to when it's time-
(the only access). What else
would time be?
Fishing through thousands of things
to come up with the one.
Friday, August 1
Rick Moody describing the 70's in "The Ice Storm":
"No answering machines. And no call waiting. No Caller
I.D. No compact disc recorders or laser discs or holography
or cable television or MTV. No multiplex cinemas or word
processos or laser printers or modems. No virtual
reality. No grand unified theory or Frequent Flyer milage
or fuel injection systems or turbo or premenstrual syndrome
or rehabilitation centers or Adult Children of Alcoholics.
No codependency. No punk rock, or postpunk,
or hardcore, or grunge. No hii-hop.
No Acquired Immone Deficiency Syndrome or
Human Immunodeficiency Virus or mysterious Aids-like
illnesses. No computer viruses. No cloning or genetic
engineering or biospheres or full-color photocopying and especially no
facsimile transmission.No perestroika. No Tinnamen
Square.
Much was in the recent past. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin,
and Jim Morrison were in the recent past..."
"No answering machines. And no call waiting. No Caller
I.D. No compact disc recorders or laser discs or holography
or cable television or MTV. No multiplex cinemas or word
processos or laser printers or modems. No virtual
reality. No grand unified theory or Frequent Flyer milage
or fuel injection systems or turbo or premenstrual syndrome
or rehabilitation centers or Adult Children of Alcoholics.
No codependency. No punk rock, or postpunk,
or hardcore, or grunge. No hii-hop.
No Acquired Immone Deficiency Syndrome or
Human Immunodeficiency Virus or mysterious Aids-like
illnesses. No computer viruses. No cloning or genetic
engineering or biospheres or full-color photocopying and especially no
facsimile transmission.No perestroika. No Tinnamen
Square.
Much was in the recent past. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin,
and Jim Morrison were in the recent past..."
One of the chapbooks I received on Friday night at the Mama Buzz group reading was"How Beautiful Tragic Weather" by James Meetze which I'm reading today.
"No dancing while the world is ending.
No nuclear family photo melting in the heat.
I saw a small island cry when the lights went up,
sewn to the sky, everything going up at once.
She looks impressive and incredulous, a rocket
without a planet. I am pale in the red clouds rising to meet her.
She's pretty good, she's paramount. Going away from
what explosions knit the possibility of dying, sigh.
The kindness of our atmosphere raining down a carpet
of amnesty. No safety in disaster."
"No dancing while the world is ending.
No nuclear family photo melting in the heat.
I saw a small island cry when the lights went up,
sewn to the sky, everything going up at once.
She looks impressive and incredulous, a rocket
without a planet. I am pale in the red clouds rising to meet her.
She's pretty good, she's paramount. Going away from
what explosions knit the possibility of dying, sigh.
The kindness of our atmosphere raining down a carpet
of amnesty. No safety in disaster."
10-10-84
[Odd] contrasts and similarities retain
experiences in memory
The development of intuition, a sensing of
external realities through inner movements, is
negated not by certainty but by doubt.
Science subsitutes hypothesis for hunch
What happens when you go from intuition to
hypothesis? An inner sensing is transformed
by means of a cognitive awareness?
It is interesting to note that my
projection of my own identity into
society as a whole is related to my
own inner image of what that is.
Outside responses as to what my identity
actually is determines, in part, how
I will project that identity within.
My actual survival as a specific
identity within society is determined by
my ego's ability to transfer specific
amounts of energy from one sphere to
another.Thus when someone
asserts themselves
to me, a basic challenge is made to
my process of constituting that identity within
my relations to others.
The sensing of identity
is experienced in spacial terms, as
well as in other visual metaphors.
[A person glows, vibrates, is "larger
than lifel."]
This specific actual experiencing
of a particular interval of time, but also
my projection of my identity as a
whole is sounded out for
a specific interval of time. In the
evolution of an identity,
this relationship of part to whole
is a difficult but complex issue.
It is its accessibilty to being
sounded out, its vibratory
responsiveness to others that provides
the possibility for movement and for change
in this sector of being. For this
reason, the whole of an identity must be
constituted out of parts, so that rearrangement
and change is possible.
For example, the diminution of the
inner scale of identity is one direction
that can reduce this tension.
If the whole is smaller, the
power of the parts is further
reduced, and as a result
the lessening of responsiveness
and attunement.
_________________________________________
"You are not responding to something
in her, you're responding to something
in yourself."
I have control over this, is the wish.
Myself (superego) attacks my own
identity.
My specific projection of the identity
I expected you to have of me
is a distortion of this inner
interchange between what I experience
between us about wha† you expect of me
and who I am.
If I force myself to be what I'm
imagining you expect of me, I am
diminishing my own identity, and also
distorting what I experience of
your identity.
Psychoanalysis is a process which allows a
person to view one's life as an
experience of evolving a healthier self.
'The difficulty is, of course, that this
touches on areas which have previously
been the domain of religion, ethics,
politics and medicine.
But to view and see the identity as something
developning, we must understand that the
pressure against viewing this identity as a
whole is enormous. The tentative, growing
identity is disynchronous with a concept
of the identity as a continuous whole.
Identity- in whose name it is
The view of man as a puppet of
fate in a hopeless drama
more gigantic than he
is has been reduced by psychoanalysis
to a child's projection of the
gigantic parents at first
kindling bending all over him, and
later fighting out a hopelessly
bitter and angry oedipal battle. But this
reductionism is also a change in
inner scale about the evolution of
an identity. Job's identity is
fought out on a level of power
and prayer, from this powerful
oppositionalism was to arise a
strengthened and devout soul.
This continual anticipation of the
future is a complete shift in
lterature's interest: *a model of
the mind,* not the blow-by-blow
description of the battles of the Titan
gods somehow beyond us.
A mental gymnastic in which
revelations of each
moment contribute to the *building*
of the larger totality. [refute
Boehm]It is not an inherent
wholeness, nor is it a tentative
totality inwhich most doubt must be
vanquished. As in constitutional
development, the amendments are
in actuality constantly restructuing
the totality of the direction it is
taking.
The talk about it is to
further being able to direct it.
"Acting out"is simply transferring into
[the language of language] the
level of action. By returning this
domain to speech, action is not
delayed but transmuted into
contributing towards resolving some
past conflict. The development of
identity in this atmosphere is a
development less burdened with the
past and consequently less bounded
by "fate." Perhaps the future
contains a message which not only
artists may bear but all good
listeners tothose dim sounds in
the earth our native sons and
daughters listened to to hear the
approaching riders.
[Odd] contrasts and similarities retain
experiences in memory
The development of intuition, a sensing of
external realities through inner movements, is
negated not by certainty but by doubt.
Science subsitutes hypothesis for hunch
What happens when you go from intuition to
hypothesis? An inner sensing is transformed
by means of a cognitive awareness?
It is interesting to note that my
projection of my own identity into
society as a whole is related to my
own inner image of what that is.
Outside responses as to what my identity
actually is determines, in part, how
I will project that identity within.
My actual survival as a specific
identity within society is determined by
my ego's ability to transfer specific
amounts of energy from one sphere to
another.Thus when someone
asserts themselves
to me, a basic challenge is made to
my process of constituting that identity within
my relations to others.
The sensing of identity
is experienced in spacial terms, as
well as in other visual metaphors.
[A person glows, vibrates, is "larger
than lifel."]
This specific actual experiencing
of a particular interval of time, but also
my projection of my identity as a
whole is sounded out for
a specific interval of time. In the
evolution of an identity,
this relationship of part to whole
is a difficult but complex issue.
It is its accessibilty to being
sounded out, its vibratory
responsiveness to others that provides
the possibility for movement and for change
in this sector of being. For this
reason, the whole of an identity must be
constituted out of parts, so that rearrangement
and change is possible.
For example, the diminution of the
inner scale of identity is one direction
that can reduce this tension.
If the whole is smaller, the
power of the parts is further
reduced, and as a result
the lessening of responsiveness
and attunement.
_________________________________________
"You are not responding to something
in her, you're responding to something
in yourself."
I have control over this, is the wish.
Myself (superego) attacks my own
identity.
My specific projection of the identity
I expected you to have of me
is a distortion of this inner
interchange between what I experience
between us about wha† you expect of me
and who I am.
If I force myself to be what I'm
imagining you expect of me, I am
diminishing my own identity, and also
distorting what I experience of
your identity.
Psychoanalysis is a process which allows a
person to view one's life as an
experience of evolving a healthier self.
'The difficulty is, of course, that this
touches on areas which have previously
been the domain of religion, ethics,
politics and medicine.
But to view and see the identity as something
developning, we must understand that the
pressure against viewing this identity as a
whole is enormous. The tentative, growing
identity is disynchronous with a concept
of the identity as a continuous whole.
Identity- in whose name it is
The view of man as a puppet of
fate in a hopeless drama
more gigantic than he
is has been reduced by psychoanalysis
to a child's projection of the
gigantic parents at first
kindling bending all over him, and
later fighting out a hopelessly
bitter and angry oedipal battle. But this
reductionism is also a change in
inner scale about the evolution of
an identity. Job's identity is
fought out on a level of power
and prayer, from this powerful
oppositionalism was to arise a
strengthened and devout soul.
This continual anticipation of the
future is a complete shift in
lterature's interest: *a model of
the mind,* not the blow-by-blow
description of the battles of the Titan
gods somehow beyond us.
A mental gymnastic in which
revelations of each
moment contribute to the *building*
of the larger totality. [refute
Boehm]It is not an inherent
wholeness, nor is it a tentative
totality inwhich most doubt must be
vanquished. As in constitutional
development, the amendments are
in actuality constantly restructuing
the totality of the direction it is
taking.
The talk about it is to
further being able to direct it.
"Acting out"is simply transferring into
[the language of language] the
level of action. By returning this
domain to speech, action is not
delayed but transmuted into
contributing towards resolving some
past conflict. The development of
identity in this atmosphere is a
development less burdened with the
past and consequently less bounded
by "fate." Perhaps the future
contains a message which not only
artists may bear but all good
listeners tothose dim sounds in
the earth our native sons and
daughters listened to to hear the
approaching riders.
I've been sitting in on rehearsals
with this band and they are terrific.
Check 'em out as soon as you can.
Stay Fucked @
northsix basement
66 N. 6th Street
Brooklyn
Saturday 8/2
9pm
$5
Stay Fucked is Joe Petrucelli, Hank Shteamer, and Tom Kelly.
w/ friendly bears, time of orchids, the desperation, and
behold...the arctopus.
with this band and they are terrific.
Check 'em out as soon as you can.
Stay Fucked @
northsix basement
66 N. 6th Street
Brooklyn
Saturday 8/2
9pm
$5
Stay Fucked is Joe Petrucelli, Hank Shteamer, and Tom Kelly.
w/ friendly bears, time of orchids, the desperation, and
behold...the arctopus.
Thursday, July 31
Stephanie Young and Nick Piombino
Postcard Collaboraton
forthcoming from
Cafe Expresso
Stephanie Young
4/2/03 Day 2
Colors #2
To go slowly enough
the image passes by
and doesn't notice my "whoooo"
in extravagant denims.
That these dreams should be
difficult work to write nothing
but ratchet the night
into a bluer tablet
upon which we are inscribed.
Day is a glut of prepositions
and makes "the great head" ache.
Yet I park cars, I have parked cars, the car of imagination
is parked all over Manhattan.
Nick Piombino
4/2/03
The treasures weren't
hidden, they were in plain
view all the time.
Like smoke, impatience
blinded you,
and you closed your eyes.
Postcard Collaboraton
forthcoming from
Cafe Expresso
Stephanie Young
4/2/03 Day 2
Colors #2
To go slowly enough
the image passes by
and doesn't notice my "whoooo"
in extravagant denims.
That these dreams should be
difficult work to write nothing
but ratchet the night
into a bluer tablet
upon which we are inscribed.
Day is a glut of prepositions
and makes "the great head" ache.
Yet I park cars, I have parked cars, the car of imagination
is parked all over Manhattan.
Nick Piombino
4/2/03
The treasures weren't
hidden, they were in plain
view all the time.
Like smoke, impatience
blinded you,
and you closed your eyes.
Books I brought with me to Berkeley:
Jim Behrle "City Point" (Pressed Wafer, 2000)
Jim Behrle/Fred Moten "Poems"(Pressed Wafer, 2002)
The Essential Campion (Ecco Press)
Jean-Jacques Rousseau "Reveries of a Solitary Walker"
Nada Gordon and Gary Sullivan "Swoon"(Granary, 2001)
Del Ray Cross and Stephanie Young "Postcard Poems" (Cafe Expresso)
Cassie Lewis and Stephanie Young "Postcard Poems" (Cafe Expresso)
Bought at Half-Price books on Solano
Rick Moody "The Ice Storm"(Time Warner, 1994)
Bought at Moe's
Kathy Acker "In Memoriam to Identity" (Grove Weidenfield, 1990)
Samuel Beckett "The Unnameable" (Grove, 1958)
Rainer Maria Rilke "Duino Elegies" (tr. CF McIntyre) (UC Press)
Poems of Paul Celan - translated by Michael Hamburger (Persea)
The Notebooks of Samuel Butler (Hogarth)
Mimmo Rotella
Mimmo Rotella (Juin-Sept 1996) (Galerie Dionne)
Mimmo Rotella (Instituto Gentile)
Bought at City Lights
Edward Dorn "Songs Set Two-A Short Count" (Frontier, 1970)
Diane Ward and Michael C. McMillen "Portraits and Maps"(ML and NLF, 2000)
Gary Sullivan "How to Proceed in the Arts" (Faux Press, 2001)
Jim Behrle "City Point" (Pressed Wafer, 2000)
Jim Behrle/Fred Moten "Poems"(Pressed Wafer, 2002)
The Essential Campion (Ecco Press)
Jean-Jacques Rousseau "Reveries of a Solitary Walker"
Nada Gordon and Gary Sullivan "Swoon"(Granary, 2001)
Del Ray Cross and Stephanie Young "Postcard Poems" (Cafe Expresso)
Cassie Lewis and Stephanie Young "Postcard Poems" (Cafe Expresso)
Bought at Half-Price books on Solano
Rick Moody "The Ice Storm"(Time Warner, 1994)
Bought at Moe's
Kathy Acker "In Memoriam to Identity" (Grove Weidenfield, 1990)
Samuel Beckett "The Unnameable" (Grove, 1958)
Rainer Maria Rilke "Duino Elegies" (tr. CF McIntyre) (UC Press)
Poems of Paul Celan - translated by Michael Hamburger (Persea)
The Notebooks of Samuel Butler (Hogarth)
Mimmo Rotella
Mimmo Rotella (Juin-Sept 1996) (Galerie Dionne)
Mimmo Rotella (Instituto Gentile)
Bought at City Lights
Edward Dorn "Songs Set Two-A Short Count" (Frontier, 1970)
Diane Ward and Michael C. McMillen "Portraits and Maps"(ML and NLF, 2000)
Gary Sullivan "How to Proceed in the Arts" (Faux Press, 2001)
7/4/87
It keeps occuring to me that I do
best when I write about a topic-
in spite of what I said in
Subject to Change. But, even then,
have I simply said all I want
to say? Is this the problem?
No, I love to write, I really enjoy it.
It's just that I'm only now learning to
work with it in a way that's more satisfying
No-Who am I= Who is listening to me.
When it comes to poetry, I seem to
want to speak in a soft voice. Yes,
I remember about X's readings- declaiming
his lines in a loud, booming voice. Of
course, too, Leland- affirmative,
confident- like Y. But my poetic
voice is not so confident- yet I am
no longer afraid of coming out of a delusion.
Perhaps I've been deluding myself about
poetry- but I was out to show that I
can write. Constantly assailed by
doubts, I am forever choosing things
in my life that give me no solid
foundation- with one exception- my
therapy degrees and my practice (and my therapy).
One thing about the short poem that
attracted me was its "quick fix" satisfactions.
Once published, I could easily picture
certain forms being published in certain
settings. But in the past ten years-
the definitive date being X's pronouncement-
I have discovered again that my
poems do not *progress* the way my essay
writings progress. This is true from a
publishing context with no question. But this
is largely a question of "change" as Leland's
letter puts it. In a sense, going to
a publisher is like going to a doctor. That's
where an image of Douglas holding Emma
comes in. Maybe the fact that I've tried
hard to be honest with myself that makes my
writing interesting to others- and to myself.
I'm getting more and more of a taste for that.
Part of my anxiety (I felt it then) also
comes ffrom this successive (excessive) self honesty.
Only fears of coming out of a delusion
if I'm afraid I'll have nothing else.
But then at times I get fuzzy about what
is a delusion and what is not a delusion.
But art is based on fantasy- and the
environments of mind in which I build
whatever Iwrite are important to me. From
this perspective they are not delusions-
in fact- they are the opposite. They are
*armatures* (I prefer this word so much
more to structure with its whiff of
strict schedules and strict attention.)
Why should I write anything other than what
I want to? Oh, never again (baby), never
again. "I hate to see that
evening sun go down, cause it makes me
feel like I'm on my last go-round."
(Unidentified jazz singer)
"Oh, woe is me" days are over- not that
I'll never mourn a loss. But I'm not deluded
about the "powers" or"impact" or pleasures
of such mourning.
Yet again- stimulants- coffee,
nicotine, sugar constantly ingested-
points to a problem. There is a dependence
in me on (imaginary?) and *exhilirated*
states. These still must be the result of a great fear
of calming down. And yet, that I've
found more and more ways, to avoid
acting out my anxieties brings me a
measure of constant strength (awareness of
strength).
A "primitive language" is an awareness of
the values of giving expression to
ones thoughts as a way of learning
what they are. "Free speech" then "free association"
then- private language ("personal" language?)
It keeps occuring to me that I do
best when I write about a topic-
in spite of what I said in
Subject to Change. But, even then,
have I simply said all I want
to say? Is this the problem?
No, I love to write, I really enjoy it.
It's just that I'm only now learning to
work with it in a way that's more satisfying
No-Who am I= Who is listening to me.
When it comes to poetry, I seem to
want to speak in a soft voice. Yes,
I remember about X's readings- declaiming
his lines in a loud, booming voice. Of
course, too, Leland- affirmative,
confident- like Y. But my poetic
voice is not so confident- yet I am
no longer afraid of coming out of a delusion.
Perhaps I've been deluding myself about
poetry- but I was out to show that I
can write. Constantly assailed by
doubts, I am forever choosing things
in my life that give me no solid
foundation- with one exception- my
therapy degrees and my practice (and my therapy).
One thing about the short poem that
attracted me was its "quick fix" satisfactions.
Once published, I could easily picture
certain forms being published in certain
settings. But in the past ten years-
the definitive date being X's pronouncement-
I have discovered again that my
poems do not *progress* the way my essay
writings progress. This is true from a
publishing context with no question. But this
is largely a question of "change" as Leland's
letter puts it. In a sense, going to
a publisher is like going to a doctor. That's
where an image of Douglas holding Emma
comes in. Maybe the fact that I've tried
hard to be honest with myself that makes my
writing interesting to others- and to myself.
I'm getting more and more of a taste for that.
Part of my anxiety (I felt it then) also
comes ffrom this successive (excessive) self honesty.
Only fears of coming out of a delusion
if I'm afraid I'll have nothing else.
But then at times I get fuzzy about what
is a delusion and what is not a delusion.
But art is based on fantasy- and the
environments of mind in which I build
whatever Iwrite are important to me. From
this perspective they are not delusions-
in fact- they are the opposite. They are
*armatures* (I prefer this word so much
more to structure with its whiff of
strict schedules and strict attention.)
Why should I write anything other than what
I want to? Oh, never again (baby), never
again. "I hate to see that
evening sun go down, cause it makes me
feel like I'm on my last go-round."
(Unidentified jazz singer)
"Oh, woe is me" days are over- not that
I'll never mourn a loss. But I'm not deluded
about the "powers" or"impact" or pleasures
of such mourning.
Yet again- stimulants- coffee,
nicotine, sugar constantly ingested-
points to a problem. There is a dependence
in me on (imaginary?) and *exhilirated*
states. These still must be the result of a great fear
of calming down. And yet, that I've
found more and more ways, to avoid
acting out my anxieties brings me a
measure of constant strength (awareness of
strength).
A "primitive language" is an awareness of
the values of giving expression to
ones thoughts as a way of learning
what they are. "Free speech" then "free association"
then- private language ("personal" language?)
Postcard Poems + Oxygen
on Sunday, August 3 @ 7pm
Poetry Espresso
wishes you HERE:
2202 Oxygen Bar
795 Valencia @ 19th
San Francisco
to celebrate & read from
Postcard Poems books
readings (in pairs) by:
Cassie Lewis
Tim Yu
Stephanie Young
Jennifer Dannenberg
Nick Piombino
Catherine Meng
Del Ray Cross
& if you can't attend
you can nab these
lovely books here:
www.poetryespresso.org
*
It is my great pleasure to remind you that I have been invited by
Cynthia Sailers and the New Brutalists to read at 21 Grand with
Patrick Durgin on Sunday, August 10th, 7-9 p. m.
449B 23rd Street Oakland
$4 cover
on Sunday, August 3 @ 7pm
Poetry Espresso
wishes you HERE:
2202 Oxygen Bar
795 Valencia @ 19th
San Francisco
to celebrate & read from
Postcard Poems books
readings (in pairs) by:
Cassie Lewis
Tim Yu
Stephanie Young
Jennifer Dannenberg
Nick Piombino
Catherine Meng
Del Ray Cross
& if you can't attend
you can nab these
lovely books here:
www.poetryespresso.org
*
It is my great pleasure to remind you that I have been invited by
Cynthia Sailers and the New Brutalists to read at 21 Grand with
Patrick Durgin on Sunday, August 10th, 7-9 p. m.
449B 23rd Street Oakland
$4 cover
Limetree ... Kasey S. Mohammed posted some excerpts from my chapbook-essay The Boundary of Theory (Cuneiform Press, 2001), along with some of my comments from an accompanying interview with Kyle Schlesinger, over on his Zombie blog.
Thanks, Kasey. This chapbook was published in an edition of 100 so has long been out of print. This is its first internet appearance!
Thanks, Kasey. This chapbook was published in an edition of 100 so has long been out of print. This is its first internet appearance!
7/4/87
It keeps occuring to me that I do
best when I write about a topic-
in spite of what I said in
Subject to Change. But, even then,
have I simply said all I want
to say? Is this the problem?
No, I love to write, I really enjoy it.
It's just that I'm only now learning to
work with it in a way that's more satisfying
No-Who am I= Who is listening to me.
When it comes to poetry, I seem to
want to speak in a soft voice. Yes,
I remember about X's readings- declaiming
his lines in a loud, booming voice. Of
course, too, Leland- affirmative,
confident- like Y. But my poetic
voice is not so confident- yet I am
no longer afraid of coming out of a delusion.
Perhaps I've been deluding myself about
poetry- but I was out to show that I
can write. Constantly assailed by
doubts, I am forever choosing things
in my life that give me no solid
foundation- with one exception- my
therapy degrees and my practice (and my therapy).
One thing about the short poem that
attracted me was its "quick fix" satisfactions.
Once published,I could easily picture
certain forms being published in certain
settings. But in the past ten years-
the definitive date being X's pronouncement-
I have discovered again that my
poems do not *progress* the way my essay
writings progress. This is true from a
publishing context with no question. But this
is largely a question of "change" as Leland's
letter puts it. In a sense, going to
a publisher is like going to a doctor. That's
where an image of Douglas holding Emma
comes in. Maybe the fact that I've tried
hard to be honest with myself that makes my
writing interesting to others- and to myself.
I'm getting more and more of a taste for that.
Part of my anxiety (I felt it then) also
comes ffrom this successive (excessive) self honesty.
Only fears of coming out of a delusion
if I'm afraid I'll have nothing else.
But then at times I get fuzzy about what
is a delusion and what is not a delusion.
But art is based on fantasy- and the
environments of mind in which I build
whatever Iwrite are important to me. From
this perspective they are not delusions-
in fact- they are the opposite. They are
*armatures* (I prefer this word so much
more to structure with its whiff of
strict schedules and strict attention.)
Why should I write anything other than what
I want to? Oh, never again (baby), never
again. "I hate to see that
evening sun go down, cause it makes me
feel like I'm on my lastgo-round."
(Unidentified jazz singer)
"Oh, woe is me" days are over- not that
I'll never mourn a loss. But I'm not deluded
about the "powers" or"impact" or pleasures
of such mourning.
Yet again- stimulants- coffee,
nicotine, sugar constantly ingested-
points to a problem. There is a dependence
in me on (imaginary?) and *exhilirated*
states. These still must be the result of a great fear
of calming down. And yet, that I've
found more and more ways, to avoid
acting out my anxieties brings me a
measure of constant strength (awareness of
strength).
A "primitive language" is an awareness of
the values of giving expression to
ones thoughts as a way of learning
what they are. "Free speech" then "free association"
then- private language ("personal" language?)
It keeps occuring to me that I do
best when I write about a topic-
in spite of what I said in
Subject to Change. But, even then,
have I simply said all I want
to say? Is this the problem?
No, I love to write, I really enjoy it.
It's just that I'm only now learning to
work with it in a way that's more satisfying
No-Who am I= Who is listening to me.
When it comes to poetry, I seem to
want to speak in a soft voice. Yes,
I remember about X's readings- declaiming
his lines in a loud, booming voice. Of
course, too, Leland- affirmative,
confident- like Y. But my poetic
voice is not so confident- yet I am
no longer afraid of coming out of a delusion.
Perhaps I've been deluding myself about
poetry- but I was out to show that I
can write. Constantly assailed by
doubts, I am forever choosing things
in my life that give me no solid
foundation- with one exception- my
therapy degrees and my practice (and my therapy).
One thing about the short poem that
attracted me was its "quick fix" satisfactions.
Once published,I could easily picture
certain forms being published in certain
settings. But in the past ten years-
the definitive date being X's pronouncement-
I have discovered again that my
poems do not *progress* the way my essay
writings progress. This is true from a
publishing context with no question. But this
is largely a question of "change" as Leland's
letter puts it. In a sense, going to
a publisher is like going to a doctor. That's
where an image of Douglas holding Emma
comes in. Maybe the fact that I've tried
hard to be honest with myself that makes my
writing interesting to others- and to myself.
I'm getting more and more of a taste for that.
Part of my anxiety (I felt it then) also
comes ffrom this successive (excessive) self honesty.
Only fears of coming out of a delusion
if I'm afraid I'll have nothing else.
But then at times I get fuzzy about what
is a delusion and what is not a delusion.
But art is based on fantasy- and the
environments of mind in which I build
whatever Iwrite are important to me. From
this perspective they are not delusions-
in fact- they are the opposite. They are
*armatures* (I prefer this word so much
more to structure with its whiff of
strict schedules and strict attention.)
Why should I write anything other than what
I want to? Oh, never again (baby), never
again. "I hate to see that
evening sun go down, cause it makes me
feel like I'm on my lastgo-round."
(Unidentified jazz singer)
"Oh, woe is me" days are over- not that
I'll never mourn a loss. But I'm not deluded
about the "powers" or"impact" or pleasures
of such mourning.
Yet again- stimulants- coffee,
nicotine, sugar constantly ingested-
points to a problem. There is a dependence
in me on (imaginary?) and *exhilirated*
states. These still must be the result of a great fear
of calming down. And yet, that I've
found more and more ways, to avoid
acting out my anxieties brings me a
measure of constant strength (awareness of
strength).
A "primitive language" is an awareness of
the values of giving expression to
ones thoughts as a way of learning
what they are. "Free speech" then "free association"
then- private language ("personal" language?)
Wednesday, July 30
See Ironstone Whirlygig...Amanda Cook Tuesday, July 29 for the whole saga of Gata lost and Gata found, Xtina telling me she was found, but being wrong, me posting it but being right! A little bi-coastal time travel for your Wednesday entertainment.
8/4/84
Leaf hour slip harbor past
Light yellow fading slow quick gradually
Tilt move touch reach pull turn stand low
Far for turned new now know when
Simple heard good odd down way yearn
Neither never veer element pause certain
Let go gather here reveal nascent tremor
Mercurial leap peasant rush sheet where
Present person rush heather thought time mere
Item listen target storm map pleasant nurture
Grow reasoning glistening term time member bear
High glisten surround only unless perfect trim
Hum hammer next close dear receive every
Prism color vast stream strewn travel tow
Machine muscle merchant crew creme inter enter
Trade decent unusual swum proper primitive true
Harbor hover past striped simple crew last
Connect projection cotton link sally thrust
Imply implore arouse roam more apple
Pull level veil empty extra extreme trail
Lore arrive venture about contain natural
Varnish people present entail signal nor
Trust unveil voyage virtue untried untrammable
Travail looming moor only allow when near
Removal alters treasure doubt tools tails
Entreats greets enters avers a verse
Gross gas gears stress mobile efforts twice
Columns save inveterate scars scare
Returns tarnished hints twins assail votes
Motion mixes several renewed wise source
Rhythm satisfies tall tight watery yards
Several light heeds condensed scattered dim
Movement means towards rising reddening dew
Leaf hour slip harbor past
Light yellow fading slow quick gradually
Tilt move touch reach pull turn stand low
Far for turned new now know when
Simple heard good odd down way yearn
Neither never veer element pause certain
Let go gather here reveal nascent tremor
Mercurial leap peasant rush sheet where
Present person rush heather thought time mere
Item listen target storm map pleasant nurture
Grow reasoning glistening term time member bear
High glisten surround only unless perfect trim
Hum hammer next close dear receive every
Prism color vast stream strewn travel tow
Machine muscle merchant crew creme inter enter
Trade decent unusual swum proper primitive true
Harbor hover past striped simple crew last
Connect projection cotton link sally thrust
Imply implore arouse roam more apple
Pull level veil empty extra extreme trail
Lore arrive venture about contain natural
Varnish people present entail signal nor
Trust unveil voyage virtue untried untrammable
Travail looming moor only allow when near
Removal alters treasure doubt tools tails
Entreats greets enters avers a verse
Gross gas gears stress mobile efforts twice
Columns save inveterate scars scare
Returns tarnished hints twins assail votes
Motion mixes several renewed wise source
Rhythm satisfies tall tight watery yards
Several light heeds condensed scattered dim
Movement means towards rising reddening dew
Tuesday, July 29
Ironstone Whirlygig...Amanda Cook's cat Gata is back. And thanks to Gata's safe return, which it seems I anticipated, with the kind help of xtina.org....Christina Strong I have been placed in the #1 spot on Amanda's Crush List. Proud of it, too.
Best of all, Amanda's smiling again, nobody's freaked out and everybody's home.
Best of all, Amanda's smiling again, nobody's freaked out and everybody's home.
Monday, July 28
xtina.org....Christina Strong tells me that Amanda's cat is back. Let's give it a
Chris Murray YaY (sorry, David, this is an emergency). (The Whiffle sniffles are gone too, evidently.)
Chris Murray YaY (sorry, David, this is an emergency). (The Whiffle sniffles are gone too, evidently.)
Blogger alert! Ironstone Whirlygig...Amanda Cook is back but her cat is missing and she feels unwiffled. Welcome backs, letters, poems, ok?
Another convergence of East and West tonight at 21 Grand. Toni and I were delighted to see our poet friend from New York Chris Stroffolino perform as we hung out with loved and familiar New York poet friends from the Ear Inn/Segue scene (most recently at Bob Holman's Bowery Poetry Club) Laynie Browne, Judith Goldman, and Dan Farrell and new friends Chris Murray(Texas), Catherine Meng, Stephanie Young, Mike Cross, James Meetze and others (Bay Area). Eugene Ostashevsky's smashed philosophy of "DJ Spinoza" threw my mind right through the looking glass of hysterical laughter, zen wit and loony contemplation. Toni and Laynie enjoyed the Russian nuances. I was reminded of Andrei Codrescu. Geoffrey Dyer read sensitive, personal poems, sometimes evoking connections with family and friends in the audience, bringing an aura of warmth and friendship into the room, evocative and sophisticated yet a marked contrast to the richly complex. labyrinthal essay presentation on Friday at Mama Buzz. Chris Stroffolino's tight, hard driving yet melodic rock band Continuous Peasant well deserves the au courant adjectve awesome (we got a moment to briefly chat after his set) and Laynie Browne, Toni and me all agreed that we were sorry to be unable to hear out Eli Drabman's Black Plastics band, whose music seemed to gently follow us up the Berkeley hills. This weekend of New Brutalism poetry and music made me feel welcome and admiring of the poetry and music scene here, and hankering for more. And just you wait Enry Iggins there will be more!
The Brutal Kittens...James Meetze will no doubt disagree and find other things to tell you about how he liked the evening at 21 Grand more and better!
The Brutal Kittens...James Meetze will no doubt disagree and find other things to tell you about how he liked the evening at 21 Grand more and better!
Sunday, July 27
Looks like my lame attempt at blog humor didn't come off in that James Meetze felt obliged to answer my teasing post point for point Anyway, it gave us a chance to reiterate what a fine reading it was indeed. Not only that, but drinks and books and good vibes all around. I even won a raffle!
I just might never go back to New York
I just might never go back to New York
I think I need to clear the air here. James Meetze says our accounts of Friday night are different. I said the reading was terrific and he said the reading was great. He said this was the best group reading he's ever been to. I indirectly compared this reading with the start of the San Francisco Rennaisance and the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E group. I want to put our differences before the blogging community right now. Which of us was more positive about this reading? Maybe me and James can straighten out our disagreements and find an adjective we can both agree on. How about fantastically phenomenal? Don't you agree that it is important to clear up differing perceptions as soon as possible?
from Eeksy-Peeksy,,,Malcolm Davidson
Storm. I cannot sit still inside my head.
posted by eeksypeeksy | 3:17 PM
Storm. I cannot sit still inside my head.
posted by eeksypeeksy | 3:17 PM
Chris Sullivan asked me on Friday night at the reading at Mama Buzz if my
diary entries here are fictionalized. I wish I could make that claim, but no, they
are exact transcriptions from my diaries. Thanks for asking, Chris.
2/18/87
Insight: (thinking, today, of Martin Luther King, Jr.)
"Free at last, Free at last, dear God in heaven,
free at last." [Once you *really* start
talking, they won't want you to stop] [If you
have anything useful to say, or if the occasion
of your saying it is useful for people] [such as
"elevating" the way King effects me when he says,
free at last]
Visualization in each word is accompanied by
a visualization of its referent. To create
a tautology between the two a pictogram
or some variant of one is necessary.
The structure of the song mimes the
evolution of a thought or a sequence of
thoughts. Theme, variation, theme, as
in the Beethoven sense, a "searching"
for a "resolution." Think of the third or
the 5th Symphony. A motive is announced,
(the way the thought process "announces" or
"proclaims" an idea- and this idea resonates,
often with the pragmatic or realistic
applications of the thought) with other
thoughts. Then the whole thing usually quiets
down. Symphonic music usually follows
this structure- the better it is, the more
nuances are provided.
To return to the notion of visualization.
The symphonic form itself may be understood
as an acoustic visualization of the syntax
of thought (Watten's book)[note: Total Syntax]. New associations,
or revitalized associations may spring from,
for example, a stirring "motive"- "free at last,"
etc., or the opening motive of Beethoven's 5th.
The emotional element of thought is also
foregrounded in the establishment of a motive.
Each of us has a visualization referent for
nearly every word in our vocabulary.
Writing and reading poetry, in the 20th Century,
particularly, has established, again and again,
the powerful impact not of *confirming* past
visualizations, but of establishing new processes
for foregrounding the ideological
and social basis for frequently employed
visualizations.
2/21/87
To say that attention is the same as
consciousness is like saying that speed
is the same thing as the speedometer.
2/22
Very much wanting find the page
with the "ideal points" quote- I opened up
the book to the exact page (this is to avoid
citing Derrida *twice*-Oedipal?)
2/24
More resistance- when I found
the quote (on p. 574) of Interpretation
of Dreams-
I have decided to ADD the FReud
citation t *Currents of Attention*
2/26/87
The celebratory functions have long been
joined with the sacrificial and the addictive
facilities. I have long suspected this but
never before stated it quite this way. Thinking
and not-saying is powerful also (this is
related to the Jakobsen point about
listening) (this is a kind of gestation) (this
also reminds me of my father)
image drops
*
*
*
*
*
or stream
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
In the first image, each drop has more
specificity- NSCW also allows for more
specificity- such as using parentheses above.
2/26
Ha-ha-ha- this notebook is
titled *Single Subject*
poem: The Unspoken
diary entries here are fictionalized. I wish I could make that claim, but no, they
are exact transcriptions from my diaries. Thanks for asking, Chris.
2/18/87
Insight: (thinking, today, of Martin Luther King, Jr.)
"Free at last, Free at last, dear God in heaven,
free at last." [Once you *really* start
talking, they won't want you to stop] [If you
have anything useful to say, or if the occasion
of your saying it is useful for people] [such as
"elevating" the way King effects me when he says,
free at last]
Visualization in each word is accompanied by
a visualization of its referent. To create
a tautology between the two a pictogram
or some variant of one is necessary.
The structure of the song mimes the
evolution of a thought or a sequence of
thoughts. Theme, variation, theme, as
in the Beethoven sense, a "searching"
for a "resolution." Think of the third or
the 5th Symphony. A motive is announced,
(the way the thought process "announces" or
"proclaims" an idea- and this idea resonates,
often with the pragmatic or realistic
applications of the thought) with other
thoughts. Then the whole thing usually quiets
down. Symphonic music usually follows
this structure- the better it is, the more
nuances are provided.
To return to the notion of visualization.
The symphonic form itself may be understood
as an acoustic visualization of the syntax
of thought (Watten's book)[note: Total Syntax]. New associations,
or revitalized associations may spring from,
for example, a stirring "motive"- "free at last,"
etc., or the opening motive of Beethoven's 5th.
The emotional element of thought is also
foregrounded in the establishment of a motive.
Each of us has a visualization referent for
nearly every word in our vocabulary.
Writing and reading poetry, in the 20th Century,
particularly, has established, again and again,
the powerful impact not of *confirming* past
visualizations, but of establishing new processes
for foregrounding the ideological
and social basis for frequently employed
visualizations.
2/21/87
To say that attention is the same as
consciousness is like saying that speed
is the same thing as the speedometer.
2/22
Very much wanting find the page
with the "ideal points" quote- I opened up
the book to the exact page (this is to avoid
citing Derrida *twice*-Oedipal?)
2/24
More resistance- when I found
the quote (on p. 574) of Interpretation
of Dreams-
I have decided to ADD the FReud
citation t *Currents of Attention*
2/26/87
The celebratory functions have long been
joined with the sacrificial and the addictive
facilities. I have long suspected this but
never before stated it quite this way. Thinking
and not-saying is powerful also (this is
related to the Jakobsen point about
listening) (this is a kind of gestation) (this
also reminds me of my father)
image drops
*
*
*
*
*
or stream
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
In the first image, each drop has more
specificity- NSCW also allows for more
specificity- such as using parentheses above.
2/26
Ha-ha-ha- this notebook is
titled *Single Subject*
poem: The Unspoken
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