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[12 Dec 2009|12:55am] |
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and here's the short skim before the big hop back. crippled and in disrepair, finally cutting out the flat out come of the first 20/25 poems. moving home. and all i want, is to become this boring drug-free responsible student guru. i intend to make myself a better human being, and live without object desire or want. &in hopes, this stream of acting right will lead everything to the always is.
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| i spent twenty five hours glued into this uncomfortable corner of my couch |
[02 Dec 2009|11:17pm] |
hunched over a macbook, which i'm now fairly proficient in using out of necessity. i got a thumb drive, which to most people wouldn't be a big deal, but i think it's bitchin. i'm halfway through my set goal in stellar, stellar time; and i think i'm comfortable with what i'm doing and how i'm doing it, i've got my hands clasped on either side of the word &i'm going to hold on for as long as i can. (however everywhere else in my life is all warped and i hope to be making a honorable retreat in order to gain some mental stability, and hell; dicipline)
it's funny to me that i had this goal to just tackle this project with a title in mind, which actually metaphorically applied to what i was in fact doing, but i guess that's what gave me the experience enough that i could explain all the complicated arm contortions& the proper way to bend your knees.
my typewriter has been rendered, out of commission; he was an outstanding piece of machinery, and in alot of ways, i blame myself for running him into the ground. I'm looking for a replacement, the constant hail of metal on paper is a comforting and inspiring noise, it helps me keep pace with myself. DIL, it was real.
conflicting progress is still progress though right?
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[21 Nov 2009|06:03pm] |
HUGE room for rent in brighton
425 plus utilities but we have free heat and hot water
my cat's awesome, john and jaqui are real cool,
right off comm ave, about 2 seconds from the mbta.
525 needs to be put down on 12/1 and we NEED a fucking roommate
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| how to crawl backwards |
[20 Nov 2009|02:03pm] |
PUTTING ALOT OF ATTENTION ON WRITING, PERFORMANCES AND BLOG SOON TO FOLLOW.
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[21 Oct 2009|12:55pm] |
well
sheeeeeeeeeeeet that was close \
brain chemistry is approaching normal levels
so, what now, what is next?
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| BOMB by gregory corso |
[01 Oct 2009|11:45am] |
Budger of history Brake of time You Bomb
Toy of universe Grandest of all snatched sky I cannot hate you
Do I hate the mischievous thunderbolt the jawbone of an ass
The bumpy club of One Million B.C. the mace the flail the axe
Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Cochise flintlock Kidd dagger Rathbone
Ah and the sad desparate gun of Verlaine Pushkin Dillinger Bogart
And hath not St. Michael a burning sword St. George a lance David a sling
Bomb you are as cruel as man makes you and you're no crueller than cancer
All Man hates you they'd rather die by car-crash lightning drowning
Falling off a roof electric-chair heart-attack old age old age O Bomb
They'd rather die by anything but you Death's finger is free-lance
Not up to man whether you boom or not Death has long since distributed its
categorical blue I sing thee Bomb Death's extravagance Death's jubilee
Gem of Death's supremest blue The flyer will crash his death will differ
with the climbor who'll fall to die by cobra is not to die by bad pork
Some die by swamp some by sea and some by the bushy-haired man in the night
O there are deaths like witches of Arc Scarey deaths like Boris Karloff
No-feeling deaths like birth-death sadless deaths like old pain Bowery
Abandoned deaths like Capital Punishment stately deaths like senators
And unthinkable deaths like Harpo Marx girls on Vogue covers my own
I do not know just how horrible Bombdeath is I can only imagine
Yet no other death I know has so laughable a preview I scope
a city New York City streaming starkeyed subway shelter
Scores and scores A fumble of humanity High heels bend
Hats whelming away Youth forgetting their combs
Ladies not knowing what to do with their shopping bags
Unperturbed gum machines Yet dangerous 3rd rail
Ritz Brothers from the Bronx caught in the A train
The smiling Schenley poster will always smile
Impish death Satyr Bomb Bombdeath
Turtles exploding over Istanbul
The jaguar's flying foot
soon to sink in arctic snow
Penguins plunged against the Sphinx
The top of the Empire state
arrowed in a broccoli field in Sicily
Eiffel shaped like a C in Magnolia Gardens
St. Sophia peeling over Sudan
O athletic Death Sportive Bomb
the temples of ancient times
their grand ruin ceased
Electrons Protons Neutrons
gathering Hersperean hair
walking the dolorous gulf of Arcady
joining marble helmsmen
entering the final ampitheater
with a hymnody feeling of all Troys
heralding cypressean torches
racing plumes and banners
and yet knowing Homer with a step of grace
Lo the visiting team of Present
the home team of Past
Lyre and tube together joined
Hark the hotdog soda olive grape
gala galaxy robed and uniformed
commissary O the happy stands
Ethereal root and cheer and boo
The billioned all-time attendance
The Zeusian pandemonium
Hermes racing Owens
The Spitball of Buddha
Christ striking out
Luther stealing third
Planeterium Death Hosannah Bomb
Gush the final rose O Spring Bomb
Come with thy gown of dynamite green
unmenace Nature's inviolate eye
Before you the wimpled Past
behind you the hallooing Future O Bomb
Bound in the grassy clarion air
like the fox of the tally-ho
thy field the universe thy hedge the geo
Leap Bomb bound Bomb frolic zig and zag
The stars a swarm of bees in thy binging bag
Stick angels on your jubilee feet
wheels of rainlight on your bunky seat
You are due and behold you are due
and the heavens are with you
hosanna incalescent glorious liaison
BOMB O havoc antiphony molten cleft BOOM
Bomb mark infinity a sudden furnace
spread thy multitudinous encompassed Sweep
set forth awful agenda
Carrion stars charnel planets carcass elements
Corpse the universe tee-hee finger-in-the-mouth hop
over its long long dead Nor
From thy nimbled matted spastic eye
exhaust deluges of celestial ghouls
From thy appellational womb
spew birth-gusts of of great worms
Rip open your belly Bomb
from your belly outflock vulturic salutations
Battle forth your spangled hyena finger stumps
along the brink of Paradise
O Bomb O final Pied Piper
both sun and firefly behind your shock waltz
God abandoned mock-nude
beneath His thin false-talc's apocalypse
He cannot hear thy flute's
happy-the-day profanations
He is spilled deaf into the Silencer's warty ear
His Kingdom an eternity of crude wax
Clogged clarions untrumpet Him
Sealed angels unsing Him
A thunderless God A dead God
O Bomb thy BOOM His tomb
That I lean forward on a desk of science
an astrologer dabbling in dragon prose
half-smart about wars bombs especially bombs
That I am unable to hate what is necessary to love
That I can't exist in a world that consents
a child in a park a man dying in an electric-chair
That I am able to laugh at all things
all that I know and do not know thus to conceal my pain
That I say I am a poet and therefore love all man
knowing my words to be the acquainted prophecy of all men
and my unwords no less an acquaintanceship
That I am manifold
a man pursuing the big lies of gold
or a poet roaming in bright ashes
or that which I imagine myself to be
a shark-toothed sleep a man-eater of dreams
I need not then be all-smart about bombs
Happily so for if I felt bombs were caterpillars
I'd doubt not they'd become butterflies
There is a hell for bombs
They're there I see them there
They sit in bits and sing songs
mostly German songs
And two very long American songs
and they wish there were more songs
especially Russian and Chinese songs
and some more very long American songs
Poor little Bomb that'll never be
an Eskimo song I love thee
I want to put a lollipop
in thy furcal mouth
A wig of Goldilocks on thy baldy bean
and have you skip with me Hansel and Gretel
along the Hollywoodian screen
O Bomb in which all lovely things
moral and physical anxiously participate
O fairylike plucked from the
grandest universe tree
O piece of heaven which gives
both mountain and anthill a sun
I am standing before your fantastic lily door
I bring you Midgardian roses Arcadian musk
Reputed cosmetics from the girls of heaven
Welcome me fear not thy opened door
nor thy cold ghost's grey memory
nor the pimps of indefinite weather
their cruel terrestial thaw
Oppenheimer is seated
in the dark pocket of Light
Fermi is dry in Death's Mozambique
Einstein his mythmouth
a barnacled wreath on the moon-squid's head
Let me in Bomb rise from that pregnant-rat corner
nor fear the raised-broom nations of the world
O Bomb I love you
I want to kiss your clank eat your boom
You are a paean an acme of scream
a lyric hat of Mister Thunder
O resound thy tanky knees
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM
BOOM ye skies and BOOM ye suns
BOOM BOOM ye moons ye stars BOOM
nights ye BOOM ye days ye BOOM
BOOM BOOM ye winds ye clouds ye rains
go BANG ye lakes ye oceans BING
Barracuda BOOM and cougar BOOM
Ubangi BOOM orangutang
BING BANG BONG BOOM bee bear baboon
ye BANG ye BONG ye BING
the tail the fin the wing
Yes Yes into our midst a bomb will fall
Flowers will leap in joy their roots aching
Fields will kneel proud beneath the halleluyahs of the wind
Pinkbombs will blossom Elkbombs will perk their ears
Ah many a bomb that day will awe the bird a gentle look
Yet not enough to say a bomb will fall
or even contend celestial fire goes out
Know that the earth will madonna the Bomb
that in the hearts of men to come more bombs will be born
magisterial bombs wrapped in ermine all beautiful
and they'll sit plunk on earth's grumpy empires
fierce with moustaches of gold
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[19 Sep 2009|04:44pm] |
run down on humanity:
we are all here to suffer
the pains of our mistakes
and when we see light it's always
darker than you thought it would be.
[so shut up and bury your head in books, masturbate while thinking of a world that doesn't so closely resemble hell.]
btw;
idk if you guys are on button with this, but the fall of capitalism is happening all around us, not to sound like a doom heralding commie, but that's what it is, world war is months/years away
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[04 Aug 2009|09:07pm] |
periodically over the course of this whole ordeal i wanted to put the breaks
on
and say whoa whoa whoa
what exactly is happening
or what am i doing here?
i mean this?
did i say that or just think it.
lots of bad noise, lots of loud hurt, loud loud hurt,
i feel frantic. but it's over.
and dark knight sucked.
i have a much more normal schedule now, it's just alot rougher. 9-7 work day five days a week, but it's a better job and i feel like i'm being responsible, and all this time will amount in large paychecks to live easy. so i'm going to work like a bastard and recoop on my own time. hell i'm almost twenty. and i feel alot of things at one given time; most of them colliding and i feel like a reactor walking around, and the future freaks me out.
we'll see.
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| everyone on livejournal's going through some shit |
[31 Jul 2009|11:00pm] |
the first page of my friends page depressed the fuck out of me, and i don't know if any of you are going to read this, but i wanted to give you each a bit of encouragement; regardless of how well i know you or how often we talk. i hope it helps.
BILLY: I don't know you very well, or at all really, but i hope you find your grounding point in yourself to build from, from there things will get better i think, but good luck.
KATE: ages ago, when we corresponded, i pictured life falling into place for you, and i'm glad it did, you're a smart girl and i think you're going to do something someday.
MIKE: for gods sakes man, keep writing.
JASMINE: things never seem to be going ok for you, and when they are i think you're trying to convince yourself that they're ok instead of just believing it, or life just is really sick sometimes, and that happens. it seems like you keep your head, above the water.
JAQUI; i'm glad you're home, re-coop, and we'll be in touch, i want you around.
MOLLY: don't wish you were other people, that's silly, you're good at putting your rag together and don't bother so much about looks, just be so good at what you love and that'll make you beautiful on it's own. [and maybe be a little less absurdly critical about my prose and i've got a few more things i can submit to impart.]
CORRINE: congratulations about moving out; and ten pounds is a pittance i'm sure you look terrific. as per hermit like tendencies and distaste toward other humans; i can't offer much advice there, as i suffer from a similar problem, just do good things with your time to yourself; stay positive, i've never known anyone better at it.
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[14 Jul 2009|12:36pm] |
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in case any of you cared, episodes 1-49 of gundam wing are on alluc.org; it's basically what i've been doing from 12am-5am every day for the past two weeks, and i'm on 45 now. also; read the book 'hard boiled wonderland and the end of the world' i also sternly suggest you check out 'in the penal colony' by kafka. i can currently make no statement of my frame of mind, i'm just convincing myself and hoping, that all is well.
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[24 Jun 2009|08:01am] |
want one?
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[27 Apr 2009|04:18pm] |
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quick smile flash of a peace sign and a rash decision, back to square one, stability returning. june first.
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[15 Apr 2009|09:37pm] |
29 commonwealth terrace
apartment three
brighton, ma
here we come, lord
i hope you're ready to be inhabited by
your coolest tenants to date.
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| jack, william, allen, you'll never know what you've done for me |
[13 Apr 2009|12:11am] |
1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house
4. Be in love with yr life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Don't think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You're a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven
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[04 Apr 2009|09:50am] |
holy god, what my life is doing right now. i've got so much going on and i'm reading a ton and i'm digging it. i've started to get real into the beat writers and currently i'm on 'on the road' and it's been a fucking sweet read. i've got a girlfriend, she's sweet i like her. she's into the things i'm into, she likes the things i draw for her and she's got about a hundred thousand quirks about her that each in their own way make me glad to be here. i'm pretty sure, not positive; but pretty sure, that i'm in this thrash band STREET SHARKS now, i tried out and they seem to be down and i really liked the two kids that i'm going to be working with, so that's something i'm like seriously excited about, it's just tough to picture myself as the singer of thrash band, and like, playing shows, etc.
but
i just have to get my writing back
to a daily level, which i have to finish reading on the road first
becuase it's been a tremendous influence. but
im excited to have a girlfriend, and i'm excited to be a street shark
and nextgen might hire me full time paid as an intern.
word up word up word up
and you know
name's mc, band's lee major put us on the bill, boy you hit paydirt; put us on the mike, the girlies wanna flizzert, but i tell 'em chill; like a dq blizzard.
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[08 Jan 2009|05:23pm] |
i have a lot of things on buffet style plate; and there's alot going on and, i can't really articulate what i'm trying to do sometimes, making music or whatever is going on is a real mindfuck for me because i never thought it was something i could be even remotely involved in it; it always seemed bigger than me,and in many ways it is. and i can't say that these things
will be finished
appropriately handled
or even as versed as well as i have them in my head
but it's raining ideas in here and i have no other way to keep up than to keep
doing this,and that
and what have you.
but god do i need help, so please, community.
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[01 Jan 2009|03:52pm] |
my fingers are finding their way around your struggling throat while your eyes scream red and your face begins to turn blue, spots start appearing on your tongue and all the air escapes you and now your body lay limp, and you're 21 grams lighter,
and no longer trying to scream
i told you to put the cover back on the milk,
look what you've done.
now it's spoiled and you're dead.
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| i was bored. |
[01 Jan 2009|03:00pm] |
heavens open arms lay behind razors when you're head lays in
your hands and the streets are teeming in an eb and flow of the outside
and you're scared,
and you're scared, but
looking back on the skies you can't let those stars consume you,
they with their jaws and their angels waiting to carry you up, but
idle bodies on beaches, where things will settle
or your throat will be filled with sand
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and the mens with the guns told me to put my face flat on the ground while they
pilfered through my body looking for anything of worth, and my body sprawled on the ground in a bludgeoned defeat,
i think my time should be better spent fleeing from the bronx instead of falling down in alleys.
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GOOD GOD!
when your skin peels backward like that i could swear to see your skeleton with its
legs
and spine
and nerves
and rib cage
exposed with organs kissing the air while the momentum of aching ancles carries you away to your safe quiet place where you're warm and you can rest. and the city lights
are beating, beating, beating down on your home and now you know not where to lay.
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