Fresh Poetry ~ “Gummy Bears”

Ludovic Bertrona life run by ghosts
we shall find the rose
pink, no more of red. 
 
light is gradually removed: 
hypnosis, consumption, submission
a bottomless pit of emptiness.
 
the balance of buried functions 
all serve to trigger dissociation;
that tingle means it’s working.
 
look at anagrams,
pyramid bloodlines
music is extremely important.
 
separate the pieces, reassemble them to
smash them again for a better view
collect them now into a correct order.
 
hammer the orbitoclast,
sink the anchor,
program the kitten.
 
fantasy world: second level
the glass splinters
death & sacrifice.
 
a perverted father repeatedly & systematically
interchanges inland towns
he is known to have become lost.
 
remember: handlers prefer blondes,
mirrors are a portal:
know a monarch by its wings
 
[demon-possessed]
like a demented muppet
she paints.
{Photograph by Ludovic Bertron}

kitten

Ironic Wickedness

William Wallace DenslowFlip —  a simple mechanism in the Age of Paradox. When intuition leads to something odd or confounding — flip — & that is the line out. 
 
How is it that I come to accept the inevitability of failure and disappointment?   
 
The passive reluctance to re-reroute a negative line, all that chaos that bursts through during a meltdown is the logical end to exploration. 
It is an end to negative surrender. 
 
The martyr pulls itself off the cross & begins to take notes. 
 
So it is to be the Charge of the Lite Brigade, the first story I remember, the purity of subjective truth as weapon & fresh resolve of the naïve ones, those still expecting positive justice to serve as adequate armour
 
Flip
 
So now I feel frozen in dragon’s fire, a lack of pure integrity & transgressions against the Light tether; where is a pure heart?
 
So the prayer starts.
{Illustration by William Wallace Denslow}

Fresh Poetry ~ “SIMS© Unlimited”

Sue Clarkoffer a window into an unusual world:
passing through a stream of debris 
pushed to spark big openings
spread across the world through mass media,
available to all rational people
with worrying behaviour,
conditioned to advocate
life™ at lens point; the take, final cut, 
that aesthetic
a complete media frenzy.
 
as he promised
once hypnotized
the models obey any command
engage with what they are not saying…
 
then the wheels really begin turning:
are they seen in a mirror?
these pop-princesses 
all dancing, 
entirely consuming
for centuries
suspended
 
oblivion brought me here
for everything trapped 
within this glut of superfluous art,
covering wicked deeds 
aimed to set a sweet soul to flight,
the spiritual citizen 
in the noise of democracy is
kicking out garbage,
identifying blame
pushing through the fears 
too many signs
the cohesion is there, it just need 
not be so manhandled.
 
the price of purity is choice:
the red splat
{Illustration by Sue Clark}

Quotation from Northrop Frye

seier+seier‘If you are interested in writing poetry or a novel and haven’t got very far with it, you don’t like the idea of there being conventions and genres, or limitations of any kind on your capacity. So I used to get all kinds of anxieties about my not responding to the uniqueness of the work of art. And I would keep saying that uniqueness is not an object of knowledge. We never know the unique. The unique exists in experience only.’
– Northrop Frye
{Photograph by seier + seier}

Confessions: This Slight Purge

psyberartistSomewhat embarrassingly, I am extremely defensive & cynical. No system has encouraged a permanent loyalty, except this writing experiment. All available faith has been invested into this process.

These carefully tooled statements, present to the conscious mind a phrase which needs to be recorded. Intellectually, I expect to remember the language when later writing but this does not always pan out. I start recording fresh material onto lined recipe cards.

 So I am guilty of a unique brand of emotional revisionism, the complexity of interlocking systems of intuition. I have the notes to prove this.

Essentially, the reckless manner in which I have preserved the interests of my own heart is my responsibility. But how to insist on these considerations when the absence of them has driven all sensitivity wild with instinct?

A phasmagorical fantasy life, mythologizing failures, then freezing shortcoming into grotesque & tragic personality traits.

The Implosion of Anti-Effectiveness: The message might be the world is unfair. I shall perish to punish the Universe. Can this be only the result of some childish wish- fulfillment exploded into Destiny? Perhaps but more likely than not. 

Which myth shall lead to the self-rooting seed?

The antidote to the emotional hysteria accepted as inheritance is gratitude. The expanse of acceptance, then appreciation shall open the iris wide, to realize the counter-benefits of what could easily be accused of negative exclusion. My exploitation of this unique passage, in terms of deterring a mythology, does not jive with the frustrations vented when disclosing the perimeters of a challenging situation. 

 Like the parents I endlessly criticize, I am unable to get past the resentment of having my innocence compromised.

Love me this way, I scream.

 

{Photograph from psyberartist}