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ISDN - 2003-09-06 and upon request.
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Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
Content
heaps of cream - 6
[footnotes - patmos interview] - 22
albatrosses, bears and chickens - 25
page on page international - 49
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
A draft publication
[The Story of Helena and the Secret Pleasures
in the Palace of Joy]
dedication
I dedicate what is being written down here, on paper and what is infront
of your eyes, to the three Muzes who enslaved me in the year 1994, played
with me and proved, in that same year and the following, their power to
me while this True Story of My Life envolded in front of me on the screen
of my 486DX2 computer.
They are Maya Nuda, Maya Vestita and their elder sister, Nancy Muse, known
since the beginning of time as the most cruel and incisive of them all.
I also, secretly dedicate this to Hélena, the most beautiful girl
in the world.
the secret pleasures in the palace of joy
Innerlich hat zie beschlossen keinem Anderen
mehr zu zuhören
GOETHE, Wahlverwantschaften.
Hey, say, why did you make the impossible impossible?
SDUTTY
The black cat
The Black cat's too
been messing with Paint.
He's got White all over his fur.
Ying yang.
West east.
Read write.
Death life.
Yes the cat's playing a dicey game…. He'll
end up in the cemetery of the mighty
the Blue Piss Bünn graveyard
called Flanders.
Same as me.
1. At Hilvarenbeek the leaves fall
off
from the trees
it's a sunny afternoon no
cloud the trees
are wrong
it's a wrong season
for undressing look
at the sun feel the mistral
heat
no cloud see
the problem is advertising
and TV
advertising makes an idiot out of you
the ad said on TV
advertising
and TV
no cloud
Annie get your gun
silly Wallpaper
2. The dawning of age opens up
like Cyberspace
unexpectedly early say at
4.35 AM
or even earlier say
the same time as the truck
in the poem on page 98
hassled the neighbours
that early no need for rain
etc.
just watch Space
just watch the Dark Blooms
on the surface of Blackwater river
no need for rain
etc.
Cyberspace is Space enough
for everybody
3. Working through the night dreaming rain wet
sweat water Love poems poems related to the
Opera House Lodge Café somewhere
backstage Vienna another life Valentine
winter spring summer autumn
rain
subversive thoughts authentic Passions Joyce
James sure waiting behind the doors shoes
dreams writing poems landslides roofs
shoes numbers room numbers upstairs
sky
don't read what you don't write
slippery mud slices slippery slices
slipping under feet Macintoshes more
rain more steep rain poems
my many poems on floppy disks
on CD-ROMs
wait! wait! wait! open the door
who's behind that door door door
do you hear hear hear the echo echo?
people notice poems everyday when
I write
poems everyday deconstructing poems
writing
people write about poems filamentary writings
signs of the Zodiac Sagittarius Virgo
Wassermann fire earth water breath and men
people many people Northerners
Southerners United East Indian
Companies
they write about poems my many
poems
they read about poems my many
poems
they read naughty things in poems very naughty
things in my poems naughty things with married
women children Muses of Dark Pools death
poisonous life lies lies lies lies lies
wait! wait! wait! open the door
who's behind that door door door
illicit Love contagious Love
the anatomy of Unlove cacophony
Maestro's Maîtres d'Hotel
who? who? who?
it's a dream it's in a dream rain wet
water doves poems poems blinds mazes
sky mud slippery mud slices slippery slices
slipping feet slippery mud rain
feet shoes
Wellies walk write over newly facelifted poems
4. She went into the foyer walked through the hall
into the bar no winter Opera Ball this year
she walked out through the door again write
into the rain write onto the slippery terrace
do I know her? someone in disguise?
she smiled a hint a promise a dagger
come she enticed no I said no but
went to her with a Flower
oh Lucia Australopithecus erectus
mother of Anthropoid what
do you want?
people write about poems she whispered
your poems coccyx people read poems
your poems
the composer makes use of contrapuntal
devices poems your drafts oops
she slipped on the mud tumbled backwards fell
over the slippery slope slipping over the crevice
deep into the Dark Pool into the murky water
of the Blackwater river
poems doors rivers torrents of water listen
to the cacophony Maestro's and Maîtres d'Hotel
who is the Proprietor?
it's a dream it's in a dream rain wet water
drawling
Spirits in Jericho damp lands of Death
oceans poems backstages lies lies lies behind Venial
closed doors mazes sky mud slippery mud slices
her dress her head her legs ooh
what beautiful legs thighs feet
5. At Blackwater's bridge there's White
paint in the muddy water there's some
Blackwater Stories
floating on and in the water upside down
faces down
muddy stories they're not drowned because
you can see their little hands reaching
into the Deep
brushing tickling teasing the huge ankles
of the mud walkers of the bridge his feet he is
standing on feet in the water
wet shoes
they're tickling up his skirt
smearing dirtying painting
higher and higher
up
his drake's shins
6. Garçons came out onto the slippery porch
out into the rain the Music has stopped feet
slipped when trying walking slipping towards
backslaps mud slides women falling women
Maîtres d' Hotel smiled Maestro's mimicked
members of Orchestra's slipping out of their roles
laughing grinning like horses like gofers
like garçons remarks the kinds of poems
Wallpaper oops
down into dirty Pools down
over backslaps slopes
down into the slurry
down into Blackwater river
don't look smart oops
down
cacophony the Maestro's Maîtres d'Hotel
closed doors imprisonment Kay se Ra se Ra
it's a dream
it's in a dream rain wet water Love poems
poems blinds mazes backstages rooms
shoes numbers lies lies lies sky
mud slippery mud slices oops
down over the slippery backslaps slope
slipping disappearing rolling falling
down into deep dark Pools yelling
poems drafts scrolling Spaces
reading poems oops writing
poems oops
Northerners Westerners East Enders Youth Opera
I want to go South I want to leave the Tempest storm
Lucia why were you born in acrid land?
Myrrhina why do you want to flee
the Bridal bed?
down into Pools slipping into Pools
slipping on mud slippery mud
slices
grey White hairs
age rain
digging Dungeons
sky mud steep rain wind
Hurricanes
things poems things with/about
married women children abductions
theft
efficient killings
lies lies lies lies lies
poems
wait! wait! wait! open the door
she's behind that door door door
oops down
Labyrinths creatures rivers water
Blackwater rivers Dark Pools murky
muddy slurry waters laughing shouting
Opera Lodge noises deathly voices
dangerous edges little girls
poems oops and oops
and oops
and oops
oops
down one by one shouting calling Day
of Deliverance
grey murky mud mud things with
women sky rain thunder
your poems oops your
poems oops
down the mud slides down the backslaps
slopes
down the crevices things with married
Muses black cats
lies lies lies lies lies
poems
wait! wait! wait! open the door
oh behind that door door door
down oops write down to the bottom
of the Pool
down into Blackwater river
down into Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
arms legs bags Paint
oops I
Sdutty
wait! wait! wait! open the door
behind that door door door
do you hear the echo echo echo?
down
down the slope
down over the crevice
some poems slipped first
slow then all my poems slipped fast
down oops my poems
oops
down the slippery backslaps slope
down into the White Fangs into the Black
muck of the famous Blackwater river
ohh my poems my poems my poems
7. A man sitting waiting daily in a Mercedes Benz
watching wonderingas the ferry crossed the black
water
of Blackwater river
daily he stared at a small girl passing
crossing on her way to the Art School
carrying her paint brushes sketch
books sandwiches taking the boat
across the murky water of Blackwater river
daily when she passed the man puts his hand
in his trousers touching his underpants
stroking his underbelly looking
at the ferry crossing
the slurry of Blackwater river the dark
dark Blue dirty water of Blackwater river
he never noticed that no one noticed
the Art school girl as she crosses
the murky water
as she crossed alone always alone
carrying Paint brushes sketch books
sandwiches some of my poems
8. Painters and poets went up to the Opera Lodge
overlooking Blackwater river hearing Giordano
they drank
anything just to be able to avoid reading
each others writing
lot's of people came none of 'em
has ever read any of my poems
all stayed safely on top
of the wet porch write
in the rain waiting
drinking hearing
refusing
reading writing Wallpaper
why has nobody no body ever read any of my
poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me? why
do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body ever heard about
Suzy Wong and The Palace of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge Café? the
Swiss Farm Lodge? why? why? why? is the Blackwater river's water so murky?
why is there paint in the water? why is it raining so much? why? where
have all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf Club Page 5? why
has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems
why? why? why does nobody no body like Wallpaper? why does nobody no body
join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel Roads? Sample
Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why? why
has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
have to write my own poems? have to write poems?
9. Painting lanes keeping up the quality of
tarmac
writing Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
doing work
rain mud Operas etceteras.
Bernstein a Jew came in
10. He came in via the E41 from the South
he came in just like that
into this poem
into the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
just like that
he came in and went straight for
Blackwater bridge
11. A young woman 40 there's an old man of
say 47
he's contacting her she wears
silver rings on all her fingers
her hands came on strong ohh
he said to her
before we go somewhere else let me
I'll have to go put on some other shoes
see my feet are killing me
these shoes slip see
ohh I thought
what do you care about sweaty slippery
shoes feet things like that
fool
12. Slipping sleeping dancing going to the Opera
another Painter's wife dreaming a Muse
that's what's done
that's what done when you do done
when you write Wallpaper that's what's wrong
say when: the enticing of the Muse
13. Philanderer Smattering Hugga Hugga
bunch of Love naughty Love slipping on mud
the Black Pool Blackwater scrolling White on Blue
that's what's done
that's what's done Red Queen hypothesis
you'll get punished for that oh yes
for punishment see you read
your own Paper for punishment see
you'll get put off Wallpaper
Bernstein said holding out rulers
for measuring lengths of poems
Paper poems and he said
we'll have to change Staff the Name
you know
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
change habits change habits
change 'em when they're getting ripe
stop with Shipwrecking cut Sdutty
that sort of thing you know what I mean
this business of illicitness the other
stories shoes you saw what happened
at the Grand Finale people slipping over
the back drop get other poem writers
to write poems get other kinds of cloths for
the Wall use varnish nobody can write
on varnish new rules make the Paper
Tabula Rasa etc.
that'll teach you sure Berchta'll get you
14. Into the slurry into waters of Blackwater rivers
into dungeons deep
into Pools torrents of water
into holes
into the earth
into tunnels underneath
the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
down the stream everyone with a loved one
in cosy gondola's drifting
towards Blackwater's bridge
wait your turn Clowns aux masques
wait your turn La charmeuze de serpents
a door open Asgard Midgard join
she came in
she came into the waiting hall
stark naked beautiful
ohh so beautiful
so young so Cry for me Argentina so young
her eyes she went to the first Painter
on the first row gave herself to him while
looking
me in the eye ohh
I got into a gondola clutching a new shift
a very soft tender little girlish poem oh so
tight (this in brackets)
and started drifting towards Blackwater bridge
all by myself forgetting about Bernstein
15. Sleeping awakening painting tarmac a man's job
doodling mile after mile straight line miles going
going for a goal for a change leaving the Opera
going Beltis speaking to
Bifröst
leaving women
going home painting going South Sunrises
The Valley of Beaux a man's job's
not a poet's job
sure? sure?
sure after you smile first
please smile
sure after a going to Mooney skies
smile
sure?
Adam and Eve sure even going on the air
broadcasting poems whispering
sweet words light breezes in your ear
whispering
readable and write enabled poems
and all that
sure that sure that Love birds fly Manturna
sure that sure that sure that years of Stallions dawn
ever saw a Love bird fly? Cats messing with paint?
People falling off edges? Grand finales water?
not me I haven't thing is:
it's a me and a you
and a me a moving towards a you
to a me? (smile brackets)
yes ahh to a you to a quick Mrs. Quick-a -Quickie
to a you yes ash as quick as the sounds of Wallpaper
as quick as ringing rooms with doors shut Opera
doors open
as a quick as you can unzip contaminated files
containing poems a half of say 1000 of my poems
16. In all all in all
you can do that? that quick?
you with your Hypofese and the coming
of Oxytocine?
yes sure I can I can can do that that
chop-chop I can can an' all the way away
man oh man woman and woman I can
move a towards you so quick you won't
believe it that an' a more much more
more quick more when I feel like it
I can even make you mix the paint Julia Romea
make you go back to your prehistoric origins
of Nomadic life make you bend your knees
make you enter holy water land
with me
17. There were painters and poets there they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix nobody
no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace of Joy where Suzy Wong
and I the little girl from the Art school she has to cross the Black River
at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body never
have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge
Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why? why? why? is the Blackwater River's
water so murky? why is there paint in the water? why it raining so much?
why? where has all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf Club Page
5? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no
body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems why? why? why does nobody no body likes Wallpaper? why does nobody
no body join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel Roads?
Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix and wait under a Christmas tree
they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue
wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body
was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix
all my poems are read anyway why should I bother
to write 'em?
they're deaf
you know why? all poems are written
anyhow always before and so on
they are mute that's why
there were painters and poets there they talked
and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested
in the paint I mix nobody no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace
of Joy where Suzy Wong and I the little girl from the Art school she has
to cross the Black River at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body never have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace
of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why?
why? why? is the Blackwater River's water so murky? why is there paint
in the water? why it raining so much? why? where has all the flowers gone?
into Santa Christiana Golf Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever read
any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems for
me? why do I have to write my own poems why? why? why does nobody no body
likes Wallpaper? why does nobody no body join Municipal Paint Sections?
why? why? why? take Gravel Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings?
Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why? why has nobody no body ever read any of
my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me? why
do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body ever read any
of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me?
why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body ever read
any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems for
me? they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix
silly Santa Christiana D'Aro Golf Club Page
5 style same and same
and
over and over again
that's why they are mute that's why
18. do you hear me?
do what everybody does read old stuff used
up stuff
worthless poems
that stuff
read Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
by Sdutty
read my poems
read read 'em read all my poems all of 'em!
everybody does that
from Monday to next Monday they
don't work they read all my deaf and dumb poems
from Monday to next Monday I write poems I don't
work either I write deaf and dumb poems
why do I do that? why do they do that?
I ask myself that
why do you do that? lies
sky mud slippery mud slices
Bernstein
I don't know why I say to myself all poems
are read
anyway before you write them anyway I say
to myself
anyway they are deaf
you know why? all poems are written anyway
etc.
they are mute that's why
the loop in this poem doesn't come write
I don't know why I say to myself I say
all poems are read anyway before you write them
anyway I say they are deaf
does it matter?
you know why?
all poems are writ anyway etc.
they are mute that's why no it doesn't
the loop in this poem doesn't come write
Kings and Queens Opera and Passion
Women and Men I don't know why I say
to myself
all poems are read anyway
before you write them away
on a floppy they are deaf
you know why?
all poems are writ anyway etc.
they are mute that's why
the loop in this poem loops write wrong but
say
can you tell me who invented Valentine in 1415?
it wasn't Bishop Valentinius in 269 was it?
was he a theologian?
was he looping verses like me?
doesn't matter end this poem!
19. And/or is it the Paint? do I paint poems? how
can I paint poems? Paint poems in Municipal Paint
Opera House Lodge Café? draw lines on tarmac? there's
no staff left Bernstein cut staff as I knew he would
Canio warned me about that not long time ago
he warned me not to get too close to Nedda
Un tal gioco credetemi he had said
what do you know about poems?
look at your own Café poems
look at the mud on the marble Paint
poems
running a Lodge you're nothing but
a Municipal worker doing time sinking
Hebrus
Ruggierro Leoncavallo was never in here
he had said you were a bloody liar man the man
died in the echo year 1919
see
poems you? see Paint poems you?
trying to get away with it man poems
contain words not Paint
anyway
all poems are writ
anyway
they are mute see
20. there were painters and poets there they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix nobody
no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace of Joy where Suzy Wong
and I the little girl from the Art school she has to cross the Black River
at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body never
have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge
Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why? why? why? is the Blackwater River's
water so murky? why is there paint in the water? why is it raining so
much? why? where has all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf
Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does
nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write
my own poems why? why? why does nobody no body likes Wallpaper? why does
nobody no body join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel
Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam?
why? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix
poems are deaf maybe both of us are deaf the
way
we shout he said we shouldn't waste time this way
from Monday to next Monday times I like it though
I said when women fight about my poems fighting
each other stating claims to be Musesssss
oh the Terrible Wonderful Fools their legs
oops
21. Paint poems Black as tarmac nobody can read
darkened poems them dem too bark too buddy bark
nobody can read underneath the surface:
Tonio's got the say
the Northern sky's grey
the Southern sky's bright
Si puo Signore! Signori!
Scutsatemi se solo mi presento
io sono il Prologo
Poiche in iscena ancor le antiche maschere
mette l' autore
in parte ei vuol riprendere levechie usanze
e a voi di nuovoinviami
Ma non per dirvi como pria:
Sagittarius
Le lagime che noi versiam son false:
degli spasmi e dei nostre martir non
allrmatevi!
Capricorn
no copyright he said and coughed
and thought about Virgins
Virgo
22. Paint poems Blue as blue as Deep Water as sky
as Blue Earth nobody can read Wallpaper underneath
the surface
them 'em ducks and geese
not in water
don't be afraid for Fafnir Midgardsormr be
afraid
of the Prison of Silence
23. White? paint poems White as straight surfaces
Doctor Zhivago Lara's theme cerebral lines?
no I was won't don't do that was no I won't
paint poems White as snow in Movies that's
ridiculous Vesti la giubba Paper is White
White poems on White Paper
that will never work nobody can read White
on White
even when you are dogged do read
White on White that's no Wallpaper
no I don't do that
I am not stupid Pierrot donnant une aubade a la lune!
24. But anyway it is a long story
it started with the festival Lupercalia
down South the 14 th of February
North got infected Aids Pest Cancer
Death Ebola East West Love Lada
Genocide Digital Fix Short cuts Hogs'
ways Microlasers Magnifications
- 21st Century try it -
3 Messengers arrived there
was a King
he killed all 3 of them without mercy
because
he had other plans
the Aphrodite Love Palace was his plan
and he started on his own to open doors
first one door
then all of the doors also Opera doors
letting Numenosa free
he started on Wallpaper nobody
was supposed to know
that's how I got involved: I knew
I zipped the poems with Passwords
I discovered the Welt im Kopf
the Bermuda Triangle deathtrap
further and more:
I got involved with Sadé
with Egon Montorgucil and
Tom
of Finland
and so on and the other Love Palace
Cypria nobody knew
Mrs. Nobody
oh Translutioned Transparencies
doesn't exist doesn't matter I know
but
lies lies lies lies and Maja nuda
and her sister Maja vestita and
their bigger sister Nancy Muse
it was very secret and
(to get back to poems) the sky
was as clear as Hilvarenbeek's skies
when I'm there
families were together
husbands were husbands
wives were poems were poems
evenings were for happiness for readers
and workers came home at night
got their pills Erotica Universalis
books like my books still existed
were not even on Cyberspace
CD-ROM's Networks WWW yet
it was nice quiet peaceful only
shilly-shally poems circulated
there was no Opera big questions water
Blackwater rivers no mud under shoes
no slipping
no Shakespeare Freud
Inter-subjectivity
Inter-textuality
no money
no Heideggerian walk-abouts
no Derrida
no something else
only anythings disinfected Fashion wear
Joggings Dark collars Dark Legions
Adidas shoes
ohh it was 17 going onto 18 never to get to
19
and oh Paper on the Wall
and oh Sign on Wall Women call
Children Muses of Dark Pools
poisonous B1ody Art
Love Life
lies lies lies lies lies
wait! wait! wait! open the door
who's behind that door door door
illicit Love contagious Love
the anatomy of Unlove
cacophony
Maestro's Maîtres d'Hotel
and oh Paper
oh Wall Flower Sign on the Wall
and the very beautiful beautiful soft women
married women their children small girls
Majestic mistresses playing in the rain
all was set perfect setting a long Story
Turubian setting Lightwave transmissions
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Cafés
Zodiacs Stars Aquarius
Sagittarius Virgo
Ram Scorpio Taurus Unicorn
Apophis
Snakes
how do you like this poem?
whether I like it? no I don't like it
(White on white) I should have left it in its first draft
what do I care? I don't write poems for people to like them
I write poems for people to read them
I don't read poems never no yes no
I don't waste my time with poems
White paper stupid poems this kind
of poems see
it's not worth it nobody reads
poems like these all poems like these do
are taking up Spaces Pages
nobody wants to know about Kings and Palaces
see
White? paint poems White as straight surfaces
Doctor Zhivago Lara's themes
no I was won't do that no
I won't paint poems White as snow
oh Translutioned Transparencies
lies lies lies lies poems
it started
with the festival Lupercalia down South
the 14 th of February
there was a King 2 Queens
one from the South one from the North
some castration etc.
but I have said that
haven't I the loop of the verse
anyway
25. Scrolling blue Space that's nothing something
White letters on blue Space that's poetry
it scrolls like roads deep into tarmac Black
infinity sure that's poetry
Helena the most beautiful woman
Vigilante Dante paper Page filling poems
you can say that's OK by me
you can say you're the same as me
that's OK by me only difference
I am more me than you are me
Maestro Municipal Paint Opera
Lodge Café say
you're only in my Café
because I allow you in it allow you
at my table allow you to sip Glue Wine
allow you to touch my Walls
you see Un di all' azzurro spazio oops
Myrrhina don't go from me
I say who goes where mud on what shoes
Stories
I say how many times
I sleep with the same Zodiac sign
Olivia Newton
Johnstone
I say what Paper which Wall
which design oh don't go from me Notty
please stay Alices of Wonderlands
oh Roucher take this poem take money
take Paper go to her succumb to her heart
bring Maddalena to my door
open the door
the iron gate Ulster and Armagh
oh there are Flowers on the table
there are Roses in the vase
there are little girls waiting
at the crossing
Eurydice Tu sé morta
Cu Chulainn who screwed
your name again
Deidre and Noaise
do this for me Roucher
and
you can stay
in Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
till the last Page
stay Sisters of Mercy
26. On the tarmac on the sly of the terrace Bernstein's
sister Gertrude Stein 'n Violetta 'n the lost one
Sibol 'n Charlotte wait on the steps
who comes in?
who comes into the Barn?
who unlocks?
who stays?
who goes?
who went?
who goons?
who bye's?
who is in the Foyer?
who is in my Lodge?
who are the dream people?
Andrea Chénier? his Boss?
Verdi's group with Alfredo Germont?
tutto él follia nel monde cio che non
é piacer
godiam fugace e rapido é il gaudio dell' amore
who jumps from century to century like a child
a girl?
Norwegian girl?
who says hi?
Mrs. Sexton?
Nancy?
Mary-Ann?
who?
(who is in my poem?)
OK take it then:
kiss a suicide note leave it at the reception inhale
voice something Blue go to the H.B.Thom
expect N.P.van.Wijk Louw
three frames on the window
a Seagull against the wind
ohh ora souave
go stay go for good read
final claims of Wallpapers
go stay go for good write
final claims of Wallpapers
Queen and Queen's wives' lovers
mistresses butchers Plural or Genitive
darlings of famous writer
Sdutty
go stay go for good read
final claims of Wallpaper
go stay go for good write
final claims of Wallpapers
who are the Enemies of the Nation?
ohh but you know you know
listen to me! listen to me!
This is an old fable:
The Citizens of our Nation still believe it
Phooey born in Constantinople? Strange!
Studied in Saint-Cyr? Soldier? Maestro?
Traitor! A bloody poet! A Wallpaper man!
A Sovvertitor di cuori e di costumi
Once it was my pleasure to challenge
Hatred and revenge to love purity innocence
Strength! A Master of Wallpaper you called me
once
No I am still your slave No I am now slave
to passion
Worst! I kill and shiver as I kill
I cry!
I Maestro of Wallpaper Maître d'hôte
I was first!
I heard the call of the sky!
I invented mutual understanding!
I castled my fate over the slope I!
Did my belief in openness disappear?
Oh how my glory shone!
To awaken again the consciousness
of my readers
To conquer hearts women's hearts
ohh!
To gather the tears of my admirers!
Good readers! Good people!
(what about copyright?)
To make this world a Pantheon!
To change people into Lovers of my Wall!
To 'embrace you all with one kiss
on a Piece of Poem!
hey Gerard! hey that's enough
get off the Stage let the people come in
first see the rain's coming to come down mud
and sky slippery feet
get them in! get them in first
you weren't talking about me
were you? Fool I am against that!
ask everybody!
I don't go for strange women!
married women Muses Black cats
White Paint
it's all lies lies lies they tell lies lies
27. Which is better? this one?
oh torrid fatally wounded Capricorn
oh cruel ferocious roar of the Lion
his claw the purity of Virgo
Earth the killing with one secured blow
why you innocent creature why
were you so happy
and shy why
did you enter the deep Dark Pool
didn't you know that's where intruders
die scorched by the Fire of desire
Heaven
didn't you know that was the domain
of Love
the den of poisonous venom
the inner chamber
of the Muse
oh what is stronger Love or Love
oh what is weaker Kings or Queens
28. Or this one?
oh torrid fatally wounded Capricorn
oh cruel ferocious roar of the Lion
his claw the purity of Virgo
Earth the killing with one secured blow
why you innocent creature why
were you so happy and shy why
did you enter the deep Dark Pool
didn't you know that's where intruders
die scorched by the Fire of desire
didn't you know that was the domain
of Love
the den of poisonous venom
the inner chamber
of the Muse
oh Stranger Love oh perilous Game
oh Noble Hunter oh precious Prey
which one shall I use for Valentine?
another one?
29. OK then the next one
Her style her red lips the Opera Lodge Café
poems kissings
that poem this poem
think of that that's nicer
this poem
there's no trouble in this poem
no Stories
nothing
's a man's pleasure 's a matter
of fact
clear cut water
no Paint
a woman sure but this time it
doesn't matter
this time she is safe
30. Or Zen?
3 half blind Mice 1
a window
Raam
one sees one meter
one sees three and a half
one thirty four
water sinks into acrid land
Earth no Flower
water goes to the sun
Fire Icarus
water boils tears on acrid land
Air
Flower starts to bloom
Or none?
31. Always when you are busy doing getting
going trying to poem nice poems
Fata's morgana Vagina's dentata Fata's
farts
higher into high high into high Space
drifting
water drifting towards Blackwater's
bridge
yes
doing going getting paint it's
a hard tarmac much going away
always
Mit den Füsschen tapp tapp tapp
Mit den Händen klapp klapp klapp
Einmal hin einmal her
Rund herum es ist nicht schwer
from everything you know
going doing getting Paint
White Paint Blue Space
tarmac faces waiting faces
Black faces Blue background
tarmac Black White letters
Ei das hast du gut gemacht
Ei das hätt' ich nicht gedacht
Seht mir doch den Hänsel an
Wie der tansen kann
Mit dem Köpfchen nick nick nick
mit dem Fingerchen tick tick tick
Einmal hin einmal her
Rund herum es ist nicht schwer
always
32. The Paper the blue Space poems are what you see
when you look at them on tarmac
all poems are flattened
on tarmac there's no point
in trying to read them
no guiding line painted
on them
just
there were painters and poets there they talked
and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested
in the paint I mix nobody no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace
of Joy where Suzy Wong and I the little girl from the Art school she has
to cross the Black River at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body never have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace
of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why?
why? why? is the Backwater River's water so murky? why is there paint
in the water? why is it raining so much? why? where has all the flowers
gone? into Santa Christina Golf Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems why? why? why does nobody
no body likes Wallpaper? why does nobody no body join Municipal Paint
Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads?
Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and
they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and
nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix
see:
no guiding line painted on them
just
plain highway Space straight as a die nada
White
line on the Blue of the Black face of the road
no echo no radar no nothing
something
33. Tell you what you do go
outside
take Paint White or Blue
doesn't matter
paint doodles on the tarmac
Black make faces stare at you
call your poems Doodle Poems
I'll use 'em on the walls of my
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
the good ones
the other ones I won't throw 'em
in Blackwater river
say Black Blue White? why BBW?
the colours of flags of somethings?
of somethings nothings?
yes that's it! it's flags!
haven't you noticed the entrance to
the Muddy Water's Café Opera Lodge?
the Opera House?
you haven't have you? no?
OK so I haven't worked that one out yet
have I?
hey you can't write poems like these
'n coin 'em as poems there are rules
for poetry you know!
Evita Peron
that's what I mean see?
Black Blue White
oh really!
come on what's with this Black Blue White
any-
way?
train?
readers make the rules!
that's what I say
oh yes?
sure?
34. She was 14 and she told me:
I drank something bad an' it messed up my tummy
an' my mummy said I had to go to the fixy-clinic
an' in the clinicy
they gave me stiffy painty stuffy
that tasty like mud an annexidoties
they washed away the slurry
an' it was bad an' my mummy
said
I may never go out with the boys again they're
naughty they givy you thingy to drinky
stuff that messy up tummy
my mummy said that
there was also a man at the ferry
she said
35. Three gily girly girls young ones seventeen
yeary old ones
came knocking at my door
open! open! open!
with sweet teenage voices
hide us! hide us! hide us!
they called
quick! quick! quick! under the table
under the chair in the cubboard into my hair
grey hair
don't make a mistake
this is no Surrealistic poemy I Haiti Surrealisy
no Escapy no love Medusa Love
anyway
thank you! thank you! thank you!
poem us a poem no! but I reach
into high Space
open the tarmac Black open Bogy Road
them this one men
They danced to the beat of New Wave they danced
to the beat of the shouting crowd god what a
shoe poem
their chanting mesmerised the members
of the opposite sex
they looked the split image of one another
all four of them they were wearing green shorts
green jumpers
green
nail varnish matching
their pre ponderous identities
hurting chanting and with the same topaz skin
the same malformed limbs making
the same amatory gestures
and
malignantly ameliorating
they're waiting
their turn
oh! oh oh! this is not a nice poem
there are 4 girls in it we are just 3
I know I say but I am to hurt today
I cannot come up with anything else
oh! oh oh! then they hide me
under the table under the chair in the cupboard
into their hair Pubic hair their beautiful
Blond Black Blue hair
quick! quick! quick!
36. See your poems re not original they are Pages
of poems
of nothing
they come out of other books
here and there there's no Opera
sure?
sure except the one you are living in
in your brain no train
to take you to the station
station?
37. there were painters and poets there they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix nobody
no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace of Joy where Suzy Wong
and I the little girl from the Art school she has to cross the Black River
at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body never
have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge
Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why? why? why? is the Backwater River's
water so murky? why is there paint in the water? why is it raining so
much? why? where has all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf
Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does
nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write
my own poems why? why? why does nobody no body likes Wallpaper? why does
nobody no body join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel
Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam?
why? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix
38. Cyberspace and Water and that's all your poems
have they haven't got the 'em the necessary banners
the 'em not enough Proof-readers the men
'em not enough
Readers
burials hotel rooms see
come on tell me what's with this
Black Blue White any-
way?
train?
your poems are triéste Comedia
Comedia a trioir ...
PS.
no other matter matters you mix the Paint
I paint the tarmac no other role
no
other original nose!
what we are we are all what are are all
those Opera gofers
what are they doing in here?
Ceci n'est pas un Magritte!
oh talking uprooted poems?
not original!
oh come on!
and
even
if
they're
too short
and/or too long
and
one never gets the hang of 'em
it
doesn't matter
hurry mix!
39. Pages and Pages of poems who read
Pages and Pages of poems?
who?
who goes on tarmac when the Paint's
still wet ?
who?
nobody!
it's silly to do that very silly
your poems are silly by the ways way
it's 10 o'clock
's fighting time
stuff slippery sliding riding going
down
etc.
Roller Coaster ride Fighting time
En Garde! En Garde Surrealism
The Pearl from Paarl sour Grapes
from Wellington
Enricques Granados' trés Tablo's
four months of connubial nights
La maja y el ruisenor Paquiro and
Fernando the Dark Pool the Muse
oh Valentino Rosario
oh Jingle Bells
moi je suis mort ...
shut up mix!
40. Rubbish your poems are rubbish
to call the batch a Spade Spade Municipal
Paint Spade Lodge Spades Café
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café's
the same drum as Belim Tower Drummer Boy
it's Christmas again again
Kodo Kodo Kodo beat the drum
echo the Hearts of Mothers
beat on the ears of Foetus'
shifts poems mothers Muses lovers
you are floating on Sentimental Music
again
again while doing tarmac
you mustn't do it do it
Princes of Valentine
Love and Hate
King and Queen
Quadiangles
Scarlet O'Hara
Eduardo Ottilie
oh Love hurts
oh poems poems
my poems
Sea poems
Patmos Island Sea Poems
Necro Poetica
Santa Margarita Gold Coast
Ben GP The Man with the Iron Mask
Me
H.C. Bosman Sdutty
Samson and Delilah
Hettie Smit
Elizabeth
Bah they're all the same
Bah the same drum as the drum
of every daily drum buddy ding all
Opera train plane rain Spain no
women no intermezzo
no write no read
mud
nobody reads anything you write
who read anything you wrote?
who reads?
rubbish your poems are rubbish to call
the batch a Spade a Spade my nose
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Spades
sweat stinks shoes smell love doesn't hurt
the same drum as Bogy Road
well you remember?
Bogy Road? what was that?
Bogy Road was it a road
or was he a person?
the same with Gravel Road
the same as rubbish
your poems are rubbish
Gravel Mucus
Christiana d' Aro Golf Club Page 5
was rubbish
see what I mean?
41. At Blackwater's bridge there's
White Paint in the muddy water
there are some Blackwater Stories
floating on/in the mud Stories
mixing
with Paint
houses lawns swimming pools
the people the ordinary people
beautiful women Irene Irene
Orthodox Irene their legs ohh
her legs ohh
the two garçons the Maestro
the Box Man
the Maître d'Hotel
Sdutty
his poems my poems
they mingle with the Stories
turning Blue Blue faces
upsides downsides
crawling cats fast horses cattle
raids Cooley McQueen Jonathan King
Aquamarine eyes close your eyes people
shifting Moons whisperings in your ears
sweet talk
no but not drowned
the little Sisters are not drowned
their hands reach into the deep
dark muddy Pools
brushing tickling enticing
nail varnishing waiting for Godot
telling Continental Stories
little maidens masturbating brushing
tickling huge ankles of mud walkers of bridges
feet ankles tickling up skirts
smearing White Paint
higher and higher
up
inviting thighs
a preppie?
let me get my breath!
42. Do draw do
paint
do go do draw parking Spaces
for all your poems
don't put up meters
they don't need meters
they'll be parked there for a long time
you can't afford the fee
anyway
of course
but
argue
somebody
else can do the job say you're tired of writing
say you are working on other preppies
say you want to go home
say you're in love
say she's waiting behind the door
open the door
say anything
say something
came up something
that needs poeming faster
s
ay you only trash up the road
with Paint say you are colour blind
say you don't know whether Blue's better n White
on Black tarmac roads
say you're washed down to Blackwater's
bridge yourself
say oh
say ash
say it always takes so long to make the point
it always takes so very long
43. She came off age 12 years old tender
poem fragile love poem halloo Love
you came in through the door?
did you?
I am the Landlord Opera Lord
André Chenier and so on see
Mocking bird wish me luck
bye bye Blues
I am the Landlord Opera Lord
in here you kiss my feet
kiss kiss
now you kiss my cheek
kiss kiss
no! no! I didn't mean that!
you shouldn't have done that!
kiss my cheek see I am the Proprietor
I can't change
my mind just like that!
anyway say yes
I was just kidding come have
a Liqueur Chocolate
I'm a Proprietor's left bum
I know all the women laugh at me
(they fight about my poems though)
ohh their legs
oops
44. Watching Water while painting tarmac
there's rain everywhere
where can I go?
It's wet everywhere oh
Funerary Archaeology wet
Waterworks why did I get into
this?
and oh what virus corrupted
my stolen Doom 2 *.wad file copy?
45. You can't form your own Plurals
by rule you can't
women aren't like that
that's a rule
the rule is you can't do that
it's not allowed
there's no Space
for that not for your Plurals
in my poems
46. The Doodling on the tarmac afterwards
you can make out who'd done it
what women entered first
who's the Muse
who'd painted what the borders
what the laces and so
the lines the White lines
the lanes too even
who worked on the Pictures an' the Bitmaps
who the Gifs who removed the titties
ohh
who went with the Astronauts
who listened to the Wavs
Scale now I can see you coming down
the ladder now
and Windows are shut down
you can make out who'd messed with the Logs
who zipped Software you get
to know Suzy Wong
and the Palace of Joy
who registered there are rules
lastly who got into Nancy Carlson's Shareware
I did who entered the water of the Blackwater River
sure
that's the danger of Doodle Poetry
that's the danger of Wallpaper
it leaves marks on the Walls
47. What can he ride in? in the Alveolar Plosive Suffix
of laughed that's to say if he laughs at you
looked out the door! Open Grammar is coming
in from where it has been out there on the terrace
outside the fax is eating up your time it mimics
the noise of a telephone a call from the Opera Café
she's still waiting for the opening act
don't pick it up! don't pick it up!
Phone wait for the Paper to come
out
to come into your life
it's a poem Opera not a good one
who send poems per fax?
poems starting with
what can he ride in? in the etc.
48. Greenpeace walkers walk all over America
using highways getting attention going across
acid land singing Caucasian Red Skins song
make this poem look like it's a poem
you've written
for me
use it too in Municipal pre Paint prepping
Rehearsal
sure I'll do that I always do what I say
say when you ask me for instance
send me poems
I'll send you Wallpaper man I will lay so many
miles of scrolling onto you
Jules Verne's 10,000 miles poems
from the depths of the Earth you won't
believe it that many sure Wenn ich etwas will
dann will ich es und das sofort und viel davon
that many sure
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
by Sdutty's coming your way
it's nice isn't it?
a man with Caucasian Red Skins song
using highways getting attention
going across acrid land singing
49. All gone vitamins only really means
the vitamins are all gone but or
why Kitty can't stand up?
why Adam make tower?
?
50. There are rules you know don't laugh
don't laugh at rules
poem rules at the High Tarmac Opera
Paint School Lodge Café
nobody laughs at rules
you laughed?
no sir this Section of the Paint Section
doesn't allow laughing!
there were painters and poets there they talked
and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested
in the paint I mix nobody no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace
of Joy where Suzy Wong and I the little girl from the Art school she has
to cross the Black River at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body never have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace
of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why?
why? why? is the Blackwater River's water so murky? why is there paint
in the water? why is it raining so much? why? where has all the flowers
gone? into Santa Christiana Golf Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems why? why? why does nobody
no body likes Wallpaper? why does nobody no body join Municipal Paint
Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads?
Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body
ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my
poems for me? they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and
they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and
nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix
51. Page X Wugs
Wugs do not exist do they?
no they don't but they're fun
it's fun with them
I mean you have all day
to make fun with them when you
don't read when you don't paint
then yes Open Grammar
Wugs come home to roost on you
all day long they want you to read
poems for them of course you don't write
poems for them!
Wugs Wugs' skulls to long life
Wugs' skulls to my Paper
and Long Days and Redid Teddies
and good poems my good poems
my poems Wug's Sköl
52. She was 8 years old worn glasses Gretle
she pushed her little brother in a pram
up and forth
up and forth she went
on the shore sides of the lake
at Hilvarenbeek the little brother
smiled
there's water waiting
the Blackwater river's water
there's smudges of Paint
drifting towards the bridge
towards Blackwater's bridge
53. Hey Rossini going to the barber?
don't go you'll hear Stories there
Blackwater stories
La calunnia e un vennticello drafts
poems children under-
age children women
illicit affairs
oh it's only a light breeze
Sdutty poems are
the Muse her skirt went over her head
dress the Art School girl came
El il meschino caluniato avvilito calpestato
sotto il pubblico flagello per gran sorte va a crepar
don't go man stay we fetch Corky go back
to Catfish row talk to Gershwin make money
check Bernstein
There's a boat dat's leavin' soon
for New York oh Bess where is my Bess?
in a hotel room ground floor Paternoster?
upstairs Opera 202?
in the Foyer?
in the Lobby?
still no?
ground floor Library?
54. Thinking about it Municipal Waterworks Lodge
Paint Poems
're no good Pictures no good
looks blind Hoses secondhand Palms
Paper torn from various sets of preppy
poems vacant rooms no doors
used Wallpaper
you think so?
yes your poems are old poems poems
premedicated and 'emed before
how can you tell?
you can tell not enough
Esultate l'orgoglio musulmano
too much many poems are 'emed before
are worked with needles not enough
jealousy Black and White
murder on Blue sedans
yes?
yes not enough Desdemona's
oceans
yes yes you can tell
used Wallpaper torn off shit rewrittened
Drafts poems
no you cannot tell!
no single poem I have read is a poem
emed before
a pre-med prepoem
see you read!
no not that
doors poems
poems can't be pre-emed medded before
you haven't writ enough read
Ciris' father's a fool
read
no write
write
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Wallpaper
Poetry it's the anthology you are reading now
55. It's Opera stuff it goes through the ages
disperses in the air
it comes into my rooms
there's no woman in my rooms
I'm alone the water of Blackwater river
took 'em all 'em all
all of my Teddy Bears
all of 'em
56. They're waiting at the bridge My darlings
My Dear Darlings I am strong
Go on
Sit down
Libra Weegschaal Twins
Hurry sit down
I love thee I love thee Love
the room is Blue the paper
on the Wall is White
the night is Black
behind the curtain there's a door
it is shut
put down the phone
it's not a Human Voice speaking
do you always mean what you say?
never!
bye bye Poulenc
57. Thinking about it some more I certainly don't
want poems that had already been written I know
a lot of people
who don't want poems at all never go to the
Opera
never
come into Municpal Paint Opera Lodge Café
never
do anything no
pre-whitened poems propelled poems poems
that had been written by somebody else
I don't want that
or
Lufhanzaic Verses' and coffins or other weird
Verses or dead Flowers dead Butterflies
do you want propelled poems?
(already written stuff)
no
you can do nothing with written stuff
nobody can do anything with written stuff
Nanetta and Fenton's written stuff 's boring
Dal labro il canto Daljosafat Blue Train
all you can do with written stuff is read it
estasiato vola who wants to do that ?
read?
I certainly don't want to do that
do you want to do that?
read?
come be honest do you read?
do you read my Poiems Oiemps?
or have you just opened at this Page?
do you really think I didn't suspect it?
not even women read do they?
what do you mean?
Sexist?
no
nothing
I didn't mean that
I meant
a la Groupie
Purity of Heart is a joy for ever
a thing
I know nobody who likes to read
if you read you cannot write
who wants to read?
nobody see?
58. I am not Faust my name is Sdutty
It is easier to write than to read
anyway
nobody's going to spent time
reading nobody's going
to read number 5
sure?
man I am so sure of it you won't believe it
as sure as I am sure that you will be watching
the Blue skies tonight thinking about how
many people you know who read nobody
you'll be thinking about nobody
Mr. Nobody Mrs. Nobody
by the way Bernstein
he's from Austria isn't he?
59. There were painters and poets there they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix nobody
no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace of Joy where Suzy Wong
and I the little girl from the Art school she has to cross the Black River
at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge why has nobody no body ever
read any of my poems? why does nobody no body ever write any of my poems
for me? why do I have to write my own poems? why has nobody no body never
have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge
Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why? why? why? is the Blackwater river's
water so murky? why is there paint in the water? why is it raining so
much? why? where has all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf
Club Page 5? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does
nobody no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write
my own poems why? why? why does nobody no body likes Wallpaper? why does
nobody no body join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel
Roads? Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam?
why? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own
poems? why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody
no body ever write any of my poems for me? they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix
Bernstein's living in Austria sure he is
Vienna Third Man Prater
Big Wheel Oscar Wilde
60. Thinking about it some more more I'd done
read say a book
say a book someday say a book
called
Understanding Language
or was it
Transformational Grammar
or something else like that
a long time ago
one day
61. Thinking about it some more more more not
poems
not even deep Love and Hurt for a long time
poems
winter spring sombre autumn trees at waterfronts
Municipal Opera Café Lodge Paint Poems
Hilvarenbeek Years of Crabs Crayfish
Fish in general Boul a' Baize evenings
with Candle light suppers children upstairs
beginnings Awakenings beginnings
Mixed feeling Flowers on tables
knock it over
Blackwater slurry
mud rain
upsides down sides
women with Black Blue White
panties
legs ooh
I don't read poems
any poems
not my own poems
I am not stupid!
are you stupid?
I didn't think so twice
62. No no babe no
oh no
no
yes no
the beat is off
the bend is slight
the answer is no
no no
no
no one will notice no
one will no way
on the long tarmac
never
63. On an impulse out of the Blue
I picked a small White flower
gave it to her
watch her
smile while
taking it
from my Black shaky hand
64. Painters came in again Prissier Night
again thank god we're rid of our women
thank god the women discovered they could write
read each other's poems who wastes time with poems?
in the Harem 1782 was a good year nice abduction
didn't last long though O wie ängstlich O wie feurig
lots of Wallpaper lots of Municipal Painters
it's going to be a good Night again
without the Muses
girls from up town Maestro
bring on the stupid Christmas Glue wine
Valentine's nose what the hell
let's laugh
about it all and cry Cohen cry
about it all again sing Konstanze's song
Perry Como come lay your head
upon my pillow come Home
Little Fox do not stray
man she doesn't care the Paperback
the Moscow girls on my knee
Drink Brüderlein drink!
Die Stellenbosch se boys kom weer.
Martern aller Arten mögen meiner warten
Ich verlache Qual und Pein nichts soll mich
Erschüttrn nur dann würd' ich zittern wenn ich
Untrue könnte sein
hey Maitre
give Mo Zart a Vivat Beaches bring us all lots
of Vivats
Ha wie will ich triumphieren ha Pedrillo you give us
a song a Last Night of the Proms song Beer Garten Opera
House Municipal Paint Bacchanalian revelry
ohh man it's a great Night tonight
unders the skunders sky
Ein Mädchen hübsch und fein
sah Blue und White war Schwarz von Haar
Seufst Tag und Nacht und weinte gar
wollt gern erlöset sein
Da kam einer junger Rittermann
den jammerte das Mädchen sehr
Ha rief er wag ich Kopf und Ehr
wenn ich sie retten kann
Ha wie will ich triumphieren!
Innerlich hat zie entschlossen nie
wieder ein Ander zu zugehören!
cowing great Night hey Dutty Dutty you got
rid
of the framed Muses?
sure 'an my name's not Dutty it's Sdutty
OK OK I know that you liked 'em though
didn't you though? Sdutty Muses man
sure n they weren't Muses they were married
women Opera women they've got children
where're they now?
at the Opera
you're sure?
sure
what're they doing there?
they're waiting behind closed doors
oh I see but when are you going on?
now can't you see I am on?
65. Coming back off the Stage having an aching
back the same aching back
as the aching back in Santa Christiana
D'Aro Golf Club Page 5 rain
started coming in the same rain
as the rain in Sample Four
the corpses
in their graves started coughing
up from the damp
they started complaining
Resurrection Day man Resurrection Day
ought to come soon an old man of 47
with Pain alluvia his past
can't live forever you know
and there were other Stories too
let me tell you the story of how I came to
call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace of Joy this is really
the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel Lodge I owned that
Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the story of how I came
to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace of Joy this is
really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel Lodge I owned
that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the story of how
I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace of Joy
this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel Lodge
I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the story
of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago. let me tell you the
story of how I came to call my computer Suzy Wong and my company The Palace
of Joy this is really the story of Nancy Carlson and the Swiss Farm Hotel
Lodge I owned that Lodge and it was a long time ago and then I got interested
in Opera and went to live in Vienna Foreshore
coming back off the Stage having an aching
back the same
aching back as the aching back in Santa Christiana
D'Aro Golf Club Page 5 rain
started coming in the same rain
as the rain
in Sample Four the corpses
in their graves started coughing
up
from the damp
they started complaining
Resurrection Day man Resurrection Day
ought to come soon a young man of 74
with Joy alluvia his past can't die forever
you know
and there were other Stories too
66. I fell in love with Opera when I got out of the war
Punic Wars I started to write stopped reading
It was Nancy Nancy Carlson I started to write
to her Papers Pages poems
Letters Love
Kissing Phishes
Opera songs
Winter songs
Fall songs
Illicit Love songs
Hilvarenbeek songs
Beaches Eros Thanatos
***
67. Three Asterics three Flowers you read what I write
you love what I love you love
me I love you songs
OK I will tell you what I wrote
this is what I wrote:
Nancy dear Nancy I am sitting in The Swiss
Farm Lodge Hotel on the slopes of the French Hoek's Water Dept. Tunnel
Excavations the French Hoek's Slopes which is closest to the Pearl the
Crevises of Paarl than to the Sour grapes of Wellington the backwall slope
It is now or never a long time ago I am writing poems in front of a nice
Fire Passionate Passion Fire there are logs and logs of expensive wood
burning slowly the Fire the Fire burning into my longing soul the Fire
flaming my Ceaserian soul the Fire upping up feelings of dying summers
springs rains Fountainhead Ann Rand Hilvarenbeek trees rivers of joy children
under age married women dear Nancy dear Nancy do you remember me? it was
a long time ago Cliff Richard 40 days to go I wrote very long very long
do you remember me? do you remember you? that night in the back of the
bus nobody noticed us
68. She came in not
on the E41 but through Cyberspace
hi she said why are you lying?
how do you know I'm lying?
I know
she came over ohh
Nancy! Nancy! I shouted
she kisses me then immediately
starts woman flirting ohh nice with
her head with her Blue face
her Black mouth her White tongue
ooh I said
yes you're lying she says
this wasn't written in the The Swiss Farm Lodge Hotel on the slopes of
the French Hoek's water Dept. Tunnel Excavations the French Hoek's Slopes
which is closest to the Pearl of Paarl the Crevices of Paarl and the the
Sour grapes of Wellington this was written in Belgium in the Piss Bünn
Flaenders Horseshoe Valley Holiday Inn
why do you lie?
that way anyway I am sorry I said
all I do lately is lie lie lie I can't help it
anyway let's say this was written
while watching holy water streaming
from the sky shall we? I ask
no she said
oh I said
oh holy water streaming all over my face
all over my body making my skin foreskin
fingers agile holy water in my cognac glass
pissing up my Courvoisier
oh Nancy oh Nancy the Police the Police
were here they were asking about my poems
the ones in the water the ones drifting onto
Blackwater bridge
no she said
yes I said
oh holy water streaming all over my face
all over my body making my skin foreskin
my fingers agile holy water
and then I kissed her Humperdinck Ten Guitars
and then I really started to write
69. Take my word for it
and use it
for any other word say
winter
it is winter
my word and your word 's
the same
and
even if it is not winter
it's nice
isn't it ?
(nice poem yes Nancy's Story might get me somewhere
fame and such)
Yes! yes! let's make poems!
I shouted no she sighed not us
You you make poems!
70. POEM ONE
work your body really work it well
work the knobs get to know the levers
the gas lever makes you
go faster really
71. POEM TWO
she looked in the mirror she saw
her mirror self her mirror image
she's a glass person with glass veins
look I am imitating myself
she said and look
this is a poem
says who?
says I she said
and laughed like a child
look at my flower it comes from Armagh
it was giving me by Navan
72. POEM THREE
she sits in front of herself oh I am so old
she said as wrinkled as leaves
falling fall leaves falling from trees
winter trees Hilvarenbeek trees
oh where is the Fire you were talking
about
a couple of poems ago?
where is a Gardener who sings in the rain?
73. POEM FOUR
Mrs. Appleby Lady Chattily
you just have different names
but you are the same
oh where is the Fire?
the Poet in the rain?
74. POEM FIVE
she had a lot of problems a lot of
fantasies a sweet Körper a beautiful
mouth ohh legs
I have a sweet Körper she said
I have a lot of fantasies she said
why do I have a lot of problems?
why do I have a lot of fantasies?
why do I have a sweet Körper?
why do I have a mouth?
why do I have legs?
why does Sdutty write when he mentions my legs
ooh?
75. POEM SIX
all the women sit in a circle everyone
has her own orgasm one woman said
yes all else frustrates
the same women said yes?
poems?
yes the rest of the women ...nod
yes!
76. POEM SEVEN
every woman has her own way
every woman comes
and goes as often as
an arrow out of a tensed bow
a cannon ball
a policeman's gun
an Eskimo from Alaska
an electrical-chemical discharge
yes?
yes!
every woman comes back goes away
as often as
this thing what is this thing
called a poem
an arrow out...
a cannon ...
a po ...
an e ...
an ...
oh yes I know! they come back!
77. POEM EIGHT
not all stars shine not all the time
no no nod noddy genital massage can change that
yes yes electron things Deep Space yes nod
your body explodes ask any one yes ask
yes yes ask Horseshoe ask
78. POEM NINE
Names what's in Names an Idiot asked
a long time ago you a Shakespearean Sextonian fool
a woman a woman's Names a woman in every Name.
even in Men's names a woman a small little girl
Nathtalian Brynckman a small daughter
79. POEM TEN
read me
make friends with me
live with me
love me
marry me.
contact me please
me
80. POEM ELEVEN
love making then ohh you know what that is?
it's that thing when a woman gets
into you never to get out again
that thing when the pilot takes you away
to foreign countries holiday nice sun
booze ahh that thing when they lock the gate
when you die oooooooh ohh
that sucking thing ... ohh
81. POEM TWELVE
you don't need to need this you don't need
this
that you need in fact nothing what the hell 's this then
when you need that?
not this?
in fact nothing I think
82. Nancy was still purring on my lap when the Police came again train
came to the steps of the Municipal Opera Lodge Café oh I didn't
know what to say tender soft things etc. or ohh it was 'embarrassing get
dressed get dressed ohh and an' my complaint vanished then an' there sorry
I can't finish this Story have to go! get dressed get dressed hurry!
Here sorry sorry you came there here was a Poet in here there he has left
now sorry sorry sorry
I can do sweet all about that no I know nothing
about the Muses the drafts no she wasn't in here the Fire? s not worth
much cheap wood little Fire a lot of poems drifting on Blackriver? no
the women? no oh she? it's only Nancy Carlson she's
leaving hurry get out!
now
see she's going to Art School she works hard
no my Name's not Dutty it's Sdutty its different no I am not a Writer
I am a Reader
yes
all I do is read
I read from Monday to Monday
winter summer spring young autumn
Valentine I read
Christmas I read I never write
never ever never will cannot
I've never written one single letter in my
live
honestly I am Illiterate honestly
I can't write
I don't know this girl
I have nothing to do with Nancy
Barber talk? compromising stuff? a light breeze?
I am not like that I don't go for that
I don't go for that either
women? never
lots of women never I am not like that
I don't go for that I don't write poems
nobody reads I read poems
everybody write poems yes
I have a Mercedes Benz
sorry sorry you came there was
a Poet in here he has left now
I am sorry sorry so sorry Onute
83. Bernstein send me a letter asking please
comply explain it's the new rules
explain where you were ...
why you weren't where there ...
why you were ...
why you were and not ...
and ...
why you were not ...
and ...
there the Art School girl
and not or there ...
or the other thing ...
before the married women
the one whose ticket you swiped just to win
the lottery that one Chestnut eyes
oh I love you ...
or the drafts in the water
the ones before before those ones ...
or the other ones the hidden ones on the Wall
those ones
the ones you keep for yourself ...
the important ones you know what I mean?
the big ones those things anthologies
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
explain
the little flowers ...
your poems ...
or true as Paint in the water ...
I will take your brush away see
staff messing on marble tarmac
no go
I want to know ...
84. Things got out of hand Opera House poems communications the King's
Love Palaces Ball dropped off doesn't want to do corrections no Ghost
Writing Van Vosselen started mixing French letters with Opera letters
School teachers were asking the Art School girl awkward questions the
Police the Police started checking I.D. numbers of Mercedes Benz Box Car
at the Lodge the Painters wanted more Honesty not Paint anymore there
was no overtime Greek Mythology Theology no silky Blue Skies
oh Religion good solid old time poem-writing
Religion
hey everybody shouted
hey we want real poems not pussy Paint
not in the foyer Fiuïda
get Paint out of here!
get Paper out of here! tear it off
end Love
sir this Paint's already been mixed White I
can't dump it just like that oh the Smudge sorry sorry Blackwater's bridge
I can't dump Paint just like that! where must I get Love all of a sudden?
besides people need lines on the tarmac how
re they gonna see where to go when it's Dark? they'll fall in Blackwater
river
get this paint out of here
this is a Tavern an Opera House classy Café
people don't have to see
where they go
not from here they don't they go over the cliff
anyway
Fiuïda he turned around went and
phoned Bernstein god I thought Religion
do I hate Religion
85. On the phone Bernstein he said we need more Religion fast we need
to get rid of Paint get rid of stale gale Papyrus we need different colours
new Walls different sets kinds of wallpapers get different kinds of gofers
change interiors New Nex Opera new sound Carreras Domingo Pavarotti Mehta
get rid of women
bye bye Callas bye bye Montserat Mamma
get New Names for Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café Blue Lips Society Clubs Lobis Companies Mountain Fun
good teaching letters from important people
corrections from other people a lot of rules a lot of graves
we need everybody to shut up shut their mouths
up
no talking in poems not Sdutty's kind of talking
not repetitive poems
yes yes
a lot of graves all those resurrected graveyard
scenes
where's everybody gone go on Opening Nights read
no good!
where are Orchestras gonna play?
you tell me!
by the way he asked what's this talk of Blue
Mercedes? I got a Blue one Dutty's got one the School Master's got one
the Deputy Everybody's got one the Police?
what are the Sergeants driving in?
I knew there would be trouble!
there's always trouble with Muses!
there's always trouble with Dutty!
(My name is not Dutty it's Sdutty!)
yes sure everybody knows about him
sure I told the Police what's her name?
Lucia di Lammermoor? Violetta?
Nancy?
86. Yes sure that's true etc.
PS.
painting this poem my gaze wondered
across the Big Water's belly yes sure
they're really gone gone come for my Paint
87. Madama Butterfly she's waiting
for me yet another fly in my Spider Web
etc.
La Fanciulla del West
La Rondine
Il Trittico
Suor Angelica
Gianni Schicchi
Turandot
can't just believe in poems like
that there's got to be Love somewhere
no trouble I don't want any trouble
no no no babe no no trouble
etc.
come to think of it
no I don't want no trouble
and
88. On this line there's a skew knit somewhere on it it's
not on the Wall this time not on the Wall this time as it was
on the Wall in Santa Christiana D'Aro no lover in the bed
of my head this time oops
the paper's OK the tarmac's OK
it's the line it it's got it
somewhere neat
89. I started to write a letter today I wrote on the first line Love Love
Love then tore it up walked to the Wall kissed the Wall went else where
to the Opera oops the paper's OK
the tarmac's OK
it it's the line it's got it
somewhere neat
the Paper is Blue the letters White the Paper
is silky Blue oh feel the Black of the Blue Paper soft as thighs of Muses
wet as Saliva open as Lips her Lips talking Love Love Love as poisonous
as that as poems Sofas naked Monet's Maya oops
the paper's OK
the tarmac's OK
it it's the line it's
got it
somewhere neat
it's too short short too short for a poem of
Paint too long long to send as a short note to you not mentioning Love
Love Love see? watch the Ceiling it's White
90. Love and Unloose White Flowers in Blue vases
on Santa Christian D'Aro Black tables how did you
get this far Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café?
much tarmac a hard go a man's job not a poet's
Flowers are for the ladies Booze Tables
ahh who cares about the Tables?
who cares about Kissings
under Valentine Christmas trees?
Cats in the rain?
Names?
Feelings young?
nobody plain nobody
say I am so tired of this Wallpaper
you can't believe it I am so tired
of Paper Walls
Love and Unloose wears you out some down
same as Passion and so on
same as read same as
roads
same as shoes that's too big big boots
give me a Booty n I'll boot this poem write
into Blackwater river
good ending?
91. I don't care Love has worn me out down
the crevice time has Nancy's comma
there's a lock on the door
Chastity Bridal Padlock
Unloose is my Love bad ending?
I don't care Love has worn me out up
and away day time night everyday
92. Before I used to be a well known poet a long time ago three months
before the other Painters took over ohh before the Police I wrote about
women and little girls
ohh I was loved I was everybody's Sweet Heart
't was good the best poems phoned themselves
in on modems Intravenous Glass Vibes Optical Light Vinegar I had Black
Lightning Opera Tower Butter Kings and Queens Love and Passion and other
women oh I fell in Love with their toes their legs ooh their mouths their
eyes what else their little writings their poems their landslides their
roofs under which they sleep at night their shoes their room numbers their
starry skies
ooh
but that was before now
mud slippery mud slices slippery slices
slipping under feet Macintoshes more
now Blackwater river now then Valentine
Christmas isn't there any Love anywhere?
93. Who want my poems?
94. POEM THIRTEEN
you say to everybody
you are good you are good
that's so nice to hear when
you are good
no time no time
to talk about my poems anymore there are ohh this border is no good this
lane is crooked
nobody can drive in lanes and stay in lanes
like these
forever all the time
nobody can redo my poems and start again nobody
they saw it from me
everybody wants to go for tarmac paper
things are falling apart an' that works on
me
then done do shoes mud oh things are falling
from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me
where is the lover of my life?
ohh on the steps of the Municipal Paint Opera
lodge Café?
yes she's waiting
no she's gone done do into the Zodiac Zoo!
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
not you too
you can't survive it
where is the Lover of my life?
ohh on the steps of the Municipal Paint Opera
Lodge Café?
no?
she didn't go over the cliff did she?
maybe that's the reason why she's not here
the Police
there are reasons for things you know
how can you write if you start to read?
things are falling apart an' that works on
me
this border is no good this lane's skew
I can't drive in lanes like these I can't redo
poems start it again
95. Why do you always bring in Jews in your poems? by the way?
it's always so obvious always the odd one walking
banging around wondering Jew?
there were painters and poets there they talked
and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested
in the paint I mix nobody no body knew about Nancy Carlson or The Palace
of Joy where Suzy Wong and I the little girl from the Art school she has
to cross the Black River at the downside crossing at Blackwater bridge
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body never have heard about Suzy Wong and The Palace
of joy? The Venial Opera Lodge Café? the Swiss Farm Lodge? why?
why? why? is the Blackwater river's water so murky? why is there paint
in the water? why is it raining so much? Benozzo Gozzoli? A horse? why?
where has all the flowers gone? into Santa Christiana Golf Club Page 5?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems
why? why? why does nobody no body likes Wallpaper? why does nobody no
body join Municipal Paint Sections? why? why? why? take Gravel Roads?
Sample Fours? Bogy Roads? Loose droppings? Belim Tower Roads? Raam? why?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? why do I have to write my own poems?
why has nobody no body ever read any of my poems? why does nobody no body
ever write any of my poems for me? they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about
Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint
Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint
I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank
Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no
body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper
and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge
Café and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they
talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine
at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was
interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and
my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
and nobody no body was interested in the paint I mix they talked and talked
about Wallpaper and my poems and they drank Glue wine at the Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody no body was interested in the
paint I mix they talked and talked about Wallpaper and my poems and they
drank Glue wine at the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café and nobody
no body was interested in the paint I mix
I didn't bring him in he came in by
himself
the odd Jew?
yes
he lives here in Vienna
Mud-man Praetor Third man
96. Talked to a man he said I'm dead I'm not supposed
to speak to you its OK I said I can get into that
there's no communication between the living
and the dead I said I know that there's no
communication between the living either
everybody lives as if they're already
in your State you know what I mean?
I mean look at the geese my age
they're all like me
no I don't mean that I mean straight
talk communication oh I said
yes he said communication there's
only symbol signs it's like poems
yes yes I said I know exactly what you mean
there are many fools who know sweet all
about poems they're like you dead for reality
they don't even understand that poems are signs
any kind of sign the best is the Resurrection
sign
the coming to life sign you know?
néh he said sure I read you I said
you are talking Greek aren't you? you write?
néh he said again it's p
p? I said néh he said p p
for beautiful hey that's good
nobody will notice
that one néh! néh but don't
write a poem about it
OK I said and stopped writing this poem then
and here
97. At Blackwater's bridge there's White paint in the muddy water there's
some Blackwater Stories floating on their tummies there's mud mixing with
the Paint the houses the lawns swimming pools the people the ordinary
people the beautiful woman her legs man her thighs the two garçons
everything mingles with the Stories turning upside down faces down they're
not drowned they're in the same shape as the little stories an' their
sweet little hands reach into the deep
brushing tickling same as all the rest the
poems the other Stories they tickle up
the thighs
brushing tickling the huge ankles
of the mud walkers of the bridge his feet his ankles they're tickling
up his skirt smearing the white paint
higher and higher
up
his smeared thighs
a pre pre poem?
you sure?
isn't there Love anywhere?
98. POEM FOURTEEN
getting off age going fast
forty seven s
like a passing truck
passing 4.30 AM
early
waking up the neighbours
no need for rain no need
for poems
then:
the truck has passed go back
to sleep
for
the rest of your Night
99. POEM FIFTEEN
at Blackwater bridge write Stories start
with poems
start with my poems
save! save! this is a good one
C/trl + Enter
100. Working busy mixing Paint trying thinking
about some illicit Love contagious Love
the anatomy of Unlove
cacophony Maestro's Maîtres d'Hotel
who? who? who?
it's a dream it's in a dream rain wet
water doves poems poems
blinds mazes sky mud slippery mud
slices slippery slices
slipping feet slippery mud rain
feet shoes
some Blackwater bridge ideas for poems
you can't
end off an anthology with 47 poems
when she's 40 I mean
it's not
done so I
working busy mixing Paint trying thinking
about some more Blackwater bridge ideas
for poems you can't
I reached out into vast open tarmac
waste 47+
no woman lots of women
not a single Opera
the Paint 's hot ahh
the tarmac up 47°
An' here I stand with my brush in my hand
An' here I am Pages and Pages past
Blackwater bridge
no poem lots of poems
none of 'em mine
no poem lots of tarmac
101. POEM SIXTEEN
who says you can't end off an anthology
with 47 poems? what rule?
write a poem with four verses?
nobody reads a poem with six verses make
it five really 4's too short
102. ONE MORE POEM
waiting at the bridge many people re crossing
why not?
write a poem waiting no rain
none no harm no done
no?
a poem about a bicycle
A bike's a bike's a bike's a bike
Good day Gertrude Bernstein
A Police man is a Police Man
then done do shoes mud oh things
are falling from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me
where is the lover of my life?
ohh on the steps of the Municipal Paint
Opera lodge Café?
yes she's waiting
no she's gone done do into the Zodiac Zoo
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
not you too
you can't survive it!
Hughes White letters on the tarmac
hey this is a poem this is a good one
done shoes mud ooh
then done do shoes mud oh things
are falling from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me
where is the lover of my life?
oh on the steps of the Municipal Paint
Opera lodge Café?
yes she's waiting
no she's gone done do into the Zodiac Zoo
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
not you too
you can't survive it!
then the Art School girl passed
smiling holding a small Flower
in her White trembling hand
she came towards me towards
my Black Blue White Mercedes
Beans Car
then done do shoes mud oh things
are falling from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me ...
where is the lover of my life?
ohh on the steps of the Municipal Paint
Opera lodge Café?
yes she's waiting!
no she's gone done do into the Zodiac Zoo!
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
not you too
you can't survive it
this poem it's for you!
that's nice her gaze wandered
across the poem across the tarmac
the ferry left oh oops I missed my boat
she said
It's OK I said I know a Lodge
103. ANOTHER ONE MORE MORE
the slurry in the water of the Blackwater river
into the slurry
into the dungeons down into
Deep Pools into holes
in the earth into tunnels underneath
the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
down the streams
everyone with a loved one in a cosy gondola
drifting
all drifting towards Blackwater bridge
wait your turn! wait your turn!
take your turn! take your turn!
things are falling apart an' that works on
me
then done do shoes mud oh things are falling
from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me where is the lover of
my life?
ohh on the steps of the Municipal Paint
Opera lodge Café?
yes she's waiting!
yes she's waiting!
yes she's waiting!
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
you too
you survive it
there is the Lover of my life? ohh on the steps
of the Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café?
ohh sweet little White Flower
maybe that's the reason why there are reasons
for things you know
how can you read when you start to write?
things are falling apart an' that works on me
then done do shoes mud oh things are falling
from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me
there is the lover of my life?
ohh on the steps
of Municipal Paint Opera lodge Café?
yes she's waiting
she's waiting
I don't believe it saliva smudging Blue Paper
Black Silence Ringing Silence
White Knight
you too you too
you survived it
things are falling apart an' that works on
me
then done do shoes mud oh things are falling
from Heaven Earth
an' that works on me
here is the lover of my life?
ohh here on the steps of the Municipal Paint
Opera lodge Café?
she's waiting!
she's waiting!
maybe that's the reason why there are reasons
for things you know
how can you read if you start to write
waiting waiting writing reading
things into the waiting hall stark naked?
beautiful ohh so beautiful
ohh on the steps don't worry on the steps
on the steps
104. ANOTHER ONE MORE MOREMORE
the sky is Blue
the grass is green and the water
the water doesn't look like water
it looks like Paint
Nicam Christi clear White paint
Can see clearly now
or
the background's Blue
the words are White
the water the water is as Black as Black tarmac
it doesn't look like water it looks like Black Black Black
tarmac Black Paper
Black Walls Blackwater Walls Black Water Black
Paint
smudges of White in it oh Blue White
105. POEM SEVENTEEN
there's Paint in the water of Blackwater river
it
it's a slurry
or
at Hilvarenbeek the leaves fall
off
from the trees
it's a sunny afternoon
no cloud
the trees are wrong
it's the wrong season
they write about my poems
they read about my poems
naughty things very naughty things
with married women
and children
it's all lies lies lies
they
tell lies lies
Roucher lies lies lies lies.
Other storytelling poetic sequences by Argo Spier
Bogy Road - A multi-levelled search into the essence of Wallpaper poetry
and glimpses of the power and darker sub-conscious side of Necro poetica.
Sampel Four -Wallpaper poetry and Necro poetic seances, moving into the
absurd with the printing out of wini.ini files as poetry.
Mucus Gravel - A compilation of sea and farmer poems, hilarious Wallpaper
poetry and beautiful songs.
Raam - The only work in his mother tongue, the Afrikaans language; a Kubrickian
space narration with translations of poems into various languages.
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café - Containing The Blackwater Stories,
Wallpaper poetry and dreams.
Santa Christiana D'Aro - Wallpaper poetry and a brilliant and homely story.
Belim Tower Road - Wallpaper poetry, containing perfect illustrations
of Necro Poetica, the resurrection of words already said and cold and
the creation of fragile Vestalian sound poetry.
On the beach of Ville St. Gillis Croix de Vie - Miscellaneous and uncompleted.
Mister Page on Page International Airport - Miscellaneous.
A Lover's Sundae Sarum - Anniversary love poems.
Douche and Addition - Poetry and columns.
Zinzli come home Albi - Summer Poems from Chur.
Seasons of Sarum - Storytelling poetic sequences and a deep drive into
Sarum.
Green Muse Trying - Columns and Storytelling Wallpaper poetry.
Blurbs on some of Argo Spier’s publications
Green Water Pain -
[When Night grew with the Dew]
'… with fingers that pat into the core
of feeling'
'Green Water Pain contains the right mix of
art-historical issues, love verses, vague sadness and frivolous ditty-like
rhyme. It is a sensitive journey and to the pointe poetry. The intermingled
references throughout the story to the poetry Paul Celan gives it its
eary palpate'.
Was it Mucha's?
No it wasn't Mucha's, it
was Jan Zrzavy's Cleopatra 1 and the Still-Life-
with-Lillies-of-the-Valley, it
wasn't Mucha's, it was
Frantisek Bilek's How-Time-Models-Its-Poet, it
wasn't Mucha's, it was Maximilian Pirer's
Medusa washing her wriggling hair
no it wasn't Mucha's, it
From Medusa's wait
Nights grow with the dew and slowly
night after night they swell like love puffed virgins
hungry women
night after night at night they wink their eyes
and wriggle their snakes
oh you vile guilty ones laughing sweet
when spawning your basilisk egg
screaming loud when breeding your feral foul
when hauling your little snakiest babes
from Medusa's wait
Mr. Changs! from Ching-Ching
[Summer Love from Chur]
'... hilarious, sad and yet lovely. Soft tender
insider poetry'
'The story of Mister-Chang!s-Lue-from-Ching-Ching
refreshes and will bring a tear to the eye ... but it is also a story
of a very compassionate and understanding smile!'
'In the morning, in front of the Mirror on
the Day of the Story of One Day in the Life of Mr. Chang!s Lue from Ching-Ching,
Mister Chang!s Lue from Ching-Ching saw the impartiality of his Teeth.
He saw how Independent they were. Each Tooth went its own Way and refused
to conciliate with any other Individual Tooth. They all travelled away
from each other with ever increasing inflated Speed, and those that had
left first faded into the distance like Fleeting Days in the Lives of
Poets. Mr. Chang!s Lue from Ching-Ching looked at his own Eyes watching
him from the Mirror. To his surprise he saw that his Eyes were also showing
a similar Pattern of Behaviour. They were fading. Travelling towards unknown
Destinies'.
Castle and Flower
[Winter love story in verse and exercises in the Art of Imitation of Haiku]
I dedicate this short draft and exercise in
the art of imitating Haiku, to the three “Witches of Eve”,
Maya Nuda, Maya Vestita and there bigger sister, known since the beginning
of time as the cruellest and most incisive, Nancy Muse, who, in the slow
months of the year of 1997, castigated my cringing soul and making me
run, beg crawl and return to the feeding dens of their love for me.
All of what is written down here on paper happened
in actual life. It happened with me in the same year. The Year I refused
to be what I am not: a Poet!
A Winter Love Story in Verse and Exercises
in the Art of Imitation of Haiku - When leaning she laughs - When shines
a Moon - Humanoid your Face.
THE MOVING MYRIAD
A WILGCOFFEE STAND-ALONE PUBLICATION
Laggard winds and clarion breezes … colour, laïs and a circle.
The Moving Myriad was written in the weeks
before the author was to appear in court on a charge of refusal of payment
for a misprint of one his mayor publication, Green Muse Trying. The Moving
Myriad gives a good insight into how the author's mind functions in catastrophic
events and how he battles to come to terms with his persecution by the
KOLV VZW printing house. The association he makes with the prosecuted
medieval chanson composer and poet JEHANNOT DE LESCUREL who was hung in
1304 for promiscuity and immoral love is transparent. DE LESCURAL was
author and composer of one of the first three-voiced laïs in the
history of polyphonic mediaeval music. His song and composition, Gracieusette
Gillette, of which the original text is given in the footnotes along side
the English translation of it, is theme grande in The Story of a Myriad
and its recurring echo's throughout the book tells the story of a tender
and indestructible love.
… thought provoking and tender with the delicate honesty of a fearful
heart… Just a lovely sequence and completely worthwhile to read.
LWCFSD Poetic Society.
Recognition Song for Madam Gillette
A WILGCOFFEE STAND-ALONE PUBLICATION
clarion breezes and the colour of life
Recognition Song for Madam Gillette and its
recurring echo's of the licentiousness of carnal love tell a fragile story
of a tender and indestructible love, the love of words.
The author uses the sad history of the prosecuted medieval chanson composer
and poet JEHANNOT DE LESCUREL who was hung in 1304 for promiscuity and
inmoral love. DE LESCURAL was author and composer of one of the first
three-voiced laïs in the history of polyphonic mediaeval music, Gracieusette
Gillette. At the time writing the author too was prosecuted and fined,
but not for immoral love, but for the refusal to pay for a misprint by
the Kolv Vzw publishing house in Ghent, Belgium of his book called Green
Muse Trying.
Thought provoking and well structured. A story
of the delicate honesty of a fearful heart but a lovely sequence and serious
alchemy. … The poet is a charm and his seduction power is great.
LWCFSD POETIC SOCIETY.
Sym-
metry breaks. Russet sound
and brass replaces guise; pewter and alloy, tin.
And into the foreground a dark myriad slowly
motions. It breaks from the clinging archetype;
while in the widening space of the rearing
no man's land, the ABEL man runs.
And there is a call. It calls as if calling
from a hinterland. It calls you.
Legally a Muse
Aspirations and motivations, the theme of love-and-war
and small worlds are the ingredients that make Legally a Muse a story
of light complexity and lovely predictable suspense. Its about the forbidden
zone of makeshift communication and the overkill of innocence in the face
of instinctive rivalry.
'We were in a movie. And she couldn't help
it. But she took her script serious and did at that moment something that
she had never done before. She bent over and kissed me full on the lips.
The teeny-whiny little margin of what had become of the write and the
wrong disappeared. And she kissed me again. And this time she ventured
deeper into the forbidden zone of makeshift communication. Plain adulatory.
Her heart pounded fresh and I was a writer. Some flesh. She stuck the
tip of her tongue into the small slit between my lips. I felt lithe and
ordered another round coffee'.
Oliver and the Art of Sharing
Boundless self-centricity verses its counterpart,
the perilous desire to share inner feelings, and the challenge between
these two rivals as well as the deadly pursuit of cause-and-effect throughout
'Oliver', mould the story as it slips from happiness to a quest for happiness
into an unpretentiousness and very recognisable readable piece of writing.
'An unbounded compassion washed over me. From
then on every single motion I made in the Old City became a journey of
joy into Wonderland. The Wheel of my karma had started to turn and I was
caught in its positive tolling. My soul and I were reincarnated in the
body that was with us and we both were excited like children going on
an errant with their mother'.
Machines of Art
[From the Argo Spier Prague Interview]
'The material used in the Praha Interview, originated on a walk in Prague…'
'The Praha Interview, originated on a walk
in the mountains surrounding the little town of Tsciertschen in the Swiss
Canton of Graubunden. Argo Spier, a pupil of the South African poet, N.P.
van Wyk-Louw claims to be the Master-of-the-art-of-recombination of words.
The interview collects and recombines parole, creating a meta language
and poetry ... the scrolling kind. As are his poems, it is picturesque
and interlinked. It is a story, Argo Spier is a storyteller ... and his
stories are his work, Wallpaper poetry and Necro Poetica, the ghastly
rituals of writing poetry, his kind'.
'Poetry! You want to know what poetry is!
You want to know what makes a poem a poem! A poet does not know answers
to fit questions like these and the last person to ask what the essence
of poetry is, is a poet! I have not discovered this so called essence
yet and probably never will! I am still searching for the it of it like
every other natural born writer under the sun. I just don’t know
the answer to it and I am not the write person to be interviewed about
it!'
BOGY ROAD
[POEMS OF INNOCENCE AND JOY]
A Wilgcoffee stand-alone publication
'... utterances and everyday dialogue shaped into shocking rhyme'
'... working with flat characters and a simple
plot, SMUTTY creates a racy story with a constant night marsh and chilly
touch as it reaches its tentacles into the subconscious. Bogy Road has
a newness and a fresh vagrancy. It contains séance-like poetry
which excites'.
LWCFSD Poetic Society
Then she opened her mouth and showed me her
tongue. JUVANTE JEZU,
it was split! It was split like DI THE LEVIATHAN'S. She spoke with a voice.
'I am not dead. I am alive and I am a woman not a feman!
Honestly I can also be a man!
I am the poem you are writing!' she said and then she opened her mouth
again and hissed into my face.
I saw her skin color.
It changed from amethyst turf to moist mud.
I smelled the vagrancy of revitalized life seeping through the air like
a cool drug, breezing, promising, inviting, sweetening, growing, ripening
and segmenting.
Blue Sweet -
[Mr. Page on Page International Airport]
'... desolate spaces of feeling, accumulated
debris of used words.'
'Blue Sweet is a neat but strange step in
the spoor of Wallpaper poetry storytelling. It contains sediment of gall,
its unscrupulously honest and there is a typical touch of classy hilarity.
The right mix of ordinary utterances, irrelevant dialogue, stark expression
and the inevitable dramatic drive, makes it the perfect setting for a
true Sduttian story of a Mr. Page
on a Page International Airport.
And you’re lonely.
And you. Don’t know which. Way.
And your words. Are juxtaposed with images.
Of long Bien Temps. Ago.
Blue Space. Up the slopes. The Hex.
And you’re lonely.
And you. Don’t know which. Way.
And your words. Are juxtaposed with images.
Of long Bien Temps. Ago.
And you are.
… daring wallpaper poetic storytelling and a sweet suck on…
With minimal strokes and well selected words
the author works his way through the vast amount of accumulated encyclopaedic
debris left behind on the road of literature and reshapes waste to beauty.
With its 6 separate stories Blue Sweet, carries the reader over the threshold
of hesitation into the surreal world of the process of creative writing.
Vast spaces containing human feeling emerge as the pace is set and kept
throughout the book … a decorous contribution to the debate re the
essence of creative literature.
The master poet is here, once again, at his
best and he uses his seduction power with great ease, skill and unscrupulous
honesty. Blue Sweet with its irony, pathetic mien and off-beat bravura
… a daring statement, lovely and an experience in depth to read.
LWCFSD POETIC SOCIETY
Cocked Poise
[When I castled your Eye in my Loess]
' ... bracing and garrulous ... yet a gentle read and a tender story'
'… intricate and to the bone, a referral
to Seasons of Sarum. Cocked Poise has several deconstructive doors offering
contemporary art-historical rumpus. It has fingers touching in deep water,
the ritual of writing tout court'.
'No musician', I said, 'there’s no musician
on the beach, other than me! There’s nobody
other than me, to stain your sky. There’s no mountain,
no valley so high,
no sea so high,
as the day, the almighty day, I castled
your eye in my loess.'
A WILGCOFFEE STAND-ALONE PUBLICATION
... refreshing and loquacious...
Taken up in this publication are the sequences Zinsli came home Albi,
which contains the so-called Chur poems and originated in Switzerland,
A lover's sundae sarum, love poetry written in Austria, a third sequence
written on the beach of Ville St. Gillis Croix de Vie, France and the
in 1997 well received Canterbury Carillon which was written in England
as a contribution to the defamed child abduction and murders in Belgian
in 1995-1996 and presented in schools across Europe
'… intricate … core material from
the author's Seasons of Sarum. The sequence has its fingers touching into
the sub planes of the great poetic undercurrent unconsciousness. The ritual
of writing tout court'.
LWCFSD Poetic Society
[THE POET IS A NOMAD]
The diurnal alternation of light,
and poacher night, its weight,
and the weight of day,
and earth in its dreary sleep,
and sea, and earth, in the wake
and depth of douse,
and the stabbing stone, its height,
and the moon,
the immortal moon,
its silver dish, and your sun,
its flame,
and the flare of shining flaxen
gold.
- Your re-enactment of IT, of the Primal Scene,
that is what makes the poet a Nomad. -
The naked star, its meandered scatter
outside of the ring of the sky,
the rambled maze
in which the poet's frail reward
is solitude and sand,
and in which, wolf and coyote,
jackal and fox,
and howl, carouse,
celebrating death, resur-
rection,
and birth and birth,
and stirring dying days,
and surviving twilight.
- The dawning of your re-enactment of IT,
of the Primal Scene, that is what makes the poet
Sample Four
[The Masked Man of Sainte Margarita]
' ... the endless generation of words, images,
themes and stories'
'Sample Four employs Wallpaper poetry (the
endless generation of words, images, themes and stories) and results in
Necro Poetica (the ritual of writing). It is a Sduttian and Argo Spier
pushes his own genre to the limit by incorporating a transcript of a TV
Soap Opera and the so-called Computer poems, the latter which are print-outs
of the wini.ini file of his own computer. The dark and cult-like undertone
throughout the book hint towards what edge Argo Spier wants to drive language
and poetic storytelling. Sample Four is also an encyclopaedia of sound,
pictures and non-sensible sense and an intriguing story of four poets
in a bar in the middle of the Karoian desert discussing meta aspects of
writing tout court'.
next day ... static life
they gathered on the beach of Miramar
(they knew about the nightly raid)
Phaedo Phaerus Timaeus
and
the Masked Knight of Sainte Marguerite
sat on a rock feet in the water
don't be metaphysically naïve
the soul belongs to the world of fluid forms
that's why it rains so much it's easier to fight
that way when all is wet
the earth dogged
're you sure?
absolutely poems are written
MUNICIPAL PAINT OPERA LODGE CAFÉ
A WILGCOFFEE STAND-ALONE PUBLICATION
The Story of Helena and the Secret Pleasures
in the Palace of Joy.
The master poet is here, once again, lover and at most, in control. His
seduction power is great and he is just the Master Lover. The speed, versatility
in matter choice, use of words and themes and skill makes it the most
beautiful and boldest story written at the change of millennium. Municipal
Paint Opera Lodge Café with its irony, pathetic mien and on-beat
bravura is a most pleasant experience to encounter. The reader will just
love it. It is wallpaper poetic storytelling sec.
LWCFSD POETIC SOCIETY
somewhere
backstage Vienna another life VALENTINE
winter spring summer autumn
rain
subversive thoughts authentic Passions JOYCE
JAMES sure waiting behind the doors shoes
dreams writing poems landslides roofs
shoes numbers room numbers upstairs
sky
don't read what you don't write
slippery mud slices slippery slices
slipping under feet Macintoshes more
rain more steep rain poems
my many poems
wait! wait! wait! open the door
who's behind that door door door
do you hear hear hear the echo echo?
people notice poems everyday when
I write
poems everyday deconstructing poems
writing
people write about poems filamentary writings
signs of the Zodiac SAGITTARIUS VIRGO
WASSERMANN fire earth water breath and men
people many people Northerners
Southerners United East Indian
Companies
they write about poems my many
poems
they read about poems my many
poems
they read naughty things in poems very naughty
things in my poems naughty things with married
women children Muses of Dark Pools death
poisonous life lies lies lies lies lies
Santa Christiana D'Aro
WALLPAPER POETRY SEC THAT FAST SCROLLS THE
PERILOUS 'HOLIDAY' ADVENTURES AT SANTA CHRISTIANA D'ARO.
Look ... you put flowers on the table you make it nice they knock it over
when reaching for the milk and butter there is water in your plate water
on your bread water all over you you don't like that you don't want to
make it nice anymore you knock the bread on the floor it mushed up the
floor you get up you slip on the smooch you hurt your back you don't like
that you think why you had put flowers on the table why you had made it
nice why look at you you are like an old idiot you don't like that nobody
likes that nobody likes an old man they ask you hey why you walk like
that like an old man all crooked and bent askew you put flowers on the
table or something someone knocked it over when reaching for milk and
butter or what all that water in your plate water on your bread water
all over you you didn't like that you didn't want to make it nice anymore
you knocked the bread on the floor it mashed up the floor you got up you
slipped on the smooch you hurt your back you didn't like that you thought
why you had put flowers on the table why you had made it nice why look
at you you are like an old man you don't like that nobody likes that nobody
likes an old man everybody's gone ask you hey ...
Municipal Paint Opera Lodge Café
…. seduction power, exuberance in cadence,
speed, complaisance in matter-, word- and theme choice, appropriateness
of thrust and the brilliancy of hidden rhyme make of 'Lodge' a push of
one in a million. And with its irony, pathetic mien and on-beat bravura
it is an experience to apperceive. The rendezvous of the poet and his
beloved on the steps of the Opera lodge Café at Backwater Bridge
is just too beautiful an experience … too beautiful to describe
in words other than his own.
somewhere
backstage Vienna another life VALENTINE
winter spring summer autumn
rain
subversive thoughts authentic Passions JOYCE
JAMES sure waiting behind the doors shoes
dreams writing poems landslides roofs
shoes numbers room numbers upstairs
sky
don't read what you don't write
slippery mud slices slippery slices
slipping under feet Macintoshes more
rain more steep rain poems
my many poems
wait! wait! wait! open the door
who's behind that door door door
do you hear hear hear the echo echo?
people notice poems everyday when
I write
poems everyday deconstructing poems
writing
people write about poems filamentary writings
The Story of Caroline
A Wilgcoffee stand-alone publication
A quest for the sanity of love and a drive into the unconscious …
stark and a never ending story…
The story of CAROLINE and her double diagnosed
male persona with overt personality traits, T'ALBERT, EUGENE is one large
encyclopedic peeping box in which emotion intermingles with about everything
to tell the story of the creation of the story of CAROLINE.
… well structured and the multitude of
theme lines are running a steady course throughout the book only to intertwined
in the end into a tight knot.
… hilarious at times, chilly at others, with poetry and prose interlinked.
There's the 'reality-at-home' and the 'reality-abroad' and there's the
merge of these two with very recognizable patterns... An exciting story
of a writer's love for the love of words. - LWCFSD Poetic Society
Then, and honestly, I couldn't helped it,
I devilishly thought why not drop a pebble in as well? Just for the tease.
'If you think I am so kind, why don't you tell your wife that?', I said
and added, 'Or do you have a husband?' and burst out in laughter. Victory!
However it was short lived. She stung me immediately where it smites.
Chapeau!
'I already have!', she touché-ed.
I repressed a frown. The tight elastic band around this cheap unbounded
novelette was squeegee-ing tighter.
'Yes...? Everything...? Oh dumbfounded love!'
'Of course not! But if he is to ask me ... sure I will tell her!', she
replied.
Raam in 5 talen: Afrikaans, Nederlands, Frans, Duits, Engels
A WILGCOFFEE STAND-ALONE PUBLICATION
'Een Kubrickiaanse reis doorheen de grenzen van taal'.
RAAM, een Kubrickiaans ruimte epos, beschrijft
niet alleen een reis in de ruimte, maar is zelf een reis , een reis doorheen
de ruimte van taal. De lezer wordt meegenomen doorheen een veelvoud van
goed gestructureerde taallagen, lagen die in elkaar verstrengeld zijn
en die in elkaar overvloeien, afzonderlijk en toch onafscheidelijk van
elkaar. Met een bijzondere en suggestieve stijl en een zekere geladenheid,
creëert de schrijver in dit prachtige en compacte werk de illusie
van een geboorteproces van taal en van een taal die zich ontwikkelt vanaf
het vroege archaïsche begin van klank, menselijke klank, tot volwassen
geworden zingevende expressie. Naast de originele versie in Afro-Afrikaans
van de dichtbundel RAAM, bevat deze publicatie ook Nederlandse, Franse,
Duitse en Engelse vertalingen ervan en een inleidende artikel over RAAM.
[AFRIKAANS]
De tijd wordt zwaarder
in de verte verschijnt een speer
een vernauwende buis
vuur
een schijnende monoiliet
vreesaanjagend in de schaduwkring
die wachtende wildehond
canus lupus : roofdier of wolfshond
en het sterrebeeld het getal 58
[Français]
Le temps est saturé
dans le lointain un point est apparu
le tuyau se rétrécissant
ou le feu
le monolithe luisant
terrifiant
dans le cercle d'ombre
le loup qui attend
canus lupus : fauve ou chienet la constellation
avec le chiffre 58
[Deutsch]
Die Zeit wurde bleiern
In der Ferne tauchte ein Punkt auf
eine sich verengende Röhre
oder eine Flamme
ein gleißender Monolith
Kälte verströmend
Im Kreis der Schatten
wartete der wilde Hund
Canus Lupus:
Urhund oder Wolfshund
und die Sternenkonstellation Nummer 58
[English]
The time grew heavy
in the distance the point
the narrowing tube
or the flame
a shining monolith chilling
in the shadow-circle
the wild dog
awaiting
canus lupus: vulture or wolf dog
and the star constellation
with the number 58
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