Friday, June 30, 2006

On a much brighter note

Michael Farrell is interviewed by Richard Lopez at Tom Beckett's e-values.

Colour me paranoid,

Eileen,

but I cannot see how Blogger, even with all its foibles, would selectively delete all your blogs at once. Sure you can delete individual blogs, deliberately or accidentally, but there seems to be no one screen or linkage that would take them all out at once.

When I read things such as "spent some time as a blog-tagger (hijacking blogs for her artistic endeavors)," which is given as part of a bionote in issue one of The Onion Union (& which caused me to think long & hard when considering editor Marcus McCann's request to submit some of my work) & hear stories of other people who have given up blogging because someone has taken over their blog, I arrive at the inescapable conclusion that somebody has logged into Blogger using yr name & password &, one by one, with malice aforethought, deleted each of your blogs.

& that horrifies me at a global level, & frightens me at a personal level, & causes me great grief at the specific level because of all the people I share this electronic world with, your Voice with its incredible insight & enthusiasm & energy & emotion & disdain for the concept of boundaries is the one that should never fall silent.

I hope Blogger can recover your posts. I'm seriously considering taking up a religion & lighting candles or chopping the heads off chickens or laying bowls of rice at the feet of idols or whatever if there's any chance that doing that will speed up the process. As Aretha Franklin put it, I
say
a little
prayer for you.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

There are
calamities

& then there are
Calamities

&
CALAMITIES

&
CALAMITIES


& then there's

SOME
FUCKING
ASSHOLE
DELETED
ALL OF
EILEEN TABIOS'
BLOGS


The content has gone
though, fortunately,
Eileen has managed to
reclaim the names
& the URLs
except for

Hay(na)ku

which
is turning
has turned
Japanese.

& that's too fucking coincidental for me,
that last bit happened far too fast.


I'd be looking
amongst those fucking reactionary haikuists
for the culprit.

equil brium

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

from: Enumerations

& on the bus

I have been reading guevara’s ‘bolivian diary’,
day by day, each day more tragic &
everything so fucking inescapable I could not
bring myself to read the last few pages
& reach the one he never wrote.


(1974)
(2006)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Today the
postman brought
me Scheherazade. If
you want to find out
what happened then
you're going to
have to wait until
tomorrow night.

The Mootown Sound

The
            calf-high
            high-heeled
            highly-polished
            hand-tooled
            cowboy boots
are exquisite

but without them

            the
emphysemic
pint-sized
old man
under his

            sweat-stained
            ten-gallon hat

would need
to have a
            stick to rub
against to
strike any
            sort of spark.

from: Enumerations

I attempted to rise,
but was not able
to stir: For as
I happen'd to lye
on my Back, I
found my Arms and
Legs were strongly
fastened on each
Side to the Ground;

and my Hair, which
was long and thick,
tied down in the same
Manner. I likewise
felt several slender
Ligatures across my
Body, from my Armpits
to my Thighs. I could
only look upwards; the
Sun began to grow hot,
and the Light offended
my Eyes.

Monday, June 26, 2006

s u b titl e

Tucked in

amongst the tracks of the latest release of MiPOradio's The Goodnight Show is my vocalising of "Lunch Poem", a piece that appeared here some weeks back.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

from: Enumerations

Out from the In box

from Juliet Wilson
I thought you might be interested in my new poetry blog magazine - Bolts of Silk (http://boltsofsilk.blogspot.com). It's a blog of poems that have something interesting to say and say it beautifully, whilst fitting into the computer screen.

To submit, please send me up to six poems in the body of an email. Poems should not have been published within the last six months, if they've been published prior to that, please let me know where. I'd also be delighted if you could let other poets know about the blog and if you would include a link on your website. All contributors will get a sidebar link to their website or blog and I'll be using the comments field to say why I have chosen to publish each poem.

More information on the blog itself. You'll notice that there are no poems there as yet, but I hope to start posting in a week or so and already have submissions from poets in Scotland, USA and Italy.


from Michael Farrell
reading revival's first phase is drawing to a close

if u havent got around to commenting on the book 'duty' - or the blog - nows the time -

if u havent got around to reading the book theres a resource waiting for u if yr interested -

http://readingrevival.blogspot.com

the site will remain live - any comments will go to my inbox - so i will read them & respond - & it will remain as an archive for future readers of duty - like a university class? - i can dream

this means were ready for book 2: ngarla songs (fremantle arts centre press 2003) by alexander brown & brian geytenbeek -

http://readingrevival2.blogspot.com

ive moved to a new site - so please update bookmarks or templates - or just use original site & travel from there. i will be posting soon.

i became aware of the book when brown won the kate challis raka award (an indigenous artist award) - despite the prize its my impression the book doesnt have a high literary profile - tho it was shortlisted for the premiers prize in w.a.

brown collected these contemporary songs by the ngarla people in the pilbara desert western australia; brown worked with geytenbeek to translate them into english. the book is a bilingual presentation

for the description on the back cover go to -
http://www.api-network.com/cgi-bin/page?publications/books/1920731733.api

to buy online for just $20.58 + postage go to -

http://www.bookworm.com.au/cgi-bin/bookmall/bookworm/result.tam?rlk=8809145

if the info drops out as it did with me once try again or try from blog or just search http://www.bookworm.com.au

it would be great to hear from o/s readers - for readers outside australia it is available from amazon
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-url/104-2296573-9919124?url=index%3Dstripbooks%3Arelevance-above&field-keywords=ngarla+songs&Go.x=8&Go.y=9&Go=Go
but as its $US22.50 it would be cheaper to go thru the above australian online bookshop (bookworm) as they further discount to $18.71 if yr outside australia + postage

of course amazon might be slightly quicker - but we have 3 months to buy read & discuss ngarla songs

it can also be ordered from a bookshop; melbourne readers: collected works have ordered 6 copies - reserve yr copy now - 03 96548873 (they are happy to do mail order for those outside melbourne who prefer not to buy online). note - it may not be on the poetry shelf in yr local bookshop - it may be under 'aboriginal studies ' or even 'anthropology' - so check before moving on.

its a great book & raises poetentially interesting questions relating to translation, anthologies, modernity, the place of indigenous poetry - to books as collaboration, to reorienting historys relation to poetry in australia & things we will discover ..

please post interesting comments to the site rather than email me - unless u have technical difficulties - in this case let me know if its ok to post as a comment -

i hope to run another live book group - so if yr interested please email me readingrevival at gmail dot com

if anyone wd like to run their own book group using ngarla songs (or duty) please do so - let me know - & if u want me to advertise for people in yr area to attend i can do that too -

if yr feeling proactive nows the time to get yr library to order it also

hope u all enjoy the book & hope to see u online

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Today the
postman brought
me John Cage's
X, writings
'79-'82
. I went
to sign my
name. "Already
done," he said. "Seen
one X,seen them
all." I watched
the postman until
he went around
the corner. Took
him four minutes
& thirty-three
seconds. I stood
silent. He kept
whistling.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

from: Enumerations

As simple an act
               I am dying, Egypt, dying:
as opening the eyes. Merely
               Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
coming into things by degrees.
               The miserable change now at my end
Morning: some tear is broken
               Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
on the wooden stairs
               In feeding them with those my former fortunes
of my lady's eyes. Profusions
               Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
of green. The leaves. Their
               The noblest; and do now not basely die,
constant prehensions. Like old
               Not cowardly put off my helmet to
junkies on Sheridan Square, eyes
               My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman
cold and round. There is a song
               Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
Nat Cole sings…This city
               I can no more.
& the intricate disorder
               of the seasons.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Today the
postman brought
me the roll of
the coalition
casualties
in Iraq. No lists;
each name a
separate letter. I
complained about
the amount
of mail. "Consider
yourself lucky"
said the postman.
"The couple next
door got the
Iraqis. It took
two trucks to
deliver it all."

Monday, June 19, 2006

Search for that
intersect when
the direction
changes &
things fly up-
wards — two
chances of
catching them.
Light
does    not
enter      only
the    open
eye.



attributed to Bait Neka
included in: One Hundred Poems from the Pashto
translated by Umberto Allegrezza & Alexei Vershenko
The Manichean Press; Bukhara, Uzbekistan. (in press)

Community

Many of these fine poets are also bloggers; surfing between the half-dozen sites, one visits with authors born on four continents. Mark Young's "Exile & The Middle Kingdom" is an excellent introduction to The Onion Union's second issue, tying together themes of the Internet and nationality. Young, one of the world's most net-friendly poets, investigates the possibility that, rather than a New Zealand poet or an Australian poet, he may be a poet of the Internet.
From Marcus McCann's introductory blurb to issue two of The Onion Union. The first time I've ever been one of "the world's most" anything.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

There's an Animals' song, that goes…..

Sunday morning, &
B.B.King & friend
blast through the
almost empty
shopping mall. It's
what I hate about
this place. Not a
shopaholic but I do
miss the Sydney
Sunday supermarkets
& the early morning
close of everything from
bookstores through to
pizza parlours. Get the
latenight munchies here
& you're reduced
to thinking about
hitting the high-
way with a kitchen knife
or a syringe filled
with strawberry jam
& holding up a
longhaul truckie. Fat
chance of that psychotic
Canned Heat episode
succeeding. A bit more
roadkill for the crows
to pick at. So you live
the quiet life, & only
venture out on Sunday
to buy the Saturday
Sydney Morning Herald
to catch up on the
commentary one
day behind, to buy
the local Murdoch tabloid
for the tv guide, put in
the Lotto. End up
rocked to the roots
by B.B. King &
friend which ain't
so bad because there's
nobody around to see
you suddenly break out
in a little dance. You
pass by the pharmacy
because you're
too old to buy
disposable diapers by
the baleload & not yet
old enough for them
to change their name
to incontinence pads;
pass by the hotbread
shop where the queue
& the quantity of product
passing over the counter
puts paid to the adage
that man &/or woman
with or without large or
otherwise families can-
not live by bread &
associated pastries
alone; pick up your
papers, pass over
your money to the
Government Lottery Office
& never expect even
a small return; then
head off for the highway
looking not for adventure
but forward to the
comfortable chair where
you can park your butt &
read yesterday's news
& then look to see
what's going to take
your mind off this place
in the coming week.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

from: Enumerations


A Slice of the Universe

Thursday, June 15, 2006

After Ferlinghetti


Constantly causing calamity
& death
whenever he performs
behind the backs
of his constituents
The President like a hypocrite
strides up to
the high moral ground
of his own
& his spin doctors' making
& propped up by
a neocon-vocation
prances his way
through the lie of the day
proclaiming Freedom
& Democracy
& using underhand tricks
& all without understanding
any thing
for what it really is
For he's the super revisionist
who must through force impose
his version of taught truth
before the taking of each stance or step
in his supposed advance
toward that still higher perch
where Booty stands & waits
to reward
those who have too much already
& he
a little charliechickenshit man
who peers to catch
the words of others
on his teleprompt
& does not know
where the capitals go
in intelligent design

Michael Farrell

started his blog reading revival with the following statements.
reading revival ... poetry and criticism ... with this blog i'm aiming to stimulate discussion and sales of australian poetry. there'll be a new book every quarter. three months to order, read and discuss books online .. or in a book group (start one). the books chosen will be ones that i think deserve more attention, and that i think are great. they won't be brand new, but will have appeared since 2000.

five years down the track & im still impressed with geraldine mckenzie's duty. this may be a melbourne impression, but i think this book's been overlooked. as youve probably gathered, this book is my choice to inaugurate readingrevivial. if you have it already, nows the time to pick it up again. any thoughts? share them please. if you havent youve got three months to read it and take part in the discussion, but why not get in early, those copies wont last forever.
Now, three months down the track, the framework is up for reading revival 2 whose banner reads:
the first sequel. reading revival 2 reads ngarla songs by alexander brown & brian geytenbeek: a collection of 20C indigenous songs translated from ngarla into english.
I wait with anticipation.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

I know, it's only Iraq 'n roll



The Rolling Stones launched into Start Me Up to kick off their latest mid-Eastern tour at Baghdad's historic Saddam Who? Park, a fitting venue and fitting opening song for the aging but irrepressible rockers.
Today the
postman brought
me a copy
of Ulysses. I
was dis-
appointed. Had
asked for the
Achilles doll.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

from: Enumerations

The smile is warm
but artificial. Beaver
lodges are a source of
hats. Ride the lift down
444 floors till you reach
the ceiling. Ring Rupert
Murdoch & remind him
yesterday was Sunday
& tomorrow is the
weekend. Sprinkle
nitrogen-based fertilizer
around the roots of
the cyclotron & water
it in. Watch bloodsports
avidly but then proclaim
to one & all how
cruel & unnatural they
really are. Forget to
turn off the orgone box
but remember to repair
the seismic recorder. It
may be needed later.
Bring in the alpaca.
Whitewash film noir.

Monday, June 12, 2006

from: Enumerations

Leevi Lehto does Deborah Number

     Glass flows. Slowly.
     Paracelsus: De Lapide Philosophorum


am. Deborah, this may
Markowitz announced today

number means the flow
fully viscoelastic flow

Deborah number is defined
Ditmar Award nominated

the relative importance
- Deborah Kusick. Office

results for relatively
relation for fully

reasons. in the small
her - where you will

am. Deborah, this may
Markowitz announced today

diffusion transport
date of birth, passport

more fluid the material
link(s), your physical

histories, it is shown
and prosper: Tear down

the Reference.com. Free
NY. USA Prof Samuel Lee

transport in polymers
3 Raw Place' appears

the relative importance
- Deborah Kusick. Office

Number Dilemma. Research
of Siena Catholic Church

Sunday, June 11, 2006

from: Enumerations

First lineS Frank O'Hara

Sitting in a corner of
the gallery, smiling
through my own memories
of painful excitement,
your wide eyes so. He
has a funnel instead
of a penis. So many
echoes in my head, so
many things in the
air! Soot, so that
the pliant, so the rain
falls, so we are taking off
our masks are we, &
keeping……Some days I
feel that I exude a
fine dust. Someone else's
Leica sitting on the
table sometimes. I think
I am a tiny figure. Spain!
Much more beautiful
than Eqypt. Suddenly
that body appears
in my smoke. Summer
is over. Suppose you
really do, toward the end.
how
well sung
spells succeed is

quite
often a
matter of chants

Saturday, June 10, 2006

from: Enumerations



included in the nzepc's Oban06 on-line anthology

a space odyssey

for Marko Niemi

put
i into
the stars &

then go climb
to reach
them

Not a great piece

by any stretch of the imagination. But, fuck it, I've been feeling guilty & when I have visits in the depths of the night to be told how I've been paying little heed to its needs, it's either a succubus or Series Magritte rattling my cage.

So, one day short of three months, I've finally posted another poem to mySM. Numero 126, love potion #9.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Today the
postman brought
me the latest
issue of
Conspiracy Theory Quarterly
in its plain
alfoil wrapper. I
waved to the
satellite as
I carried it in.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

from: Enumerations

-Icrease Your S'exual Desire and S'perm volume by 500%
-L'onger o'rgasms - The longest most intense o'rgasms of your life
-Rock hard e'rections - E'rections like steel
-E'jaculate like a porn star - Stronger ejaculation
-Multiple o'rgasms - C'um again and again
-S'PUR-M is The Newest and The Safest Way of Ph'armacy
-100% Natural and No Side E'ffects - in contrast to well-known brands.
-Experience three times longer o'rgasms
-World Wide shipping within 24 hours

Clisk here http://destinyawaitsu.com

from: Enumerations

Your USD 888 BONUS!

heat-producing Pro-macedonian night-blind
heart sac Catherine-wheel window tear-pale
steep-to angle reflector whey cure
body garment minced pie voucher check
chance-medley time-barred thorough-ripe
town sickness death damp dip rope
Sayan samoyedic quartz battery imagination-proof
sun-blackened field lark Deneb algedi

YOUR OWN CASINO!

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

from: Enumerations

The refreshed
catalogue.

Nothing new.

Old things
emboldened.

Accessible
to his
failing eyes.

from: Enumerations

Processor onlyString = new Processor() {
public Object process(Object obj,
Collection alwaysNull) {
if (obj instanceof String) {
return obj;
} else {
return null;
}
}
};
Enumeration strings = Enumerations.filter
(elems, onlyString);

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

from: Enumerations

apples
breadfruit
causality
decadence

Notes towards an ontology of the spoken word

from: Enumerations

He
danced, such as
it was. Coming
in at it
from the side,
ignoring the
precepts of
balance. An iso-
late statement.
Partner-
less.

Monday, June 05, 2006

adult education

For the
young
at heart

there were
lessons
in formal-

               de-
               hyde.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

What the postman really brought me

He sat studying
the patterns
of

a
leaf whilst
a crow defined

the fractals of
the wider
landscape.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Chaos Fairy

Today the
postman brought
me a manual
on how to write
serious poetry
& not go
off into mad
flights of fancy
whenever a
thought settles
like a butterfly
on the leaves
of my tree.

The Kronos Hay(na)ku

Eventually
he grew
tired of waiting.

Went home &
ate the
kids.

A call for Hay(na)ku

Dear poets and editors,
zafusy is looking to publish some not-previously-published
hay(na)ku.

If anyone would like to send some over please visit our submission guidelines and get in touch.

If any bloggers out there would consider posting a submission call for us we would be humbly thankful :-)

Look forward to reading them!

Yours, Jody Porter

PS: A thank you goes to Eileen Tabios for the form..
--
zafusy Online Poetry Journal
http://www.zafusy.com

Friday, June 02, 2006

What we
grow up on

we grow
used to.

Benedict XVI gets down

Projected a
photo-montage of
the palsied Polish
Pope upon the
wall, danced
the polka, then, to
assuage his gilt,
went out &
painted the
town purple.
There were other
times when the
moon got in
under his finger-
nails like a
fragment of
a Bach cantata.
& then there
were those
days
when
he felt the
need to
get out one of
the dresses
hidden
at the back
of the
ward-
robe
in order to
feel
complete.