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some poems from Godzeenie (still very wet around the ears)

The formating is way off. Much different poems in person.

12:20
(For Zofia)

“The Bright tongue of the two / languages / dance in the one light”
(Robert Duncan)

I could summon

cosmic

gosip, unskin

the monkey

with its un-

relenting eyes, it is

never simple, these

passages, these pro-

miscious wanders with

gravel in my teeth, stolen

ladies & blood & snot

& seeds, wrong about

harmony, wrong, u know,

constantly, can’t won’t

have her, my windows

shot to hell, the smell

of sex under my

muffled pillow, Ireland

and God are fish-

bones jabbing

my throat, the super-

market and the

ancient fortress, the

crown and the peasant, swamped

children, banks &

hard Z's

12:20

strutting backwards
to the music not
trembling we’re tired
of trembling love
and hate in the goose
pudding
Godzeenie says
we muss shave
our heads
to find our mind

9:00

dried-up
soup
at the bottom
of the bowl

lookin to fix
my acid
reflux

rubbish &
guma
under my
shoe

rumaging
for a corpse

all things
even: my
head
is kickin
my ass!




04:20

Two weeks of Ulster Fries and
Buckfast and I’m with
sore bum.

Waiting for a plane to Krakow from Dublin.
Ate a monkey smoothie for eight Euro.

I’m taking discussion for depression, letterbombs for wooing, liquids over solids
in my body slop.

I’ve grown tired of my scholarly ways.

Fairy tales comet the sky and my teeth
are buried in the fruit bowl.

13:17

However far the pattern
serves
it’s still
where it
began
pieces of real
in
cracked cement
bitter
convenant
of
nameless
actions

a fading neighborhood

I couldn’t find
IT
anymore
a pun
in
the perishing
hours:

hopped-up on
hope
with a bum
credo
by
your leave: a
brightening prospect
still
faith
in-
different
to my old
poems
washed
in clouds

pop-
ulations
gather
in the
changing
light


24:00

Pathos does not absolve
memory. Fucking
sordid history. A focal
mope knows no mercy. We’re carried
away with the spoils. History
is fatal. The winter brings
all sorts of furs. I exagerate
with my bionic brace. Melodic mind
Bier Garden fat rat in the fog.



24:00

Just like that – Godzeenie – the man’s prick drips music. Unconscious with Cosmetto the Cunt – involved – naked – leading to this HISTORICAL MOMENT. I’m singing – now – on an international flight to – FLATLAND LEAFLAND YUNKLAND. And once again banal development in my Post-Avant. I’m chalked in cliches. It’s our common denominator. Divided and multiplied. Godzeenie, you are clearly audible, misunderstood and UR great apple sags MY vine.

13:00

Alle schon und ich bin
ein bischen hungrig
submerged & out of touch
it’s been two weeks since
I had a decent writing
nur young &
a tad lonely
searching for love
in The Milky Bar &
worrying cliches
the coffee burnt my lips
Polish women up &
down the street
full of hard Z’s & gusto
can’t count my money
acid in throat
hard clunks in nose
contacts come slow
no sex and no sleep and hard speak
IT is always packing up
Can’t pack IT in
I’m in the 80’s and my jaw is cracking
Bon Jovi and Summer of ’69 playing in the cafÈ
Kawa Cordon Bleu Ziemniaki paraliz
Tak
Prus-sha
Jen KOO ya
on the lank in Poland
don’t know if I’ll make rent

02:00

come

here, hear

her, want

her, can’t, want to, she won’t

let, hear, her, can’t,

won’t her

can’t

won’t

know

her

want want

her, can’t

can’t

open her

11:00

weddings never completed
justice in the hours
swanky linen blouses
devouring the gloss
of what’s lost

15:00

Ding An Sich
stuck
behind the eternal
stink







15:53

Old horse with new
bucket, Hermes in a real
duel with Apollo, I’m gaining
weight, strip the scales, got no bal-
ance, immense rage & fleet
on foot, I strap on my Zbigniew
Herbert, let the bands pass, hour by
hour dedicated to this in-
visible world, another pulled
neck & dust fills my flat.


16:36

Banners cascade
in the blind
mind’s maze
everything
miraculous
in the hour
in the sign
of the bowels

these are handwritten
songs
in a wilderness
of snow
00:00

Godzeenie
in the attic
cuts
lenses
for fortune tellers
driven into
mystery

bussling with weasels, apples
under black
jackets, carried
into shame, fingerprints
in the timeless gaps

let’s speak about
the syntax
of terror


08:58

Godzeenie hast gesprochen
under a bundle of microphones

a rusting future
a wooden shack
a tyranny of silent pines
a few distinguised shamans
arrangements in the doghairs
lacquered spring
movements in torn nets


00:12

drawing a thread
into the horse’s artery
in the
the stoney
bosom
of my homeland


13:37

chained to the emporer
the monkey commends
itself to measured claps




22:40

my pupil dilates and only the real
is abstract under the weight
of the closing curtains
of clay and despair

Godzeenie illuminates
the mineshaft of memories

black Ulster breath

mouth stuffed with stray cats

crossbeams groaning the hours

coated in fog I conjugate
question marks and stroll
under the sparks
of reconstructed cities

only once

the unreedemable youth

the mask of sexual misdeeds

I’m lost in the house
of god with celestial ceilings
and the secret markings
of undergarments

13:47

parts
peel off
in another brutally
brilliant
land

jabbing carefully
for solid ground

an eyelash
flickers
& disappears
in the twilight
00:17

self-hankering
godforks
at the tonsils
chill of
late October
&
frozen
dog-
shit
on the
streets


13:43

nothing at all
or
other

actual fabric
of
survival

miles of intimate senses

no one’s alone &
everyone’s
alone
being in doubt
in
the hotel lobby
in Katowice:
I left
my wife
for love

from another hauled
up
onto
the shore
still breathing
still kicking

I can’t find
the
natives
my mind
opens &
shuts
at strange intervals

hours dim
only
yesterday only
yesterday
the rusty
years robbed
red-
eyed
ex-
posed
to the noose
with
sentries
in the twilight
wandering poet
tangled
in
misery
slithering
among
the
splinters
on this
windy
All-Saints Day
13:59


soot made this Silesian city
railway station full of half-dead bodies
the horror of cut lips
floating around with a shrinking skull
hanging upside down and thinking
of burning another bridge
in the forward glance
nothing’s owned
darling
dear
tea
drop



14:00

The present is a prologue of excessive and morbid discharges.
The snow melted the moment it hit the road.
I spent the night turning over the moments.
Each wave is a blot on the human heart.
Crinkles increase round the eyes.
Generations tread the differences.
Providence scatters in the key-tap.
Enraptured cobwebs on my pillow.
Snared in the emptiness.
IT will not be sublimated away.
All pain is subsumed IN the moment.
A mutli-tracked railroad baptised by fire.
A broken heater hisses my shame.
My name is belly to hot belly.
An appetite for calamity.
Bats of the past.
Box of wedding pictures.
The mighty bull whom we love is full of black blood.

18:41

mixing it up
Bitches
Brew &
Tyskie, trying
to lose myself, drop
out, ignorant
lullabies expose
my private parts, gotta
do it with a bit
of WHOMP, a bit
of justice, else
without the persuasive
mysteries, my face
away from fear, lonliness
is a weightless sack
but it breaks my back, can’t
keep it UP, what’s
this? It’s my body
all chewed up. What’s this?
it’s my mouth attacking
my stomach, stuck
on teaching
Callan: no ideas but
in repitition makes
this monkey square, bardzo
prosimy, El
Problem kapiche

08:58

once more into blue
green slobbering
giant’s mouth
against
the mechanics
of the hour
I shot a bullet
round the world
and it’s
gaining speed
don’t know
when it will hit
in which land
on what street
during which hour
meanwhile I’m covered
in soot &
second-hand
love


Comments

Robert said…
this was my pick as one the hottest drops of the week

you win a brand new pony!

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