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Showing posts from December, 2010

from primitive pianos

18th Dec 2010
(return to London)

given what we have seen
Ryanair equals sardines
my bag is in number 29
and I am in number 3
they are playing Mozart
the elf a stewardess
wrapped in tinsel
selling everything
“your captain invites you
to read the card in front of you”
i’m over my usual weight
i didn’t do much with Italy
why couldn’t i have been Joyce
in Trieste
I keep forgetting it is almost Christmas
you’ll drive yourself nuts trying
to get what you want
JINGLES
they fuck you up

28 dec 2010

WOOD GREEN. NORTH LONDON.


the footpath buckles
these are the markers

who steps on my steps
we’re tailor made

what’s in yr food chain?

murals of an albatross
broken shoulders

as a community

you deserve
better pigs

and also stilt

is it lazy to be placed
with the rats?

oh this life
this life

we are all
mostly all

the erection
of a Eunuch

revisions from Trieste

7th October 2010

I am a lucid lucy
a listless chill in the gloaming
with a thickening of birds

I am the slap of the line
the buzzing of mopheads
I am that short espresso
the shaking of tails
the yoke yellow walls
spread out the window

I am a cough a sniffle
an old man’s head
a young woman’s eyes

I am the hairy tale of the past
waving or tucking between
the legs sometimes
a lick of the snout or a low grumble
from the belly

I was baited into a new tango
I was a temporary gathering
I was beast of another butter

it is the end of the month and this is not far from Venice not far from the thick eyes of Joyce with his twelve lectures on Shakespeare the Self Taught Man has a nosebleed
and alienation imagines a man with the tongue of a caterpillar

we can’t rip it out we can’t be ourselves alone
this is not a landscape
this is not the beast of a heart
the dark flame of old Europe

these are not moving pictures

we have left nothing
poets painters musicians
nothing stays still
in the churches of Rome
or Na…

slightly older (unfinished)

15 December 2010

under the salty moon
full on pizza
with salty dough
people commin
outta train station
with wheels
sunday returns
gone thicker
gone thinner
gone itchy
with winter
and doghairs
yr sentiments
are nice but not surprising
ideas are sand
in my bathing trunks
which i don't own
i was due to return
to Turkey but here
I am planning for London
i am that
perky little pug
barking at shadows
i am here
and have no proxy
hungry angry
winter blues
for fools
p is for press
cocky breeze
spikes my nipples
because changes
into something else
a supreme bark
nuthin always left
but everything
going up
going down
which floor
which paino
non parka Italiano
I'll tell you stories
of suspended animation
blues and cheap shampoo
awoke from dreams
take notes under headings


Turkish homophonics

gunay ik su jack . . . su jack larda . . . ye mes sek es del lay
jay hitch yamma yok
chok chu sick lay
cha shamba gun day
a vet var

older ones (unfinished)

6th December 2010
Via di Roiano, Trieste

I am a tense cannibal
think deeper
above the fury
hop flop into hope
30X30
illusionary surfaces
we have many minutes
we have you surrounded
keep swallowing your dog hair

12th December 2010
Trieste train station park

Novo Hotel Impero
(left shoulder)

stairs to tunnel
(right shoulder)

bench
(ass)

kebab ali baba
(eyes)

30th November 2010
Trieste Train Station Park

fake easternness
coming thru the camel
below the humps
scream or at least spit
instead just stood there
hands dried out
pigeons pigeons
I have a wrong pen in bad light
this bora waters my eyes
to rattle your cage
to lick another
dog's bowl
perhaps you would prefer to make other arrangements
oh I say it rank
stop feeding the messengers
the elements deride
I awoke on the roadside


25th November 2010
Trieste Doggie Park

is that you in front
of me
coming back
for exactly the same?
I have a name
I have been given a name
more than once
tried to change
IT
I'm learning to talk
DIRTY

WALK TO THE SEA
WALK TO THE SEA

these beasts
are good
to t…

last entry for trieste (not counting coming revisions)

16th December 2010

a little love
feast
banging

on invisible
headboards

the tired grunts
of a golden
retriever

this goes
very slowly

there are so many
molecules

I shd be satisfied
at some point

i am kicked
in some stupid places

let me think
without

bliss

is a simple thing

i take up
loving

the golden ones smells
a bit better

from a name brand
galaxy

into the wild blue yonder

muffled voices on the
cranked winds

teethed to dying
meat

i am en-
joined

to morph
back into human form

we believed we
were

somehow back
on earth

pre-
historic
again

and this is what it
looks like

goodbye trieste . . . goodbye james joyce . . . goodbye new friends of Trieste . .

from primitive pianos (Elblag, Poland)

Trendy Club
(Elblag, Poland)

put a hole in your skull
says Roger
the lid
is open
but where are my eyes
my balcony opens
delicious flavours
what wonderful timing
don't let them
keep you here
i am giving you
a ride home
I have not adapted
I envy my neighbours
their incredible skill

Calexico - The Guns of Brixton

Siekiera "Misiowie Puszyści"

Siekiera - Nowa Aleksandria

TEXT


mighty fine band . .. pics remind me of my days in Poland . . . .

primitive pianos (Elblag)

Cardinal Sundowns

tell me of the shadows
hither in St. Nicholas
late in the evening
in the gibber and gabber
with domino Roger
late in the evening
baba baba
in the bean poles
in the beetroots
late in the evening
with the squawk and squeek
of plastic
knees on palms
twins of my bosoms
tittering and skithering
jimmied into shiny skin
zim tim
microclusters
in yonder elms
dark hawks
hear us

from primitive pianos (Gdansk, Poland)

Danzig-Gdansk

an umbrella in my hand
a mirror in my eyes
covered in
smog this city
changes hands
play kiss me
watch all the indie
kids in t-shirts
for months I could
not save
my blue lips
my language lacked
a future
a smite will keep
for a while
me and my lightning
flashes
me and a toy cow
you can ride
half drunk
with a mouldy old ghost
in the house
of 100 beers

from A New Earth

Language consists of five basic sounds produced by the vocal cords. They are the vowels a, e, i, o, u. The other sounds are consonants produced by air pressure: s, f, g, and so forth. Do you believe some combination of such basic sounds could ever explain who you are, or the ultimate purpose of the universe, or even what a tree or stone is in its depth?

from the notebook (Italian section of Primitive Pianos)

21st November 2010

Pancakes provide solidity. Syrup is my get-up. Rain drips from the light swinging from a wire in the centre of the street. The bora is returning. My bum is cold please close
the window.

Hello world hello
i've tried to re-up
my realities
are short lived
i've not lived
a story

Mew is playing on my broken headphones. Have you met someone have you touched
the bottom? My stomach is regaining its flora and fauna. This is November 21. It's time to switch the station. Often I am permitted to return to a made place that is mine enfolded in all thought wherefore fall all hosts. A disturbance of words within words whose secret we see often. I can't believe your hands are so cold. I can't believe you're still playing this game.

Hello home
hello
you are being
oh so very
esoteric

swimming to the sound of clouds my partner does headstands in the front room with
a golden retriever. she is listening to something on her headphones. last night I dreamt of a snake. I had to e…

from the notebook (Italian section of Primitive Pianos)

25th November 2010
Trieste Doggie Park

a gooey ganglia
lived in creepy inns
no guts for creeds
I threw away
the plastic
that housed my szynka
haven't brushed my teeth
but I'm on my feet
a dumb shine
for the haughty
is that you in front
of me
coming back
for exactly the same?
I have a name
I have been given a name
more than once
tried to change
IT
I'm learning to talk
DIRTY

WALK TO THE SEA
WALK TO THE SEA

these beasts
are good
to think with
though i seem
tame
i speak for my name
in name only

CAUGHT MY SLOPPY
COPYIST

acid reflux
sun
on grass blades
lady in brown boots
and pram
with worn out
curls
a thick matted
dog
sniffs my shoe
there is a tree
born crooked
never got straight
made promises
never meant to keep
good morning
yoga





30th November 2010
Trieste Train Station Park

fake easternness
coming thru the camel
below the humps
scream or at least spit
instead just stood there
in an expensive necktie
and shoes
hands dried out
pigeons pigeons
wrong pen in bad light
bora waters my eyes
to rattle your cage
to lick another
dog's bowl
perh…