animus rises – powieview #37

Tags

1971, 2016, 7*, adolescence, Allen Ginsberg, anima, animus, bliss, body, Bowie, broken, business, castration, chair, embarrasment, eyes, finger, genitalia, green, guitar, Howl, identity, music, open, rooftops, sex, touch

                ah, the lick the
                ahh-dolescence
                the rise of anima
                touched and sigh’d

                embodied, oo, I’ve
                got one of those,
                one of these, I’m
                one of them, wav-

                ing genitals to
                eternity from the
                rooftops until,
                embarrassed,

                animus rises
                statuesque to the
                cause, blissfully
                broken across

                open green eyes,
                easy shots from
                the swivel chair
                with cut-off finger

 

sigh‘d from the tumultuous adolescence of Ziggy Stardust, 1971 and Soul Love, 1971

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Bowie wormhole: loss
eyes wormhole: coagulating
green wormhole: olive trees
guitar wormhole: in the Java ‘n’ Jazz
identity wormhole: it’s all about…;
music wormhole: quiet river
open wormhole: frame
rooftops wormhole: between

 

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beepbeep

Tags

1960s, 1967, 2016, 7*, abandonment, colour, commentary, courage, crying, Dad, depression, direction, divorce, driving, evening, eyes, feeling sorry for myself, freedom, groundlessness, Have, home, hope, identity, life, light, looking, now, others, passing, people, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, revolution, sense of self, sex, sign, sound, texture, time, true nature, Victoria & Albert Museum, world

                                did Dad leaving
                                trigger my sense of revolution or
                my sense of depression
that there is no purpose
                                in the world
                that I would eventually have to find the courage
to face those new tremors,
                                but five years on,
                                                there, between the given textures
                already cheap and fraying

                                or did revolution trigger Dad to leave
                                                                and find some other way
                                                                                to find some truer nature?

                -O~~~

                                I didn’t want the headphones, now
                                I didn’t want the commentary
                                                all safely wrapped and bordered
                                                                so I kept my own eyes
                                                                open and saw 50 year old memorabilia
                                                                                strangely mute, now
                                                                                despite the peacock-print

                                                and little in between
                                                                save shuffling overcoats with
                                                                no sense of direction where to go
                                                                                save their right of individual                
                                                                                                                way

                                                                                                ~~~O-

                                I don’t think I want the revolution
                                anymore –
                                                away with your awkward sex! –
                I want to know the innate freedom
                                I trust I have already,
                                                save for my sense of right of way

                                                                I cried for fifty years later that evening
                                                it is hard to lose your way returning home
                                                                cut up and turning in circles
                                                                                hoping for the right lane
                                                                                                lights on and direction to go                
                                                                                                                everywhere
                                                                                                signed
                                                                and passing overhead
                                                                it is hard to arrive
                                                toe to toe
                                                                with a fifty year old overcoat
                                with no face
                                but a blinking eye
and me with no headphones

                                                                beepbeep

 

on 30th October 2016, I visited the Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition @You Say You Want a Revolution’ – Records and Rebels 1966-1970 (a birth day present, thank you, Carol); my Dad left our family on 2nd November 1967, my eighth birthday, and the divorce became final by 1969; I think it was Brigitte Bardot who said something about the ‘tremors’ which were felt in the late 60s, but few who had the ‘courage’ to face them, but I can’t seem to find the quote verbatim; we got a bit lost, at first, driving back from west London

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

abandonment & Dad & people wormhole: chartless …
depression wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
divorce wormhole: 1967
evening & identity wormhole: sleep now
eyes & life & sound wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
groundlessness & pointlessness wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
Have wormhole: Doctor Strange III – the needs of billions
light wormhole: adjustment
looking wormhole: Clea
others & passing wormhole: passersby
renunciation wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
texture wormhole: zazen
time wormhole: the too big moon
world wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow

 

plethora: the Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002)

Tags

2014, 21st century, 8*, breath, communication, cubism, feet, green, hands, Have, humanity, ideas, identity, infection, law, living, love, madness, public service, sex, society, talking, thinking, thought, war, words

 

The Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002); writer: Frank Miller; artists: Frank Miller, Lynn Varley

 

 

                              plethora: the Dark Knight Strikes Again (2002)

                                                            human store
                              bloated to homunculean proportion
                                   when glimpsed

                                             human whore
                    clenched to butt-round shouldn’t tantalus
                              when communicating

                                   human law
               infected with green lobes and infinite pixels
                              when serving

                         human war
          sputum-bilious from the love which couldn’t Have
                              when living

               human core
     mad as a food whisk masticating what it speaks
                              when speaking

     human spore
profligate of claim and statement to Have as currency
                              when building

                              with hands that span
                              and feet that stand
                    the planes that ‘scape and kaleidoscope
                              breathlessly

                              thought contorts and twists
                    involuntary-contrary to the atomic space it seeks to bridge
                                        free for those who ride the writhe that releases when
                                                  the atoms disperse

                                                  as they always do
                                        as they always will
                              vain and vein to the maintenance of world
                                                  and self

                              beings talk with thought
                              creatures think with will
                    and denizens of the 21st century Have everything
                                             but ideas

                                                       no wonder
                                        everything is so big and gaudy

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

breath wormhole: … walking down the street
communication & Have & identity wormhole: poessay VIII: / educational behaviourism
feet wormhole: the Avengers
green wormhole: 1966
hands wormhole: dream / 130207
living wormhole: “I think I’ll have a nice sandwich”
love & talking wormhole: axis: bold as love
society wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
thinking wormhole: gazing at the night / as my eyes passed the jagged hole / my head disappeared
thought wormhole: as they wish
war wormhole: 220712
words wormhole: window