Wednesday, 29 July 2009

Breeze shit you can buy

Yes, this newly R.P. researched Q.S. history's now out and super value; get it:

And there's these collaborations still knocking around:

Scarlet Letter:

French Kiss:

Glitch 2:

There are some CDs in the works and a few poemes concrete too - contact me if you desire them.

The Storm of Confusion

From 'The Mountains of California'

16. Condottieri

Our di | aspora | in
Cali | forni | a found
In the | distended | small

City | states of | Staples
& Geico | & Michaels
About | which winds | the vines,

Arbours, | begar | landed
Grottos | of ro | coco
Thingful | ness which | is in

The hot | tarmac | & the
Cold the | blown dry | leaves of
Wrath-conscious | capital.

6/vii/9 – Florence

Saturday, 25 July 2009

Embarrassing to indian dancers and why copying Michael, we love Michael Jackson please don't ruin his dance, by performing like that and that too for movie, why copying and have your own ideas, respect also indian dancer most of them they do great job ,some people like this ruin everything.

Wednesday, 22 July 2009

Whittaker Chambers, ‘October 21st, 1926’, Poetry, Vol. XXXVII, No. V, February 1931, pp. 258-59.

The moving masses of clouds, and the standing
Freights on the siding in the sun, alike induce in us
That despair which we, brother, know there is no withstanding.

Nothing but the moving masses of clouds has any meaning
For this tortured world now; or only motionlessness as of the cars,
In beings of substance, remains undemeaning.

Only the mention of the motion of masses,
Being or substance, has any meaning – or their cessation
Upon the perfect turn of the experience motion amasses.

We see all about us how, in creation,
Flowers from the dark gathering in their roots, with one motion,
Thrust themselves perfect, O God, perfect from increation.

And you know, brother, it is the same with cessation;
You know how perfect must be the ways of anything
Designing its return to cessation.

You know it is the cessation of the motion in me I am waiting:
And not lack of love, or love of the sun’s generation, and the motion
Of bodies, or their stasis, that keeps me – but my perfection for death I am waiting.

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Everybody seems to be texting and tweeting and nobody seems to spend any time in contemplation. It's not pop music. It's not about waving your lighter around. There is no physical participation for the audience. It is a quiet involvement. One or two people clapping can spoil it for everyone.

Monday, 20 July 2009


Richard attacked by troubled teenagers, to whom he extends his quivering pity. They biffed him on the head and asked for his bag, Richard said 'no no!', then they ran off. TERROR! His wounds are healing and he seems to be making a good recovery.