Thursday, May 29, 2014

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

{ The Artist's Duty } by Kenneth Patchen

So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame
To extend all boundaries
To fog them in right over the plate
To kill only what is ridiculous
To establish problem
To ignore solutions
To listen to no one
To omit nothing
To contradict everything
To generate the free brain
To bear no cross
To take part in no crucifixion
To tinkle a warning when mankind strays
To explode upon all parties
To wound deeper than the soldier
To heal this poor obstinate monkey once and for all

To verify the irrational
To exaggerate all things
To inhibit everyone
To lubricate each proportion
To experience only experience

To set a flame in the high air
To exclaim at the commonplace alone
To cause the unseen eyes to open

To admire only the absurd
To be concerned with every profession save his own
To raise a fortuitous stink on the boulevards of truth and beauty
To desire an electrifiable intercourse with a female alligator
To lift the flesh above the suffering
To forgive the beautiful its disconsolate deceit

To flash his vengeful badge at every abyss


It is the artist’s duty to be alive
To drag people into glittering occupations

To blush perpetually in gaping innocence
To drift happily through the ruined race-intelligence
To burrow beneath the subconscious
To defend the unreal at the cost of his reason
To obey each outrageous impulse
To commit his company to all enchantments.

Monday, May 12, 2014

More poetry, this time rhymey... rap it outloud!

I bleed my arms around you like a moat in a siege
I lead a lovely devotional so we all can be freed

From sweet something of nothingness
Comes a buffering from suffering this
Life of loving and grieving, it's
Slowly weaving and leaving us

I feel to be a creed in a onesie of meat
A fusion of illusion and reality delusion
I'm the instant of infinity
The sin in me's divinity
The light in me's the night in me

We open up enlighteningly
Gently and frighteningly
Look, loves! See!
The love, we just must be...

poetry is a good brain excercise...

Enveloped in the room by all the space between electrons, protons, and neutrons (etc,) as the space between electrons, protons, and neutrons (etc,) working in fields of strong localized and weak cross-dimensional forces, I and I listen to ghost radio of void transmissions...

You can even begin to fathom the dark side of the sun and the sunnyside up of the street cracked and running on sentences in a prison of words in New Balance in short shorts or really really short pants (she said, "you bring me closer to Donald Duck")...

I think yr apathetic but you really can't be bothered to care one way or the other, so I steal yr shoelaces and put thumb tacks in yr texty thumbs. Open up like a hand like fingers spreading outward to inward winds blowing up skirts and through oaks, cranking up the corners...

Be the best no one you can can!

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Shout-out to Jessica post...

Here is an update for ya!

This wonderful 3-person collaboration was a product of my friends, Jenn and Finn, and me.
Ink on paper.