Vacana of Between XIX

det er en jetlag morgen og mørket
er vakkert lover meg at laputas teppe
skal avsløres vi dukker gjennom
den røde rammen av gull slottet
inn i det grå teppet
og finner en meditativ stillhet
hjemlandet glistner i frostpusten
som bet av meg fingre og albuet meg
i lungene forrige gang
3 spiral trapper siden
3 krystallveier
3 gudinnebasseng
hun er ved min side nå afrodite
sofias nye geometri er tegnet i hennes øyne
og jeg er dets refleksjon
som skinner gjennom her under
laputas teppe
vår jord - jeg mener bakken - snø dekt
kald og frisk er hennes pust denne gangen
en sterk kontrast til den dampe varmen
av en betong jungel, et stoppested som brant vår hud
mellom opp og ned
mellom hjem og hjem
nomaden har fått tilbake sine bein
lagt sine røtter i Singapor med nye fotspor
en ny veil til the hule gamle treet
som vi nå skal finne tilbake til
gjemt under den grønne billens slør
et sted i Porsgrunn ?
som Philemons hytte eller Mikromegas' leilighet
flyter det rundt i blinde punkt
og venter til sløret lettes
or det gamle treet finner meg

I can't see be
y
ond
pond erin g
the carved shape of the new piece
of a puzzle i've been working on
the genome blocks
i'm trying to figure out how the angle works
to cut into a fourth dimension of space
or rather to see its shape , to not neglect that form
as it is there and i can feel it and it soothes now
as opposed to jarring against the soft flesh as it has
until she was there and you might think
i am alluding to some sort of fate
but that would be using your well chewed and masticated
pulps of western words
these words are of ideas which not even eastern
or northern or southern words can express
so it floats the green beetle irridescent
with corrosion formed by erosion into a mozaic
of a ad quadratum geometry
covering over whatever metallic sheen it once had
as a cocoon
which will lead the hollow tree of old roots
back to our attention
so we can yet again touch its bark and sit inside it
counting its rings and hearing the whispers of its stories
which has been spun in our absence
affected by our butterfly flaps on the oar of an aoteroan
canoe dug out from swamp rimu

det er sommerfugler i hjernelapper som
kiler mens de slikker av nektar
som jeg ikker sikker på om jeg trenger til noe annet
kom kramper seg litt og stikker litt i kulden
men det er likevel varmt her det er nok bare
mit paranoide skygge land som hvisker
om torner or blod og tenner og kroniske grep
de har løsnet nå mot full sirkel
som egentlig bare er et vendepunkt i spiralens gang
et endepunkt av en global nomades evig vinter
3 år siden sist han så vinter
men aldri har det varmet som nå
i en antiromantisks neoromantisk blikk

her meshy bosom is still there
as metal monkey , by fire horse, next to wooden ox
finally can stand to look at her
it's still there but its naked form seems beautiful
in this global light

Vacana ov Between XVIII

vacana of between XVIII

So here, I was not particularly thinking of the self as overrun by advertising (Made in Taiwan) or even a fluid or socially constructed entity. I was interested in how I could NOT think about the self except as a kind of evolutionary writing/text production (i.e. a subjectless process) linked to specific technological affordances and constraints, i.e. the self as, rather simply, part of an environment that is pull not push, to cite the Toyota Production System.

Tan Lin

quote ? quotation marks? source information? is this ok ?


right wrist broken
each line is a struggle
I had plucked feathers from the nomad
pheasant, female – brown and black, white tip
cut ; undipped
to calligraphy her eyes into the sky

I have to wait 28 days before I can write again

so Obama had stern words of love for Africa
welcomed as their president – with global feet
settled with a global name ; what follows
global law. I thought they called that colonies;
Iraq, Israel, Afhganistan, or will they be part of the union
as independent states
He stabbed her seventeen times,
all over the body, smiles as he talks of her
fix your face the smile is always there through it all
didn’t see the salt in his wounds and you know that you gave
that you took , that you crave
it’s what you wanted in the end was it NOT just a need
for the flame and the wake, rush on you feet, we know
everything, for the love that we gave, Sofist we’ll make
you follow what you want in our name, as we write
the steps for you to take. product of a written text,
entirety shapes the moving global soma

in symbols lies the add-infinitum history/cycles
of the Green Men we were
I was
Ayaam

sp I rit of Be tweihn (ai)

Vacana of Between XVII

good quality

elements

seem harder to come

by in our

consumer

society

Rimu dug out of a swamp, now Tokotoko

now walking/talking

stick

i would have referred to it as a cane in paler days

dug out

of a swamp

carved into your

hands

The Russian Nomad went to Peru

wearing only a backpack

and a handfull of dictionary words

to explore ancient ruins

and see between the words

instead of a ruin, where the blank was uncharted

outdated

a small village greeted him

following the trails of a river

the coded words are still hiding

bloodied after climbing

the smooth rock of ravines

the night was warm

chewing cocoa leaves

and sucking sugar canes

with the locals

Vacana of between XVI

The
siamese carries
news of bunnies

and Ahmadinejad
seems to rock

foundations

the democratic system
was meant
to

divide and conquer
against Khamenei,
Mousavi

they choose the
ride, steed
goes

global voice
save the green

dove

not white this
time around
it

covers up the
red and
yellow

leaves which had
been eaten
by

the bunny dead
in my
garden

they breed them
in the
house

behind
the fence
they sell pets
an
alpaca looks
over the barrier

my

their

hands are

bloody but

clean in the

bright open eyes

Matariki with the Eyes of the Valkyries

Vacana of Between XV

The cav-

ity

covered in shot

black and red taffeta

waterfall curtain

is not hollow

behind the main street of Ponsonby road

oppos

it

johns submerged buildings

the metal fence grits like rickety teeth

around the Soho hole

protecting an urban beach and swimming pool

for no one

the cav

e

a

cabaret of volt

air

e

full of holes

the puzzle is

dissonant

polar

tomoe

sandpaper at edges
is a slow process

I HUM i HeruUhaM spirare plus tus of Be tweihn(ai)

Listening to : Gojira – From mars to Sirius , Terra Incognita, The Way of All Flesh
reading/research: Gaza and Israel , Derrida, Biodiversity, Shinto Trinity, Borromean rings


structure of Home of global roots

This seems so familiar
So sure I knew this place
you can never return
Home; you can change
become
a new terravore scape


there is nothing wrong with
killing
Hunting to eat
your meat the crown of feat
it’s the way. the way; the
way the same way you eat
or not wether you eat
their blissful sky until
your numb
you do

nothing
to entice them to stop
them
in your abstinence
evolve
protect
balance

devolve
wipe out
rape the

habitat
seed the
home


there is no
thing wrong with

our Home and the killer
in us is
not your enemy friend fiend






Home strong
is the wheel that churns spirit of the grain

hear the rise of my despair thank you for your
blood splatter on the joke of big bullys’ peace
take his price from mister Nobel
thank you for the gunpowder they made great bombs
Alfred what good did it do?
price daemons
here to destroy wipe
your future clean
they want to eat you r tears , drink you
r history promised by the Yaldabaoth yellabout
freedom for the Tyrant freedom for the Feet
Body of the moon is a statue Eyes of the sun obscured
with heavy makeup can’t even see the old lines
of Horus her slutty eye , model anorexic glint
holds you with a clitoral hypno embrace can’t resist the juice she burns with
legal pills and herbs riding on the first wave of science in experimental frothing
we do this to ourselves , the head-on rush at the brick wall dystopia
prophecy is made in the writing of our Dreams ; Mare of the night taints it
when the burn of the fire holds you in fear ; only left with the shadows
distorted and stretched interpretations of the dancers Howl to the shine of
Man on the satellite , nocturnal always blinded by the brilliance of
unmasked eyes
she still lives in there
she still stays in there
stir
stir
stir
will we find the path to awake
deconstruct triple fire wheel unbreakable rings


eye(i) sore(soar) so(zoo) well I drink

dragging(dragon) this (tease) weight(wit) moan(mon)ster(stare)

still I stand and do(door) master(muster)
live(leave)


part ii

this rope is made of human hair
the well is made of human bones
cemented by our skin and nails
the rope is alive with fungus and worms , held in place by wax
burning off the frayed edges to keep it looking smooth, thinning
rope is tied
to the bucket that eats out of the well


teeth staple its wood together
as complexity reverses devolution fades the colour
in the face of being of flux of dreams
anaemic white weak
you expect me to abandon the well
the rustic notion ignorance of Arcadia
your Fiesta choked on the end of the rainbow
living in a mist returning to cross the river
thinking it was the same ever changing river

the well sits on a grassy knoll
overlooking the ocean
with an umbilical to underground lakes ;
puddles of creativity that pool into a global lake

we have the ability to be the most enlightened generation
of our known history
how can you see ?

I am pseudo partly-blind ; poor vision ; - 6.5
but my glasses and contacts work fine
ready access to a different vision ; spectre ; dimension of light,
broken ? , distorted ? , she changes more readily with the mind
in this flared out vision


the knoll is fenced in ; mirror maze borders ; with masquerade
killers living at each dead end; alleyways are their eyes ;
main streets are their glowing glassball ; reflection of a mask














sacrifice
the child of the slave to the master
owl to the bull
sacrifice
moloch to the goddess
molek to Sofia
golden donkey/elephant to the stone owl
in the Bohemian Grove

mule is growing restless in pyramids
searching the geometry ; genome bricks
of dimensional fertility
in the steppingstones of an unwritten past
roots filtered into culture through stolen symbols
the flux remains alive because of your numb minds
stole my heart and soul now you carry it on your back
to my children as they will break your back on the bridge
where the ugliest man grew into you and inverted cripple be
came your name as we soar leviathan ; flying whale over panels
magnetic subzero dynamos spiral twist spin past the ghost of time
who meditates silently on the pied mountain atop the owl; cow melted
into the donkey and elephant, in the lemon tree the snake hangs like an emerald
necklace around the hawks neck ; pecking eagle eyes ; eating eagle tongue

Home Strong
living roots are mine
to keep in the soil

global roots are ours

you can’t Tyranise
the home out of me you cant
bomb my home from me
global voice can’t have
this tyrant body
will bloat explode
from internal jabbing
fall yellaboutstones
diamond is written in our text
manifest dystopia unravelled
falling falling
it’s happening right now it’s happening to you

global roots are ours