watching  Aljaezeera and listening to adbusters - live without dead time, which I stumbled on; labelled as Saul Williams and DJ Spook

 

Tiny Bird, a man in China .. has helped 60 000 people. helping migrant workers get back their money from rogue clients

 

a migrant workers employer owes him 6000 dollars, in confronting him the employer punched him in the face

and locked him up

the cops took him away and let the employer go

 

patiki eyes flower his cheeks

got a face of demand

choking on the cradle

got a need to demand

crawling on hands

dreaming that we stand

like strangers on the street

strangled but standing

with a face of demand

baby eyes flower his cheeks

got a fist of demands

like Tiny birds wings he saddles

a voice of demand

crawling in sand

like an hour glass trickling

into hour of change

third eyes flower his cheeks

 

hi I’m me I’m using this to sell you this

intercepts through every window, flahsing too quick

for the conscious 

absorbed in the subconscious 

distracting from the message

weaving into the map of thought

a ceremony of senses , alibi in a silent district

excusing             thought

executing             opinionated reflection 

I am not name

I am not

the names given

names taken

embraced

rejected

I am my names

you can not

say the name

of the idea that lies

between

I said the names

external & internal

life & dreams

death & change

you are not your

name

I am your name 

 

except in

moments

when you become your name

once named 

you can be ism

all can be ism

all mob ism

i am ism

society takes us

by the hand

groin & spine

wrapping soma in blue

ribbons; techno coloured seams

and a red cross –

stitch

i am names

dancing down concrete slab

alleyways with perfect

4 x 3 windows (= 6 ά²)

 

 

 

is ά just an incomplete chain of eternity or an hour glass

pouring its sand into nothingness  ?      abyss

 does it have an Aeon‘s hands  collecting fragments

in time of being ground from stone tablets of thought?

 

in moments you become a name do you live in moments ? moments are sublime

like watching endless horizon from the highest peak

as gusts of uninhibited winds threaten to push you off the steep face of a mountain

 

 

 

 

Name = Ism

transient the brown leaf paints its face green

 

Inverted cripple

            surfaces in the ebb

ocean retracts as the moon

slips under the covers

of a sky in dawn

inverted sun

she is not  interested

in the beam - touch

of the black hole

inserted name

            leathery topography,  eroding,

            unchanging;                         hides a face

 picks up drift -

bones and river organs

building the hollow nest

of a stick castle

a structure of the moment

inserted ism

waves of the ride fingers the base

moon ; she embraces

                                                             tide returns

face sink                         body floats

pieces

                                                the ocean

reclaiming

stolen

 t            r            a            n            s            i            e            n            c            e 

Vacana of Between

iii.

..The 'great' and the 'little'
show their arrogance in the bargain

established they stagnate
in codes and conventions they cement
traditions that
organise and
catalogue
our universe,

before we can touch the light
beyond the tunnel of perception

the price-list is made available
the inventory
is printed and copyrighted
we have named
all the stars

the great and the little
show their ignorance

O spirit of Between

Vacana of Between

ii.
the ground becomes a
whiteout folk-shadow blanket
when mob scatter the streets
lights shroud from drooping
poles of the Little

their giant hands and rusty mind
spin the cogs
with steed-like hooves

can I see the ground
without rejecting the Mob-

yajna
herd
tongue


O spirit of Between

Vacana of Between

i.
the sky becomes a
holographic swirl blanket
when the pan fries the clouds
opticon glares scraping the sky-
poles of the Great

his big eye and wooden beard
covers the sky
with raving shadow

can I see the sky
without rejecting the pan-
veda
opticon
eye

O spirit of Between