ant
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Homepage: http://www.aemette.net
Posts by ant
Rr
March 27, 2010 - 9:55 am
Posted in Scribblings, Uncategorized | 3 comments
Men never move on
but are weathered
beyond all
recognition
Misreadings: A Concise Writing Style
Sky
retreating
all day all night
that world of water
an impasse as impassive
as the spirits we
raise there.
Folie à plusieurs
Dull desire bores like a dentist’s drill.
My lovers: Alice down the rabbit-hole, a girl made of geraniums.
Afghanistan. Judge them, JUDGE THEM.
When you die:
Keep your Breton close to where your heart used to be
Remember:
Jesus was a surrealist.
Plato was a surrealist.
Nietzsche was [...]
TME KMPRN (It’s cool, but it’s not poetry is it?)
December 28, 2009 - 5:55 pm
Tags: free writing, misreadings, poem, procedural poetry, scribbling
Posted in Poetry, Scribblings, Writing | 1 comment
TME KMPRN
Taught to dream
not with his head
but with his hands.
Inside he’s naked
and a little girl.
She loves, and alone
They leave, and die
young dos elastique
and so the sea finds
comical the combinations
in French soils .
Now never screaming
froid et subtle
dates nor eyes
nor your voice
added with their wounds
move our city of displacement.
And I am left screaming:
WHY SHOULD I PAY THE [...]
Poem: ‘horizon’ (and some thoughts on procedural poetry)
December 16, 2009 - 2:24 am
Tags: chance procedures, computer poetry, cyborg manifesto, e-poetry, imagism, poem, poet, poetry, procedural poetry, Writing
Posted in Poetry, Scribblings, Writing | 4 comments
the horizon
fixed the abyss to an eyelid
there I was
stretched like vessels
across the sky
before learning as adults
my thoughts pressed
along the flow of a
plume
until the pressure was subdued
more it gazed into me,
More [...]
Poem: The Solution
December 10, 2009 - 10:50 pm
Tags: identity, language poetry, misreadings, poem, poetry, pronouns, the task of translation, Writing
Posted in Poetry, Scribblings, Writing | 3 comments
The Solution
I under colours, suffers
my driving thoughts
all day through.
It grows so immense
that before I know it,
I am lost in open waters.
I asked my father, never short of
absurd and profound truths,
whether I should discard
the horrible eyes of English
as though it were a well-defined illusion
Still I know
had he told me different
I would have cried tears
that could split [...]
roots
December 8, 2009 - 7:41 pm
Tags: poem, poetry, procedural poetry, scribbling, translation
Posted in Poetry, Scribblings, Writing | 2 comments
The next time you’re doing a translation, don’t use the dictionary. If you don’t know the word, pick something that it sounds of. Otherwise, just guess. It will probably be all right.
—-
Somewhere
there is a woman,
her hips wind like a river,
her language like our hands
stretched out in a thousand words.
Spread through the fields the
daggers pass
like
my
thoughts.
But we [...]
poem: sixth (smile)
December 4, 2009 - 12:22 am
Tags: crisis, jokey, language poets, misreadings, poem, poetry, recession
Posted in Poetry, Writing | 1 comment
____
SIXTH
subdue
hissssteria of those troublesome female mass es
eased with antihisteriamines let’s get fiscal:
and pass the deep congress ional act
she said do we need protectionism?
seminal cash injections leave a mess
on both your economy and mine
pre servativ o ur values are not gd
truncated that growth stimulus package easily
feeling the explosion of that cap italicism
s crunch the fabric [...]
john baldessari
December 1, 2009 - 2:20 am
Tags: aura, baldessari, conceptual art, contemporary art, pure beauty, Scribblings, tate modern, walter benjamin
Posted in Scribblings | No comments
Only a section is taken, set in a corner and blown up to its original size. The red square delineates the size of the original work. The rest of the square is empty and we are invited to determine how the artwork has ’survived’ mechanical reproduction.
Not well.
misreadings
November 29, 2009 - 11:20 am
Tags: abulafia, chance procedures, deconstruction, foreign bodies, misreadings, poetry, procedural poetry, umberto eco
Posted in Poetry, Writing | 1 comment
‘Yes, there are only ever misreadings, of course; but mine is the correct one…’
Donald Paterson, The Book of Shadows
COPS RELEASE TIGER –
911 CALL at the end.
Brightened my commute to London.
BROWN SHUFFLES HIS CABARET.
Suppose our misreadings are something else?
Paris in the
the spring
Tiny foreign bodies flying past a lense unnoticed
beast
bicicletta-felicità; felicità
amiable beast profound and literary
dressed [...]
An old poem from a year ago
November 22, 2009 - 11:21 pm
Tags: poetry, recession
Posted in Poetry | No comments
No cream
the scene is a slow beat
my fingers a dull grey –
a cigarette sits between them
and the kettle is volcanic.
No cream.
Day time is short and the anxious crowd
grows sharp as the phone
is mute as the sky
shrinks
into the silt
into waters they’ll never feel
