Saturday, November 2, 2013

perhaps, not so rare | a poem by a faust

perhaps is perhaps not so rare

keep still, as if yet you are young, and like everything
young, practicing, lie
so very v e r y

s   t     i       l         l              .                    .                           .

watching where the wood meets the walls in the corner
as the dust moves with the air your heart displaces
as the dust is tirelessly gathering time to itself
as your air settles and is still and as you

b r e a t h e

staying so still.  Possible futures ebb and flow, gather and die
the world threatening to make real enough the magick at which it had but hinted
proof enough that the burden
the proof
not yours

as it were your own if you are become like Cassandra or Cressid
living as you dream

you cannot explain, will not even start to,
you haven't the words as they must be in time
to a rhythm not yours, even had you the rhyme
nothing is yours till you can take it apart, til

you put it back together again.

setting out to do this proves on whose side the world is and
your heart is
the heart of a child, a feather, a friend

the whole world.  intact.  unaware it is special.  unaware that so rare a thing
that its you.

the dust will remember you, and live:

but you are the memory, and love.

the unspoken within is perhaps not alone
the unspoken within is perhaps as you choose

for Kayla P.
in response to "Shangri la"

Sunday, October 6, 2013

democracy(childhood)'s end,
or, trusting the government after Fukushima

democracy(childhood)'s end 
or, trusting the government after Fukushima

the end of an innocence (finally)
that was born around 1970
(or was it back further, can you see?
somewhere round 1933?)

we thought they could see what we saw
we sought what they bid us look for 
if they overlooked we would ignore
(sure all the while that justice was law --

-- but it isn't, because the law isn't just
made of logic and ethics and trust)
as ashes to ashes so they are not us
dust to radioactive dust

by a female faust
dedicated to or-well for the inspiration

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Like A Cat (Crossing A Room)

(song lyrics, or so i imagine, having not yet written the tune.)

Like A Cat (Crossing A Room)
dedicated to Emilia, of whose glamour it must be said one could glimpse an elusive gothic perfection at times.  should one desire such things. 

If the rumours I started are true
And you have a master plan
I'd call this success were I you
You take your victories  -- where you can

You make me forget
You make me forget
You make me forget like a cat
You make me forget
You make me forget
You make me forget just like that

Forever seductively new
If I practice, I'd never withstand
Though of course this cannot really be you
I  take inspiration -- where I can

The Sudden Change Of Indoor Climate: Perhaps Not An Objective Phenomenon

"The Sudden Change Of Indoor Climate: Perhaps Not An Objective Phenomenon"

A Graphicall Representation 
of The Immediate, Unmistakeable, Most Physical Response
(No Doubt An Effect Intentional)
Of A Certayne Rather Choice Turn of Phrase 
Encountered In Recent Correspondence
With A Gentleman Of Some Notoriety
With The Pleasure Of Whose Aquaintance 
(Happily Saving The Virtuall)
I Sadly Remain Yet Unfamiliar.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Such Is The Hope, Your Effect | a poem by a faust


such is the hope, your effect

as powerful exact as if coded and not spoken
those projects that your project's projects try to get to when they can
were all the web redacted it wouldn't be forever broken
unconcerned with seeming as befits the wit to plan

Monday, September 2, 2013

The Spirit Immortal: A Faust's Poem To Anonymous | Revised Again Ever So Slightly

the spirit immortal
(or, in starry eyed admiration dedicated to Anonymous)

All the best of us, hackers, wings far from untested,
attain our prize but per accindens –though but few have yet guessed it –
the rest intending, (to practice) or
dependent, (per...

 ...on the defaults reconfigured --
(their own, or their app's).*

:philosophies hammerless : dreams lacking anvils 
(in theory) 
:for the souls of immortals:    
their errors turn fatal, prove vapor, where shown 
but void due to muteness, 
that threatened to 0wn.

                   ....they stay – with us – 
                   ....they're staid – to us – 
                   ....they'd state "us," & quo 
Ut alteri vadis, warranto; alteri quorum, quid pro.

This is causa enough 
(should reason persever) 
to recognize, laugh at, and ---

                   (but be sure to remember
                   to anticipate everything 
                   while expecting it never)

---exlploit cheerfully,  
                                                             their evil endeavor.

Success (of course) is your proof,
by your choice,
at whatever:

to know, and to will, and to dare demand never
be told of the odds
that one changes
if clever.

through many revisions was yet draft: 2007 - 2010; now and forevermore dedicated to Anonymous
*with this line a revision dedicated to Douglas Rushkoff

Monday, August 12, 2013

Memory Of My Late Katydid

Memory Of My Late Katydid,

or,  a picture remembers my friend Kiki, who died last year

Friday, June 28, 2013

A Sonnet To My Belovéd (The First Of Many)

That My Other Work M ay Be 
By My Belovéd 

a sonnet 
by a female Faust

Aß difficult to be who I would be,
Belovéd, iß like unto compoßing ßonnet fit
in meta from, aß well aß forfor thee;
( though, an thou ßeest, thiß be writ).

For when reigning in the myriadß reßplendent
Ideaß begotten by thy wit upon my thought
I find them all collapßéd, lame, dependent
And quite unqualified to function aß they ought.

Myßelf I do conßider thiß brave compliment
though eaßily it ßeemeth the reverße
for though thiß sure redoundeth to my detriment
I alßo know that no attempt at all iß worße

...So... have I therefore worked about aß hard upon it,
aß have I yet on any -- finißhed --  ßonnet

Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Sonnet by a Faust to Some One Newly Met

To Timon Docent
a sonnet
by a female faust

You are as like a corpse – a soulless Thynge withal – 
as daff-down-dillies delicate despairing Desolation do describe; 
More alike the Wit whereby you'd audience enthrall: 
It stronger Spirit sure than what we'd eagerly imbibe.

O let these Words be brave!  If by mischance you came 
to Shakespeare's Misanthrope your then unhappy Self compare 
would i could convince you of how unbeffitting lame 
and thus how rendered doubly the ad hominem unfair.

(but first must i make mention of a loue yet unconfessd 
i sometime bear the Misanthrope for that one trait alone 
not that i would feel the pain to which it doth attest 
no nor ever to another such a show of force condone) in hopes the Docent doubts not his Desiderata 
as foolish surely as if the Student heeded not her Lysistrata.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

To My Fairy Godmother On Mother's Day

The file linked beneath the graphic below is only for her:
if you want to download this you will have to right-click it like everyone else.


PDF, encrypted, for my Godmother. Hopefully you can open it easily.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

A Second Verse For EFF's Delightfully Archaic 404

Did I say archaic?  Perhaps I meant 'welcome,' 'familiar,' or, in my own way, 'proper,' since it reminds me of my own Time, from which I am transplanted.  Movable type was indeed a modern invention -- but it was physical, bits of metal, ink stains, thick paper.  Not rules for a machine that thought in  light. But I am happy here, and, before I dream aloud of befriending such a machine, or worry that they are being taught evil or (which is the same) untruth, I will on to the matter at hand, to wit:

This is the 404 File Not Found page over at the Electronic Frontier Foundation.  If you are not familiar with them, you ought to be, because they are even as you read this defending the Internet, the miracle of this our age.  Like those Oakland Occupiers who, after seeing people hospitalized because they dared to protest, fearlessly covered our asses with peace sign shields from the very real threats of the Oakland Police, EFF works tirelessly to protect your ass and mine from the mission creeps seriously undermining, defaming, mocking, and threatening to do away with the Freedom of our Electronic Speech.

While you are there, if you file is for some reason not found, this is what you'll see:

So, silliness of silliness, I decided to write a second verse.  I hope they see it, and it pleases them.  I know there are more important things to do, but -- not ultimately as important as the creative Will, which must play. So, without further (too late to be "without too much") ado:

Ignor'd! Abhorr'd! / Now by oaths new'll be freer / Than my hours o'er you've been!

Be seeing you.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

To the gentleman to whom I gave half a poem

If, at objective observation, you are possessed of skills most rare
than that of which I'd hoped this presently to present,
this verse will be redundant.  Were you to be, improbably,  so Fair,
as, of such,  you seem, both capable and fond,
I for one would scarce believe it.  Having  overheard you well desir'd,
and with little else to do -- still, honestly, believe? 
That is, until --  that is, unless -- that is -- --- unsure. I look away,
reassess and put in context perspectives, yours and mine,
and the whispered opinions, giggling, solidify,
mature, then fade, in mere eyeglances of time
condemned at last, considered void, already moot,
"Not Because," -- it must be said -- "Not Because ..." of the unsaid
(but simply because everyone would have assumed you knew that you were cute).

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Foxes... in Berkeley?

...she counted at least two... that makes at least three...

Be seeing you.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013


...for all he has done to warn us:
Cory Doctorow rocks the free world (and parts of the civilized).

this meditated upon, this produced:

Hopefully Not Cassandra, or, portrait of, and ode to, the hero-philosopher, Cory Doctorow
(file is huge: right-click, view image, click again to enlarge)

Monday, February 25, 2013

the fifth power of the sphinx

 or, that creature has feathers, yet flies not away
by a female faust
written c. 1996 


...see a life left a chance yet a present perfect as surrender to new


always already the only foundation upon which will the Great


be as good & as easy as is energie infinite & as beauty is True


birthright Divine of innocence Human: even in sorrow, to know we can see...

Friday, February 8, 2013

San Onofox Meme


Sigh.  I wish the Forces of Good all the best.