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| Happy New Year, Samy. |
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Upon Revisiting samy.pl, Or, What Someone's Girlfriend Thinks Of How They Met Samy Kamkar
Friday, January 1, 2016
A New Year's Celebratory Sonnet Dedicated To Some Hacker I Never Met
::ring ring::
::ring ring::
(over the loudspeaker)
"its 2016. Samy kamkar,
paging Samy Kamkar...
Samy Kamkar,
please step to the white courtesy phone...
oh and do have a happy new year, Mr. Kamkar...."
"Upon Revisiting http://samy.pl, Or, What..."
Friday, December 25, 2015
No Fantasy — a poem by a faust
No Fantasy
or, what what is will have been seen to have been
always and me special even now life amazes
this most from the looks of it moment
the least of which singing in praise for the ages
though the everyday barely would comment
if such transience it into cognizance raises
although proper politeness would blush and demure
still glances perception search myriad ways as
it honest to honesty honestly were:
seeing mine doubt of nothing
out of you seeing me knowing
out of each and both ours
this perfection becoming
out of darkness so still hours wrapped up in the cold
thankful again just to be here to feel sunlight and morning
may you and yours your Divinity bless
answering meet and swiftly our gratitude
with beyond expectation's success
– over Evil the triumph of Good –
over Evil the triumph – of Good –
dedicated to yar
Solstice 2015
by a female faust
Saturday, October 31, 2015
People, Or, Why I Don't get Out Much (The Talk To The Hand Version)
"People, Or, Why I Don't get Out Much"
©1980 by a female faust.
Reproductions unauthorized without permission.
Credit where credit most assuredly due:
"Talk to the Hand" image by aliee-s on Deviant Art.
Be seeing you.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
To Jeremiah Young, who died before we met, I think
Death sucks.
Be seeing you.
mikey likes the illuminati
it was tired when it was born, four hundred years ago.
its tired now.
only difference is that then, the fit though few cogniscenti
all thought it was too silly a flipmode to ever be believed.
Giordano Bruno warned us about the media.....
little chains of love that they bind around your minds.
so, ineffectually perhaps, i played with some equations
as i meditated on these things.
h/t to @ArtofeVan.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
The Nervous Leader, a meme from a faust
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| badly photoshopped by yours truly. |
For more info, read about the 'nervous leader' here.
Be seeing you.
Saturday, September 19, 2015
voir not so dire | a work in progress
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| layout and content by a female faust |
we wander we wonder forgotten
we were wrong, we tried, and we failed
but what if that was the thing that was rotten
what if judge, jury and jail
threw not the book but their hearts in
could they make you make yourself well,
if you did would you know you were real
Be seeing you.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Sonnet: To My Godmother
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| No reprint without permission. |
Sonnet for my Godmother (perhaps unfinished)
Friday, April 17, 2015
People, Or Why I Don't Get Out Much | a poem by a faust
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Unless Our Spirit Wakes In Us We'll Drown:
On This All Too Near But Most Unnecessary Apocalypse
(Or, Thoughts On This All Too Near but Most Unnecessary Apocalypse)
Unless
Our Spirit
Wakes In Us
We'll Drown
(Or, On This All Too Near but Most Unnecessary Apocalypse)
by a female faust*
We all of us together living dream alone,1
& when all is (almost) said, & some of it is done
stand, if we are lucky, on the shoulders of those peers
made expert by experiment, if not enough by years.
It's like that story with the garden, you know, the chick, the snake:
They struggle to sedate us;
We struggle to awake.
This 'They' is a neither unified nor organized assault,
is powerful, relentless, one-pointed to a fault.
Despite its seeming gentleness, we find tsunami2 threatening:
So should we recognize the enemies
of dreamer, set, & setting.3..
...even if within our Selves. Especially. Could be that part deciding!4
(What?) (When?)(What if?) the question overpowers, our innocence confiding
as bright of eye & pointy tailed as government recruits
set up to be knocked down
by once trusted men in suits.
Where -- this metaphor... does not 'do justice,' is also where -- the Law...
ius, iura 5may be both, my Friend,
but in the end, l'Etat c'est Moi.6
So... 'let us go then, you & I,'7 indeed, this time to make a vow
as holy & as sacred as any we know how
as serious as if our hearts hung in some balance otherwise8
to do a little more each day to extirpate their lies.
If all of us (imagine!) at once withheld informed consent
TPTB9 would find their hands were forced --
most fully --
to relent --
...& ...not in empty word alone! ...although... so difficult a vision
hinges more upon our accuracy than it does upon precision:
for it must vanquish at long last the forces of stagnation,
of corporate indifference, of fascist machination,10
that in this foreboding pre-apocalypse seems to me sine qua non11
of all the creeping evil that we, together, face
& all of us, right here, right now, must choose to carry on:
Must create anew this broken World
Must save the Human Race.
notes *originally dedicated to Dr. James Fadiman of Sofia University.
- Joseph Conrad, "Heart of Darkness," (cinematized as "Apocalypse Now"), Marlow(!) "expresses this feeling en route to Kurtz," "We live as we dream, alone." Has haunted this faust. Read about it here; also worth grokking the interpretations of Gang of Four, here, and of Mr. Michael Stipe, in his introduction to this song.
- see amazing footage from 3/11, Japan. It is cued for the moment the memory of which directly inspired this line -- but so fascinating, it is worth rewinding to see the whole thing. (... uh, rewinding?!)
- As per Altered States' "...And I'm going to find the fucker", also Leary, and thus the Illuminatus! trilogy; Sufism....
- Means both "justice" and "law" -- see here.
- "The State, it is I." Attributed to Louis XIV of France; read more here.
- first line of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot. Read it here.
- see the Myth of Anubis, your Lawyer in the After-world, here.
- "The Powers That Be" chat
- line originally was "of corporate indifference, of negligence, of prejudice, of pride, of self serving short-sighted negligence, of force, of fraud, of will-full misuse, of hypocrisy, of abuse, of lies, of fascist machination......"
- "without the which, nothing" [Latin]
thank you Darren Wilson for being the vehicle for the Ghost that did not and will never give or be given up upon
Be seeing you.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
lostkat found, or, to a friend whose mother may have learned something, or not
commemorating my having found out that a dear friend (after patience deserving praise, and, in the face of much bullshit, acting with a decorum that commands compassion and respect), at long last told her mother what she thought of her, a none too pleasant experience on her mother's part but one which i have no doubt was both accurate and richly deserved:
in video form, a poem.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
This Remembers Until Delighted You
see
medical imaging technique detects and records human emotion, or, Fuck Friendship
& always remember to be wary
or, The Righteous Unrelenting Delightful You*
click to enlarge
love
and also with you
*that as it turned out was a lying evil cunt
Monday, August 25, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
JSUNPACK IS BACK: WOO-HOO! | a bit of verse in celebration
Dedicated, of course, to those responsible for jeek.org, where you may find jsunpack, as well as links to the source thereof, which this green geek must confess she had not the wit either to reanimate or to compile correctly during its long absence of her beloved generic javascript checker.
Let my long held fondness be proven, should proof entertain and delight, by its appearance in my silly little firefox searchplugin:
and the tutorial I wrote for a friend to go with it.
As usual, the text of this poem is appended cleverly in tiny one-point-sized text below (unless of course you have overridden that preference).
Thanks again, jsunpack.jeek.org.
JSUNPACK IS BACK: WOO HOO!
A Bit Of Verse To Mark The Happy Day
Just imagine: that yet unclicked link may be -- a disguise --
Sent securely, it's safe, surely -- certainly it seems
Uninfected by virulent malware, or suspicious prize.
Not reassuring. Netizens wise, from such schemes,
Protect themselves and their browsing with one simple tool:
All before accounts are made empty, or inboxes full.
Credit be given where credit is due:
Know what you click on before it knows you.
Be seeing you.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
The Palestinian Question | a poem by a faust (revised)
revised 8/18 -- first version here, for anyone who cares to see how my poems evolve (even though no one instance proves the rule actually) (and should one be that interested, please leave a comment, i would love to hear from you. comments are why i blog).
written even as Gaza is being bombed
again, like some Polish ghetto
to, when and no matter how frightening,
abandon that civilized ruth --
(useful obviously not whatsoever)
and endeavor this answer with truth;
to see in all the reporting, inventing,
slightly rephrased
the tired Question is brought;
to it we are taught responses;
by stinking trick long we've consented;
from it be assured, war will soon have new criminals wrought;
observe before you react.
sometimes you will be called
the truth may from actual facts -- not from talk --
-- but pay attention to
the power
of a people it would repent me are mine
of Zion, a cancerous ill:
the horror
of a father's cries in Palestine
if his child
this Answer
will kill.
by a female faust
Friday, July 18, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Sonnet To Paul Schou On The Occasion Of His Wedding by a female faust
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Saturday, February 8, 2014
For Mr. Michael Rivero, Webmaster, WhatReallyHappened
Monday, January 27, 2014
To The Man Who Sees To The Fukushima News
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
a thank you to a friend, inexplicably, in verse
May I point out the acrostic. Have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Be seeing you.
Noumenal Variable, (or, Irrational, Remainder?)
--- thanking you kindly, inexplicably, in verse
Times such as mere uniqueness cannot measure
have nonetheless a common bond at last revealed
among them. Familiar. A scent of the unexperienced, a taste
neither describable nor explicable, nor even -- as I
know it must, my friend, appear -- warranted. Of course,
I know better, I know proper, I know
not to -- but here, immanent, I know that the
Good that grows thickly, and so attempt in verse.
You are not expected to understand, but may if you wish, that the
outcome of actions you doubted remarkable was, somehow,
understood as a sweet and sudden juxtaposed perfection























