Wednesday, March 5, 2025
Wednesday, January 22, 2025
Always Already Again - a poem rediscovered by a Faust
Always Already Again
Or, If Categorical Surrender Is Possible, Is It Desirable?
(A Question Of Existential Epistemics)
The need to know is a need for control.
The need for control is a grasp for power. It’s one of the biggest impediments to intimacy.
To not know together is to love: it’s alive, it’s erotic, it’s tender.
Can you surrender just a bit more to the truth: you don’t know anything.
—-@stephsoussloff
This tweet at first surprised, now is changing, somehow, me;
this change still taking form, won’t let itself yet show
Recognized it by its playful rearranging how I see
that will have had in me reborn my very need to know.
Very much like this thing they call a craving for control
that the powerless, the mocked, the bullied, still admire:
If a dance is beautiful & joyous, does it stand to make you whole?
If the cause is good & true I for one would willingly conspire.
Wouldn’t you, if you came upon the Lord of Grasping
a chance encounter, or, after hunting night & day;
for all Love that will have last been seen in those hands gasping
you’d murder without second thought, you’d swift delight to slay.
Or not. I used to think the Truth is told from just how Beauty makes it ring
Not always. As you can see, I too am all-too-human, & I know not any thing.
Tuesday, January 14, 2025
nightdreaming
nightdreaming
or, how to make friends & influence people
a poem by a Faust
who do you think you are, &
who would i be to that you?
leave me that door ajar, then
ask do you have this view
when people have spoken of luck
what they mean they'd rather not say
come knock me my own secret knock
then answer as if there's a way
torture is needlessly hoping
to benefit some from the pain
then from the hopelessness needing
some right to be happy again
beauty's true & truth is beautiful, not every one — perhaps
but to dally with the one is to let the other lapse
Saturday, January 11, 2025
MEMENTO AMORI
MEMENTO AMORI
Vel, Ad Libitum Meum Dicatum Coboli Auctoribus Obscurae Restrictaeque
AD HOC ARBITRIUM POEMA FAUSTAE FEMINAE
to as yet unmet stranger that might possibly meet this my attempting
even now as nothing yet
to tell them — some way & how — how they’re Beauty, could be —
wordlessness most infinite
— at once — seen — & seen seeing — most delicious reflecting
possibility shining like light
— & moment most rare — an it happen — somehow to me.
harmonies sweet soft & bright
imagined communication reaches across space and time
wordlessness now quite unsought
(though i’ve only this verse with which to make do)
what i’ll’ve said be somehow caught
yours reaches back somehow even to mine —
that best ourselves be somehow shown
as i would this future thought remind you
in words like these i feel i’ve yet to hone:
so i must needs & do yet revise, refine.
HAEC SCRIPSI, UT QUISQUIS EXTRANEUS EST, QUI ME NATURALITER DILIGIT, FOVEATUR, UT CASUS FAVEAT, ET IN PROCESSU NUTRIAMUR, ET OPERA SINGULA INDE MAGNI FIANT.
Thursday, December 12, 2024
GOOGLE IT — An Open Letter Addressing The Problem Of Modern Humans' Response To Global Warming
Google It
An Open Letter
Almost two thirds of rivers on earth dried up last year.
HELP
Don't run around crying like I didn't know
After choosing to stop up your ears
Don't conוe around, sighing, like where should I go
After refusing to hear it for years
More than two thirds of all animals are gone.
HELP US
Don't be sneaking out selling your oil and coal
After each summit accord and agreement
Don't be freaking out pretending you're loyal, the goal
After all, was aborted while ink was still wet
Over one third of the world's population will be displaced.
HELP US NOW
What are you buying saying you're trying
People are dying because of your lying
Why don't you admit that you don't give a shit
About what you did, or your kids, or after you're dead
Forcing the future to pay buys not one extra day.
HELP US NOW
FIX THIS
OR GET OUT OF THE WAY
Friday, December 6, 2024
private eye, or, fantasies as tangible as epistemic
private eye
or, fantasies as tangible as epistemic
if i could only discover words realer that real
more like this now than i know
would that fresh kind of fire from Heaven to steal
really be worth certain death down below
would i still feel the same once i know
knowing this would i still want to go
if only i knew what it’s like being you
as my words seek out & find you somewhere
if i could see hear & feel what you do
would you know then for sure that i care
in the end would i think it was fair
only needed a good questionnaire
if somehow i see what it is to be me
in context in time with perspective
would it fall into place, make me finally free
would that freedom be highly infective
giving life a new hip prime directive
at least we might be more effective
Monday, November 25, 2024
Monday, November 18, 2024
To My Friend On His Deathbed, Or, Maybe You Won't Go
To My Friend On His Deathbed
Or, Maybe You Won’t Go?
There is nothing I can do that will be any good
Nothing I can try that could save you
No herbal concoction, no medicine food
Everything stronger they already gave you
Is there time left anon a new habit to learn?
Maybe, but not its proper effect ascertain
Our time finds, invested, a decreasing return
All costs presently sunk, with no successes to claim
Yet so much of our time is, well, mundane
with the details of our little lives quite consumed
but — an imperative added to not be all in vain
that no one here can fulfill, since we are all of us doomed.
this verse was meant to somehow banish our grief & fear & sad regret:;
if as i suspect this goal remains elusive, perhaps we’ll get there yet.
Friday, November 8, 2024
Notes On The Disappearance Of The World's Insects (A Warning By A Faust)
Notes On The Disappearance Of The World's Insects
(A Warning By A Faust)
Who are you calling?
The suits are just stalling
The news is appalling
Divided we're falling
What are you buying?
The insects are dying
Your president's lying
Excusing denying
When are you starting?
The seas won't be parting
For those busy charting
How many are 🖤ing
Where are you going?
No place that's not showing
The danger that's growing
Out of money still flowing
Why aren't they stopping?
Keep on mono-cropping
Development popping
Pesticide slopping
How are you helping?
Because you'd better be helping
Because you'd better be helping
We all need to be helping
We all need to be helping
We all need to be helping
We all need to be helping
We need all of us helping
Showing and telling
Teach what you knowing
Shouting and yelling
Get up and going
Monday, October 21, 2024
Not Nihilism - a happy poem by a Faust
Not Nihilism, But Still Nothing Of Which To Be Afraid
Or,
The Secret Ingredient Is — Who's Been Messing With This Thing
———————————————————-
If I was a Q-tip where would I be
If I was a Phillip's head driver
If I were my readers what I would not squint to see
If I were a more careful MacGyver
— I remember once having my ducks in a row
My Why equaled my Ex & my Be
I'd yet to learn others could reap what I sow
Or, making me do all the harvesting, just get it — for free
After that something inside me played dead — or just hid
Convincing my innocence thorough
Of reasons (de)pressing & foolish aught of it should be rid
Which only proved much much later that —- I hadn't a clue
—Because now Joy sometime renders my world drama free,
Where perhaps not-to-Be Ifs can have Thens yet to Be —
Friday, October 18, 2024
STATE'S EVIDENCE -- a poem by a Faust
State's Evidence
----------------
the quiet girl was absent,
she ran naked down the street,
he had a photo of her running
in his jacket pocket
when they were going to search
they asked first if they could
they stopped and very deliberately
got audible consent
they went through all the pockets
one by one with gloves
eventually they found it
it justified their actions
they sealed it labeled in plastic
charged him with possession
of physical evidence of
citizen disobedience
the quiet girl was watching
from a broken skylight
huddled in a blanket
shivering but free
Saturday, August 10, 2024
Tequila Mockingbird, Or, 86 2nd Street, San Francisco: A Sonnet
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| a slight revision with the clarity of not being tipsy... |
TEQUILa MOcKINGBIRD, OR, 86 2ND STREET, SaN FRaNcIScO
THE BaRTENDER IS cOOL aS SHIT
THE DRINKS HE POURED - HELLa FULL
IF THE DaNcE FLOOR WERE MORE cOZY, IT
MIGHT NOT, IF cROWDED, DO aS WELL
IT ISN’T DIM, JUST WaRM, & DaRKENED
WITH MY KINfolk & tHeir KIND TONIGHT;
EaSILY & WELL IT HEaRKENED
aFTER WHaT ONcE MaDE THIS cITY REaL, & RIGHT —-
OF WHIcH, SINcE I KNOW PERHaPS a THING OR TWO
IN THE DEcaDES SINcE I MaDE THE BaY
I THOUGHT TO PEN THIS QUaINT REVIEW
aGaINST a FUTURE MORE FUcKED THaN TODaY
(DID I MENTION THE MUSIc HaS EXcELLENT SOUND?)
TEQUILa MOcKINGBIRD IS FINE aS THE FINEST aROUND
BY a FEMaLE FaUST (SLIGHTLY REVISED) DEDIcaTED TO
TEQUILa MOcKINGBIRD (a BaR ON 2ND STREET) ON 8/8/24
FONT: “TEQUILa MOcKINGBIRD” BY WWW.KEVINaNDaMaNDa.cOM
Thursday, July 4, 2024
Untitled
untitled
i miss you now, i missed you
when i realized you were gone
one less thing to give its due
one less worry off & on
but -- was -- & is -- a magick
in the intentioning of intent
prologemena forensic
to any future what we meant
i missed you tonight, felt it
most when 'it must be time to leave'
would a sudden appearance have melted
the perhaps of which now is bereaved
missed you -- never the -- lest
i confessed to the strange i perceive
not near close enough ever a test
still too far away to believe
verses written bathing in the rhythm,
in the dark where you are not
grateful for remembering the --
all --
the grace --
you brought
finished at 1:58 AM on Wednesday
stripped down to lingerie, red white and blue
f8, sf
July 3 2024










