Quote of the day

[luka]

Some spirits at my side still, some whisperers. Some brave ones followed beyond the boundary, would die the death with me, would aid me. Bird song here, some, even here, blithe twittering. Despite the threat to, some followed setting no store by safety. Kind singers feathered air.

Yes, I remember being alive.

I speak in different voices now. Of windhover and mudskipper and hedgerow. Of vetch and meadowsweet and clover. Of bush cricket and dormouse. Of the little, wild things.

 

[luka]

grotesque imposition struck sent sideways reeling with the impact not again.
April. And the primroses are out
pallid yellow petalled in the lawn

 

[luka]

Cup of sorrow sobbing harbinger of tears.
Sheet metal singing
rivets / tarred river, cranes, ratty wharves,
sing-song in sailors tavern.
Bellowed drunk, reeling on the slimy
cobblestones. Pickpocketed, happily, by consent, dancing a can-can,
arm over shoulder of brother-beggar, lice in the thatch, not totally
unhappy.

Not totally
Human

 

[luka]

Grief
Threatens this precarious outcrop, to be engulfed.
Hollow in the heart and holding on. Howling
and every howl unheard are you
quiet hush and save your breath
a moment passing
Breathe and settle down.

do we believe them the stories we tell ourselves
pennies in the well
that we are plastic, copper, fibreglass

and dying

 

[luka]

Brambles bindweed chainlink fence. Dog days of summer.

dandelion of stars

 

[luka]

Skies the grey of crystal, instant of ecstatic memory
Vagabond river, low companion, with the seamen and the dockers
and the beggars on the wharves.
Was it with the barges
ploughing up the water and the little boats moored and nodding
with the movement of the waves. Muscled water strident, strandent, swift surging
onrush of green river running east to sea.
To the inconsolable, dark water, eddying
Death undone so
And we are the inconsolable, kicking at the stones

 

[yyaldrin]

what is that from luka? that is great.

 

[Mr. Tea]

@luka, they're not quotes if you're just quoting yourself!

 

[luka]

@luka, they're not quotes if you're just quoting yourself!

They're really beautiful.

 

[luka]

what is that from luka? that is great.

It's from a long poem called The Feed. Skies the grey of crystal is a Rimbaud line from the illuminations.

 

[luka]

This is the Rimbaud.the bridges

Skies the gray of crystal.
A strange design of bridges,
some straight, some arched,
others descending at oblique angles to the first;
and these figures recurring
in other lighted circuits of the canal,
but all so long and light that the banks,
laden with domes, sink and shrink.

A few of these bridges
are still covered with hovels,
others support polls,
signals, frail parapets.

Minor chords cross
each other and disappear;
ropes rise from the shore.

One can make out a red coat,
possibly other costumes
and musical instruments.
Are these popular tunes,
snatches of seigniorial concerts,
remnants of public hymns?

The water is gray and blue,
wide as an arm of the sea.
A white ray falling from high
in the sky destroys this comedy

 

[luka]

consider smoothness, which, as I have explained previously, is experienced as both the absence of friction and resistance and as the inability to gain purchase, to hold on or climb out.

Smoothness is a tactile quality, we encounter it through touch (even if touch is abstracted to eye, or ear) but, in keeping with the process of dematerialisation, it offers less tactile information than the rough. It is homogeneous, exactly the same at point a as at point b.

The screen (the screen you are reading this on for instance) is smooth. The virtual space the screen is window and doorway to is likewise smooth. (although take a moment to consider the nature of the screen- both as noun and as verb, and consider also the root - from Proto-Indo-European (s)ker “to cut, divide.” The screen is, or opens out onto, an environment, but it is as much a window as it is a door, it allows access for the eye but not for the rest of the body, eyes enter where feet cannot follow- therefore the key image is of the child outside the sweet-shop window.)

 

[luka]

Relinquish the Earth-Suit. Dematerialisation is in Progress.
No more Schuman the Human. Show's cancelled people.

 

[luka]

at that level of usage it is no exaggeration to say that
SCREEN IS NOW PRIMARY ENVIRONMENT

 

[luka]

we are a conquered people.

remnants. tattered flag. have you build the wall around
this vital reliquary of only holy only left this only give up this.

die on this ruined piece of ground. tooth in the muscle. up against the physical limits of the organism.
sing, here, for me, sing
as my mother did
a song

 

[luka]

and we do. often, these errors.
and we know, each time
they cost so much more than the time before, and this
calculus there is no exit from. will you come back to us then? and from that hearth take sustenance?
i don't think so, it doesn't seem i'm ready yet

 

[luka]

in some sense of it, they know, your friends, the ones who will destroy you. it is they who
have discerned the fatal weakness, they alone who will exploit it. you before i
it is you who must go before i.
circle of crows dancing on one leg

 

[luka]

impasto light smear thick viscous sun.
Bird flight slows
wings in treacle.

Chateaubriand. The unctuous light,
Simpering through the windowpane,
Lying down on the starched linen, Ricocheting
Inside the crystal glass

 

[luka]

Pablum. fruit pastilles. Mouth full of grey dust. Mouth full of spiders webs. This,
Is the desert of entropy. Rough winds, rattle in the throat

 

[luka]

Postulate new theory of Substance. Extract the boring bits. Revolutionise
THE FIELD.

Inhabited the paradox, in the tensile space opened up by that impossibility.
The coexistence of twin contradictory truths