vrijdag 15 augustus 2014

an alphabet for my love

                                             Angora sweaters I will knit, the one of the goat not of the rabbit
                                             Astrakhan hats I will distribute, the wool variety not the fur
                                             For in my mouth a lump ginger
                                             This is how I will wander through the surrounding villages, 
                                             with woven into my flag the invisible image 
                                             of the ladydog I love

                                             Brittle the bones 
                                             that bleached by the sun and the salt water tell tales 
                                             about arrival and departure
                                             Old these bones 
                                             (:old related to the time that the still breathing skin was exposed to the dry seasons)
                                             Ah ships sail and ships founder

                                             Cookies we now have in abundance
                                             The paper that seemed white turns out to be purple, the paper that seemed purple turns out to be red
                                             My yard faces the north, but you won't hear me complain
                                             Every day I cry, but you won't hear me complain
                                             I am happy with my true love;
                                             sweeter than the honey in the cookies,
                                             clearer than the most perfect dream
                                             I have a bottom that no tear penetrates, solid as the pre-terrestrial mystery

                                             Dry granules burst through dry skins
                                             They fell like bullets, crushing the young grass that took the place of the removed weeds
                                             Many dry seasons followed after many dry seasons
                                             And then the bursting of the skins
                                             The soft earth was covered with a protective crust; 
                                             coarser than sand, finer than gravel, inaccessible to the insect

                                             Easy eating restrains the sharpness of my tongue
                                             When I was young yes 
                                             (:young related to the times that the circle of lilies was closed in by common plantain) 
                                             surplus happened outside my field of vision
                                             Although there was not a day without food, there never were any sweets
                                             Through her I have become familiar with sweets
                                             When she was young yes 
                                             (:young related to the color of her lips) 
                                             her tongue was softer than any artificial surrogate can be
                                             Thank you Darling, yes you

                                             Finding fossils in poisonholes and poisonhills can no longer enchant us
                                             Where the temptation of danger ran away from me? There, 
                                             where it proved possible to stand still without being fixated
                                             When it ran away from me? Then, 
                                             when sleeping became parallel living
                                             Why it ran away from me? Because of the tranquility
                                             With me my true love
                                             Abundance became the absolute
                                             So for my entertainment I no longer need any sublimates and substitutes
                                             Thank you Darling, you my true love

                                             Yes I have it good
                                             The shutters frozen tight in the window panes
                                             The rabbit hutch covered with a cashmere scarf
                                             As far as my eye reaches my senses are inside; 
                                             my selves have coiled up, my I`s have stretched
                                             See the palm of my hand: empty
                                             See the pupils of my eyes: transparent
                                             The ice is in the pot, the pot is on the fire
                                             It took a while, but I have it good
                                             Yes I have it good

                                             Hunger, is the name of the mask that hangs out to dry behind the wall behind the barn 
                                             on the leafless right branch of the blossoming plum tree
                                             Last spring this branch needed cutting badly, but proved too heavy for the cutter 
                                             and the teeth of the saw too blunt too blunt
                                             Whereas the teeth of the mask sharp as razors
                                             The shapes of stalactites the colors of stalagmites 
                                             they crawl against the light of the thundery sky, 
                                             they remain nestled in the lipless mouth; 
                                             the fifth hole in the supple rubber skin
                                             The shape of a heart the color of milk 
                                             it guides love inside
                                             The mask is called hunger, as it is supposed to be able to swallow hunger
                                             So never no more do I leave it outside during the night, because, 
                                             thunder or not, before the moon has any shape 
                                             it hangs in a circle of a hundred emaciated dogs, who, 
                                             as if with one voice, howl a nerve tearing howl

                                             Intimate the bond 
                                             between love and love; 
                                             two way vessels fully open, 
                                             alternating directions, flowing flowing
                                             Tangible illusion the bond, 
                                             nourishing spell, 
                                             sensuous delight

                                             Juggling with balls of young leather 
                                             (:young related to the number of days and nights that the still breathing skin yearned for the mother touch)
                                             Jubilee rings alternate with rattle clubs; they whirl about as wounded lampoons in the gold yellow lights
                                             My head is turning; a movement dictated by the mad muscles of my neck
                                             My eyes register little detail and when I close them the muscles remain active
                                             A moonsick madness
                                             Can they have it all? And what about us? Are our senses not sensible? 
                                             The sensitive spot on my head seems as thin-skinned as an anterior fontanelle
                                             No, it is not funny at all to have to witness the dazed enthusiasm, with which the artificial inability is received
                                             Can I please disappear a moment? Ten seconds of oblivion in this cauldron of swirling exhaustion, is that too much to ask? 
                                             The monotonous drone had a beginning and so will have and end
                                             In anticipation of this, it is the touch of the bird I yearn for

                                             Kind clothes, to unlearn being covered
                                             My house with garden here is a shelter for the threatened creatures who cannot afford an outside space
                                             Marked outcasts; genetically selected at plant level
                                             But aren`t they the lucky ones, who by knowing the boundaries of their space know the boundaries of their course in life? 
                                             In my house with garden here reigns the silence of the animal

                                             Love moves tail-wagging in the center of my existence
                                             I feel for the poor in spirit, who do not recognize the animal on their plates
                                             What is understandable is being strangled, just so the poor in land can be taken by the hand
                                             Is the seed weighing heavier than the harvest? 
                                             Love moves tail-wagging in the center of my existence
                                             I feel for the rich in gold, who are dying to give their preservability as pawn, 
                                             but no one is bidding for it
                                             My enthusiasm goes to her who can turn as a whirligig without getting dizzy
                                             My applause goes to her, who is capable of moving across matters
                                             Yes I mean you Darling

                                             Made by hand, the containers
                                             At these temperatures, the periodical bubbling of the potions can be heard
                                             Their presence is reassuring, although it has been long since they lost the little power they possessed
                                             Could this be the reason, why these colors that nestle in my retina make me a little wild?

                                             Natural-normally spoken, creatures who co-vibrate with a certain geo-vibration settle in this or that location
                                             And thus natural-normally spoken, in this or that location a natural-normal community is created
                                             Sharing the weather is more
                                             At my current location, the weather rules the way of living
                                             Only the bell tower lives with the watch
                                             It seems to me that this bell is one of those that is operated by hand; at any rate 
                                             in the morning it is chimed longer and more vigorous than in the evening
                                             My stay here is temporary, and that is why I keep some distance from local customs that don`t agree with me
                                             I hasten to say that here these are significantly less than in many other places 
                                             where in the course of my life I made my nest
                                             Periods also each have, natural-normally spoken, a different vibration
                                             For creatures who co-vibrate with the period-vibration the terrestrial existence feels more like home, I suppose, 
                                             than for whom this is not the case
                                             Thank you Darling

                                             Once upon a time there was a time when there was no train crossing, no train, no railroad track
                                             So in this period a train crossing, a train, a railroad track never provided the scenery for a death scene
                                             This example extends to many
                                             Everyone dies a characteristic death
                                             Each dying is an unraveling of a life
                                             Each life is an expression of an entity in a certain period at a certain place
                                             Which makes this life also an expression of a period and a place
                                             Suicide literally means killing oneself; words that, according to my insights, are not connected to the act for which they stand
                                             Each dying is a departure like any other
                                             Each life is a fully fledged life
                                             Can I deal with this silence? 
                                             Yes no doubt about it, I let myself go

                                             Pontifically forward with my tale
                                             Co-vibrating with one vibration or another
                                             And being able to have at one`s disposal the experiences gathered 
                                             by one vibration in this shape at this location, 
                                             or another vibration in that shape at that location 
                                             This might give one the feeling of being reincarnated, 
                                             for by co-vibrating one has at one`s disposal memories that aren`t one`s own

                                             Quarantine stations are available
                                             It is not always easy to find the place with which one co-vibrates
                                             My house with garden here is a shelter for the wanderlights, that have a hard time 
                                             getting their feeling of home someplace else
                                             So for those who occupy the margins without ever moving up to the center
                                             But there, in their twisting grammar, they do speak a clear language
                                             At least I am fond of expressing myself in it; 
                                             getting myself transported by its lyrical qualities or letting myself fall into the further reaching perspectives

                                             Racer Darling you, yes from any place you race to me, as soon as my mayday reaches you
                                             This is a few times a couple of times a day
                                             With what ease you parry terrestrial circumstances; they do not harm you, as simple as that
                                             That is how independent you are
                                             A vibration, a known vibration, a vibration that resonates in me

                                             See the traces of extraterrestrial beauty
                                             in terrestrial organisms that retain the quality to be able to move in spheres where time and space are no factors
                                             A beauty that is characterized by a concentration 
                                             in which interior is in balance with exterior 
                                             is in balance with exterior 
                                             is in balance with interior
                                             Yes Darling, you-then

                                             Tears Darling
                                             Also a few times a couple of times a day
                                             Not because you are gone, for you are not gone; 
                                             close as always, permeating all of me
                                             Not because you have changed, for you are not different; 
                                             surprising as always, changing inside of wholly you
                                             Tears of wonder, 
                                             that you came and come and will come
                                             For yes, you are wondrous
                                             Tears of emotion, 
                                             caused by being in touch with the truth
                                             For yes, you are the truth

                                             Utmost care, it took my Uttermost Precious, utmost patience, but I blossomed
                                             And the fruits Darling, oh for free and in the finest casing I would hand them out and spread them over the whole wide world
                                             But that is not how it works, does it Sweetie, no that is not how it works
                                             Thank you Utmost Precious

                                             Vast freedom
                                             Unity in my destination
                                             At all times a space where I feel at home
                                             So free
                                             A space in which 
                                             all the hustle and bustle of how and what vanishes, 
                                             a smile graces my face, 
                                             my hands are full
                                             And my nerves give a free passage to my blood, so that warmth flows through me
                                             Yes Darling, you are the truth, you are freedom, you are love
                                             Yes, truth is freedom and freedom is love and love is truth

                                             When the storms deregulate the voltage of the electric current 
                                             and when the frosts unsettle the water supply 
                                             and it is evening and the shutters are closed, 
                                             then I kindle the candle that barely gives any light, 
                                             so that our room does not lose its outlines while I do mine

                                             X-Y we skip and the others we double: 
                                             All Beast Cream Doodoo Eternal Free Gorgeous Honey Intimate Jewel Kiss Love Magic 
                                             NCC Ocean Pelala Quietude Ravishing Strong Tender Utmost Velvet Wise Zigzag
                                             You, NCC

                                             Zero talking Darling, when being with you, feels so good too
                                             Sharing the silence together
                                             When I am aware of you, you are with me
                                             And when you are with me, I am aware of you
                                             Which comes first? 
                                             Given my experience I am inclined to conclude 
                                             that my awareness follows your presence 
                                             and not the other way around
                                             Thank you Darling

© mc 2003-2014

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