Mood Poem – April 24, 2012

“A human being is a bad conductor for reality.” 

Paul Reverdy

          

 

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April eyes, a cold rain                    

& a warm steroid smell:                    

 

the keyboard                    

the candles                    

the teacup                    

the screen                    

 

Karelian whisper:                    

“Никогда, никогда…”                    

 

a window                    

a crow                     

a cloud                    

& a dream                    

 

your Karelian whisper –                     

“Никогда, никогда…”                 

  

 

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France Gall – Y’a du soleil à vendre (1968) 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12z5YBXb3k0&feature=related

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First Soviet hydrogen bomb test – Semipalatinsk, 1953 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0dUIq8gHgc&feature=related

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Peter Bies © 2012 

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Mental Echoes

“When people go insane, they are actually seeing deeper than most of us.”

– Colin Wilson, The Glass Cage

 

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 A few rats ran for an undefined mission, scurried around, their beaks open: ‘Be high!’ Their telepathic mutant brains were abruptly cut off.  Slow mental echoes continued to reverberate for several minutes in my forehead. ‘I’m getting feedback – nineteen percent!’ Eager for an opportunity to serve, the Mad Poet was very much afraid – what if he was normal again? I stood up, my ears ringing. Why nineteen percent? ‘That’s all we need,’ cried Doll Mother. Such a chance. It suggested just a slight tremor in space-time. ‘Just a tremor,’ said the Mad Poet, ‘like, present assignment done. To get out of it.’ I couldn’t believe that yarn. But the Mad Poet was staring at something, horrified. Something bright caught my eye – a wallet, spilling radioactive dollar bills. Glowing softly in the darkness they looked alien and brittle. Doll Mother saw them too. She glanced around, met my eye. We had known each other before the beginning of time.

 

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Pretty Things – LSD (1966)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXzgMQM0B-8&feature=related

 

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Peter Bies © 2012

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Protein Robots #2

“Mes cils se rapprochant […] me kaléidoscopaient les choses.”

– Paul Verlaine

 

“A linking of two realities that by all appearances have nothing to link them, in a setting that by all appearances does not fit them.

– Max Ernst 

 

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Dream up the glandular regime –                                           

our bodies wed, our bodies bled!                             

Swing fly-by past a string of pyres –                             

our bodies wed, our bodies bled!                             

Of martyred protein robot saints –                             

our bodies wed, our bodies bled!                             

 Concealed & kept alive in dreams –                       

our bodies wed, our bodies bled!                           

                       

                        

                              

 

 

   And the Mad Poet cried:

 

O sex change operators from hell –

yo
u laser the lithe & fragile types

you champion – too young & early!

 

 

Ô poète moderne!

Tes mots sont vides

comme ton cœur –

timide, timide!

 

 

O electric skin sealing 

at two dime hospital!

O New Jerusalem – !

Libidinous death wish, 

encoded in flesh bits!  – proliferate! 

 

 

 

 

 

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Scenes from Andrei Tarkovsky’s Nostalghia (1983)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEnYT-kFuGc

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Peter Bies © 2012

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