The Tide

Time is probably a somewhat cousin to The Tide.
Not conforming to a traditional cause/effect relationship –
But to a modern one in fact.
They know each other well.
Somewhat as if they’ve been part of the same book club for centuries.
One big book like group,
with one big variety of book-likenesses.

It’s clear that they would have common interests.
You see, they both flow,
up – down
fill and empty
but they manage to remain as separate beings.
In a healthy relationship of sorts.

Though, Time is a sneaky bastard.
Or at least he certainly can be.
Occasionally he back stabs you when you least expect it
(By occasionally I most likely mean always,
but not always does it really matter)
and mischievously so.

Time can make one feel foreign,
but not in the way a foreigner feels foreign.
No, Time does this by reminding you of The Past
(an old lover we all share and swap around like swingers)
and the memory of The Past is in such detail
that you relive it for a brief moment.
And the cruellest part of the memory
is the bit – the feeling –
of the future unknown.

So Time does well to remind you
of the difference between the memory and The Past.
He does this with delicacy
making sure you feel that feeling of the unforeseen.
A feeling that can only be felt now.
The feeling that yesterday didn’t allow you to imagine where you could be today,
the feeling that was not so troublesome or noticeable at that time,
the feeling that today has made you wish you had in fact noticed yesterday.
A feeling The Tide, a rudimentary clone to Time,
can only make a metaphorical visualization of.

Robotic God

The giant robotic god
whose 14 navy blue crane-like fingers
point upwards from deep bellow the earth.
upwards – up towards
the organic, white spotted, baby blue, celestial optical illusion.

how far do his fingers extend?
how far down is his body buried?

His presence –
an invisible influential force of manipulation.
His non-electrical core made of
circuitry from an ancient civilization –
left irreparably unrepairable.

is the deterioration of his patience the cause of The Rumbling?
the cause of this rumbling?

An eerie premonition looms,
just beneath the surface of The Blue,
in an intangible, crystal clear,

The sudden anticipation of an apocalypse:
An apocalypse isolated to O.N.E.
The Arrival of The Doors of Limit –
the unnamed terminal stop,
of the jet that gently brushed past one of the robotic god’s fingers.

Immediately, a jumbled pile of thought waves are emitted.
In the form of bird cries.
In the form of blasting wind.
In the form of speeding auto mobiles.

Will there be silence?


From here, the back light of the window in the distance gives you a sort of silhouette
Slightly skewed in shape and gold in color.
Radiant, or no, more so vibrant.
A nice contrast to your pitch black hair and charcoal suit.
Elegance, in a very masculine form
In a very rough and soft demeanor.
From here, I can still make out your gestures
Uniquely slow and careful.
Well suited to your comical sarcastic nature.
Well adapted to your slender, square figure.
Creating a type of visual balance;
Mesmerizing and hypnotic.
From here, you seem much taller than when you are up close.
Perhaps it's from the comparison of your surroundings.
I want to capture this image.
Make it tangible.
To hold it in my hand, throw it up in the air, and catch the sense of tranquility I feel.
The calm, frozen and separate from time and change.
Grey, dark, and soothing.
From here, the silence is present.
It is a heavy silence.
It is rhythmic.
It is louder than the music gently blasting from the cubes hung on the walls.
The silence caused by paused time.
Making it pass all the more quickly without even slightly indicating that it has gone.
Leaving only the ghost of your golden silhouette behind in memory.

Bar Poems


Dim Blue

Moldy Black
and Soggy Red

the sort of noise that makes pure silence deirable.

A scattering mouse
and distant voices,
The smell of lime
and dusty cinammon.

a continous countdown til the stroke of dawn. 



Behind the group of unknown faces 
porting Jewlery and Fabric from a distant world,
A square patch of grey sun light
beneath two sets of bars can be seen.

A long lamp and flower vase disrupts my view.
A red velvet curtain masks the light.
The weekly dose of sunlight,
seen at 200 meter distance.


The cold moist city gifts the sunrise view
every morning after 7 or so hours.
Question: Is the grey ancient city preferable?
"It is definitely desired, as it is well lit"
But does that come only from remembrance? 
The discomfort of an unfamiliar faded long ago.
But an unpleasant difference remains.

A routine somehow slowly abandoned.

A habit somewhere lost.

"I left that hat i loved on that bus one day"
If I buy the same one again, 
would it be replaceable?
"That sameness may be possible,
but the other may not be"

Exercise in H.N.


REGISTER/ED/ING  ______________________________
                                (insert noun or pronoun here)



Pickles and Oranges

Your black and white spotted nose directs itself towards the table with utmost curiosity, enthusiasm, and hope.

Wooden Table

Nick Cave & The Bad Seed is making you Bark. She comments that you never used to like him much.


One wonders why this particular date multiplies repeatedly on various kitchen floors.


Glass of Water

Tender scalp, and a slight stinging headache from the passing day.

Faure Oven

The residue of accumulated oils over the black knob inspires an urge to clean the 23m2 perimeter.



The date on the carton misleads.

LoZosky 9


An impulse to relate all


which abstract semblance 

hues Hide


our arranges made 

as frequent changes

of human values


We induce Equal

unspoken loom

things reflect in our imprecision -

gold at no gain

sigh fixed upon gain

Value erected on prevision

value disparate decision


Scotland 145


anybody has

the same name

as nobody 




No two alike

The Pier Conversation


It is a readymade of confounding orthodoxies, a sensitivity

between contextual frames that ambush assertion - like billboards.

"When you know, you know"


Your generic matter is friction floating invisibly and constantly,

within this monochrome space

surrounded by anonymous discourse

abstracted in didactic haze.


A collectivist invite into a repressive

structure of projections of assumptions of dominant ideology

mediated through, appropriated by, experienced in

our tacit multiplicity of micro-contexts.


History is now appropriated

each instance of exchange needs to be examined

slowing things down

everything ambiguous to negotiation

everything foreign to compromise

everything now new public exhaust


"Like playing a game with someone

who doesn't know they're playing"

in this strong,equally strong,

relation of hypocritical expression.


The Origins of Pleasure


0:15 i'm going to talk

3:00 it wasn't him

3:28 why does this matter?

4:31 so i want to suggest that 

pleasure is deep.


5:06 what's more interesting

Is how it tastes to you.

5:34 how do u get

6:17 or take sex

7:21 (laughter)

7:23 a particularly dramatic example is

9:07 this attraction to objects

15:28 and pain under the right circumstances can transform into pleasure

16:03 (applause)


Alphabet of Flame: 4


The old,

The tired, 

The ruined,

Got done in 

By bits.

Lunch Poems



The act of rejecting.



Tacky Train surroundings

thoughts on transsexual transitions,

television trendiness,

and the trucks.




No Art,


No work,


No time.



Technological creations

Will lead to our

Immanent Destruction



This continuous sickness

of mine

that makes

everything I eat

smell and taste the


Will drive me mad.

Life Drawing

One wonders What... SHE
thinks as she examines each of us, with her light eyes, closely;
Like a predator hunting it's ignorant PREY.
Yet I, the beholder, can only see her as
lines_._ Lines that bendMold, and
MERGE together, Placing emphasis on Form,
Tone, + Structure. But from the Predator, what do
We, the unstructured, yet-to-be-artists...
What Do We Look Like?

A.K.A. Mr. Fixer Upper


“I don’t know” — “I don’t believe him.”

A construction worker (on/over/under) wax feet.


Fig garland crowns ­—

Abandoned plastic bottles

— Hogarth.


An empty canvas awaiting. [Are aquariums designed for fish?]No answer is found in news papers. Only the giving tree will solve the mystery.

Work. No, work.

The most un-conceptual plan or chaos; Neither true, norfalse, nor half-truth.

Complain about complaining about, nothing.

“Can he find a reason to complain?” —  I don’t know.


Masters Of...



(that of master)

must take part asthe iniciate

who, revolving arounda legendary in the temple,

relys on thevenerable one to bring him back to life.


and he isconsidered





documents, texts,marks, images

Hidden Truths

store, listen,classify

ImmeasurableFlows of Information






Introdution ,

To the SpirtualCommunity.




Absorbtion ofsubstances

To temporarilyleave the teresstrial.





Masters of — TheOccult


Notes in P Minor




of emotions, of feelings, of delusions


Expectations - paranoia


Wh. At (?)


Never learning

Over and over

Never understanding

Again and again

Never ending

From me - thought - intentions

Still? Still.

Boring, uninteresting, sickening, numbing

"Drives me nuts" "makes me crazy" "turns me insane"

Can T, can't, can not


 - K.C.U.F. -



Will - before

Nothing - after They.

Between - inbetween - under - over

Just make it worse

Just make it end

Just make it again


Stop, cancel, delete, erase


Pause, rewind, insert, break


Enter, ok, return, play






egg chicken egg chicken egg


Pleasantries vs. Anger

Perfection • Imperfection


x Unattainable Perfection x


Perspiration, Fluid, Warmth

Creativity [of/in/like]

Touching an image

Tasting a thought

Smelling an ideal

Custom. Comfort. Habit.



Chang E


Predominant routines -

Habitual exchanges -

Redundant activities -


Put to rest,




Metaphysics and Paris

Actuality and Potentiality


Segment 3, Universal Science:

On the subject of change:

1) For milk to become cheese at time T, it must have been not-cheese before T. 2) If milk was not-cheese before T then, at T, a cheese came into existence from nothing. 3) From nothing, nothing can be derived 4) If milk cannot become cheese at T, then change is impossible.

And a response to that observation could be:

1) What is required for change to occur is that there be something before, during and after the change -- that which undergoes change. 2) If milk is the thing, which undergoes change at T, then cheese does not come into existence at T, milk simply changes from being not-cheese to being cheese. 3) It is not just from being not-cheese that milk changes to being cheese, (because being not-cheese is a nonentity). Milk is able to change to being cheese at T only if milk had a specific capacity or potentiality to become cheese before T.*

And now that’s started you thinking…

* This entire text is a substitution/modification of a segment of Being qua Being - Aristotle’s Metaphysics, Charles Echelbarger, OSWEGO State University of NY.

Epistomology and Paris

Justified true belief.


If one takes the simple formula:

That I know what you know because you know what I know and we know what we know because they show us that I know what you know because I know you know what I know and they all know we know too.

And apply it to the context of Paris then one can easily conclude:

That the French know what they know because other French people know what the French know and all French people know what all other French people know because they show fellow French people that other French people know what the French know because the French know that other French people know what fellow French people know and all the French know what every other French person knows too.


How is it that I came to know what you know? Is it because you know what I know and we know what we know because they show us that I know what you know because I know you know what I know and they all know we know too?


How is it that the French came to what they know? Is it because other French people know what the French know and all French people know what all other French people know because they show fellow French people that other French people know what the French know because the French know that other French people know what fellow French people know and all the French know what every other French person knows too.

So if I am French, does that mean that I know what the French know too? Yet still, how do we all know what we know?