This is my playground.
THE WORKS — in Progress241 comments
Sweetness (of Fears) and Fatal Offerings
Essay De Trop
Negations elevations immersion — gives life room to fester in the sounding of its own blood.
Fear has become relegated to fertility process. (Camille steal … ?)
Fear hasnt disappeared, but its without exile.
Or fatal offerings.
Lope Pope Scope — still outline?
Scope, char — the diabolicals — all have aspects of Goya, who for some reason think of as inventor of cartoons.
The negative has become less religious body sacrificial, whose explosions at my heart, strangled in images of the beautiful and the dead, death and beauty intertwined, plenitude stuffed to matchy misreason.
Heightenings purpose lives beyond presence. Writing took over presence.
Beckett sojourned with bunnies, cryptics arose, consonants guttered game/fill hours of tossing flowers in grave, at dementing paces, swallowing raving torrents of times rebellions.
Lang bang propensity, as image righteous/riotous entombing love and death as magic tragic wire, pyro, liar.
Raises beauty to resolution of apocalyptical — granduer. Aflame with beauty time and death up against skin burning with its gape its hole and its carnage, beauty and transit.
But it was discovery of image. To catch the thiefs, sympathy with its magical traces. Magical is a word that functions with “belief.”
in and around ramp intimacy of words and muse sic arrested mind from Presley moves, stole it, stole my mind, en masse, suddenly irrevocably, from staying put.
Freud follies cant be erased.
Hell still lowers its born again traces, crime to be alive, heaven raising to wash off the rage, the price – liquidating over and over horrors of childhood.
Every inch of fatal innocence a blood relative.
Why many of poems are godawful relentless, they are suffocating they are a scouring pad taken to skin of endlessness to make holes to let blood out. To capture its terror. And even further, peel back the terror to see a relentless rejection of life.
That thing that picks at pills endlessly at every resurrection of its death. Makes love to dynamite.Continue reading
Essays as Fiction
Essays as fiction on poetic holy oil, the wily stealthy insidious perfidious sublime, and wandering around in love with particles of narrative and the seductions of rhyme.
Improvisational Fiction — Meta as Allegory
Presence & madness, desire & distance, alls & nothings. Pursues Poetic Meta Fiction (presumptuously) akin to Clarice Lispector and some Beckett. At times via Free Writing — meaning open sesame in terms of ear to la lang bang, to plosions of particles and rhyme ( finnegans wake is composed in particles). (Often referred to jokingly by people who write — as Marmalade Sky.) Searches out continuums between beauty and her monstrosities.
Poetry that Dares to Rhyme // Some more than others.
Hanging on the lane.
Flies filled my brain.
Became weary of breathing.
Pressed negations regimentals.
Smelled like angels.
Glistening with misfortune.
Prisoned, wild souls.
Parading death cries.
Looking for polygons.
Sparkling like a pen knife.Continue reading
Poems are a mix of half done and getting there.
An ongoing (beloved) horror show.
New Stuff still Uncategorized
Letters Never Sent
Free Writing — La Lang Bang
Instagram Pam’s Free Writing Slam // Pictures from all over
I call Instagram The Breezeway where I let words play, especially in the morning, let La Lang Bang filter through whatever — break in, break apart, triple play. La Lang Bang — words that lunch on a heart with gaping affection and insurrection — finding and denoting fetches relics lovely die hards // repetitions of the eternal wound as sacred with destiny.
A Post Lapsarian Archive
Issues in Meta Fizzics and Free Writing
On the Work of Others
Numinous and The Luminous
Notebooks on Philosophy
Subject and the Abject, Absolutes and the Absurd, Joy and The Sacred Precipice, Miracles and The Martyr
Index for Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files
Bel et Bien
À La Lang Bang