the unknowable transforming point 411/415

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass

With biro medium

There now the sky a deeper blue and brighter sun
and run with the pen now after days of typing
thinking to edit away some here some there of the precious little letter bundles
and thinking twice to keep what’s there and only small corrections
if in when in the tension shoulders
and slow motion next
undercurrented the distant sound of a radio
or some one trying to play something instrumental
airplane hum high hum and car passing glide
dove singing little loop of 5
get song lyrics and interlace imaginary resolutions perspectives
developing simultaneous constructions
and deconstructions writing with biro medium and so forth

Fast downhill come on

This is the end
river over me
this canvas etc
try also thing of running simultaneously side by side
in the meanwhile
a refreshment of dynamic
hoot car and fast downhill come on

Ever ink saga

The lime coloured lampshade with large magenta leaf
leapt at the chance to contribute to this ever ink saga
lilliana in particular agreed with this
and lifted her mobile phone
texting with her right to lindy
while practising double thirds chromatic with her left
make it snappy
you need to write me a story or not # lilliana
but # lindy i’ve run out of letters
use your fridge magnets # lilliana
don’t be so facetious # lindy
my fridge magnet will go on strike
do I look as if I give a ficfuc # lilliana
it’s basically conceptual
you mean you me and the lampshade with haiku interludes
compliments of my fridge magnets # lindy
well what’s wrong with that he he he # lilliana
och why don’t you get back to your practise # lindy
mmmm # lilliana and by the way dear
get the song lyrics cut and paste
may be better than separate columns
also repeat streams
like the idea
or different word loops than the ones already set
changing the sense of meaning might be nice
good possibilities
sea of textures tapestry interlacing words along lines
rhythm and get the movement flowing jiving across closed doors
no punctuation bar lines or phrasing
just don’t look now
these soft pages and interims on the other screen
hands on the biggest piano keys soft keys
taking care not to take the wrong turn right
that seems to make more sense than cutting and shredding
and point click tap deleting
move it on up and notch and keep left
the giantess too with broonie words patterns
mathematically ordered to numbers
of original compositional choices
seventeens and twenty three
and better the absolute zero you know
what time do you call this # a sleepy wafer
2am # lindy
i’ve been inventing a bedtime tale to help lilliana
with her insomnia actually
and its’ unfolding took this long
ay that’ll be right # wafer
well # lindy as she passed him a her usb flash bay
loch lomond wafer card
stick that in your laptop and smoke it
ok ok right # wafer
but it would be some long time before wafer perused said gadgetry
it’s repetitions vernacular and fairies left him stretching
for the latest digital camera photo stats and specs
day day turn light and grey
rook room clacks and busy road
park in the way of embarrassment
and don’t forget to ask if your piano is in the way
excuse me # lindy is my piano mind in the way
does it clash with your stereotypical ideology visions and perpetuities
does it turn your mind in a self defensive contextual shunt
excuse me silences and long lines
does your will clash with the smell of biro ink of ronika
who is ronika # wafer
she keeps butting in
well why don’t you ask her # lindy
maybe she’s the authoress looking back through the word mirror
figment of the copious imaginary word waves and currents
what # wafer
ok I’ll ask her at least text her # lindy
hello or no delete
hi there ronika
we in the chink and the giantess
just wanted to know who you are
later on a message from ronika
hello the chink and the giantess
thank you for your text
the answer to your question who are you etc is
I don’t know
I’ve asked myself this question so many times
sometimes I think I’m me and sometimes not
more and even most often I just don’t know
specially in the morning and before 2 pm
sometimes at that time there’s a chink
but that depends on whether I sleep or not
if I get woken up
at the 1st bbc radio 4 LW shipping forecast
then forget it
if I sleep all the way to the 2nd sf
I might have some clarity
ping new message
lindy the chink and the giantess protagonists
eagerly read the above
and some strange blank expressions
wriggled across their forehead lines wormeries
eyes turned up to the missing weather vane
minus filler
well ok # lindy by return
but are you the authoress
I don’t know # ronika
it is entirely possible as I often put pen to paper
sometimes writing dots and symbols
over and on paper with 5 line and 4 space staves
romanticas and visions
and sometimes spreading silvine pages
with simple grey lines and red margins
with words that everybody knows
in different orders and combinations
according to inner tidal surges and electromagnetic fields
as to whether I would have written the words you mention
ie the chink and the giantess
I could not be certain
ah# lindy
I rather think this is a matter of opinion
clearly if one sits at a blank page
and word waves ebb and scratch squirt scribble
it must be the case that the resulting
word fictives and fabulations
belong to the owner of the pen or paper
who is presumably present at that particular tick of the clock
ronika at this sound stage becomes bored and detached
and runs for dreamy tunnels
not so fancy such cross patch questioning precision
with microwave exposure
the girl in the piano room beckons with fore finger
or is she waving in a different language
there amongst the collonades and red wine uncertainties
amorphous incantations and fast finger while the cats away
into these tight corners and nano moments are placed
the translucent shards that jigsaw together
and complete imaginary landscapes years later
and later when nothing is clear and everything is clear
did you ever hear from ronika again # wafer
much later on
ooh- I’d forgotten about her # lindy
the answer is no actually
so you never did find out
if she had anything to do with the c and the g # wafer
em no I don’t suppose I really did # lindy
but what if you wanted to publish it in some shape or form
you know on youtube or one of these book places
with or without music # wafer
well I had not thought about that # lindy
it can hardly be anon though can it and
there was a wee tune bit
what did you think of it btw
em oh yeah I’ve forgotten
I’ll have to read it again # wafer
really # lindy
with a downward pitch
I bet you never read it in the first place
it depends what you mean by read
# wafer
and which part of read do you not understand # lindy
and with that she too retires to the piano room
by this time with large picture window
overlooking pastures safely grazed and river bed
and sporting luxurious hand made artistically braced library shelving and sound proofing
tap tapping the hammer over the street roof repairs
cars cars pass up and down
reflecting thru lindy’s window
where she’s selfing at her keyboard
giving the impressions she’s waving or beckoning
could she be finally catching up with ronika
writing and plumbing imaginary depths
while the outside veranda rusts and resonates before the machine
and confirming her responsibility
for the word frets and phrases
in the preceding processions
up to the 10th floor of 10 and back
och ronika is the least of it # wafer eventually
I’m with the giantess
the story is her’s
I suppose you could say that because of the dream
but I still think someone earthly on this earth
has to take responsibility # lindy
with postlude deconstructionism setting in
well what if you copyright it eh
ronika probably won’t mind
she’s imaginary yeah # wafer
mmm # lindy

Beidermeier bergere

Well I suppose that could have been all about it
all things considered by the water and stream
in a field of black daisies
and whatever other sound bite could push itself in
under a now greying sky
lindy sank safely down into
her great grandmother’s beidermeier bergere
which had always been referred to as the love seat
and had been given to her gg years once upon a time ago
by her best friend ethel who had moved away
to a place called westbury on trym
in a town called bristol
and forgot all about it
as silence 4’33” fell over the piano room
a schumann intermezzo still imperceptibly resonating feral and romantic
under fingers under water under hand
gently conversing with the large strong supermarket bag
placed openly on a contemporary bench mark table
it’s contents not having been subjected to musak
but absorbed in the sooth electrical whirs of ventilations
gentle shoppers conversing and hum of fridge units
a little like a stockhausen mantra minus the ring modulator flowing glides
and deep in the forest
correct flow of pen and paper crank up the ficfuc
which despotism soon plumbs imaginary depths
of the key storm chink

Bunuel by the piano

The telephone and it’s relationship to the piano room under dusk
how can postmodernity approximate the resulting contextual glyphs
horizontally preluding the empty sound mind
if left to itself it can accumulate volcanically
caller display defense shield
wait till later till the fuss has died down
how sound boards wish them dead or alive
when grooved into dialogues kontaktes full of egoic gestures
a wire pulled out of it’s socket on a alternate eve
and the participating pianist recapitulating resignedly
there was the likelihood that the caller would never understand
how to stop gyrating in mirror self
flashing symphonies of sympathy to a perceived loser
the shadow of the bright sky real sun up
in the full moon brightness
arriving later at two pianos near you
the defender of the defensive risks
risks let take risks
to alienate the poor dick who did all the donkey work
in the first andalou by the way all piano go
dali and bunuel by the piano way
what it’s about that
this and the les adieux that the art of europe didn’t underestimate


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