Posts Tagged ‘truth’



(Re-posted from another blog o’mine, slightly edited) I see through it all; this is the maxim of our time. It is more than irony, this cynicism, because it takes the conditions of its existence and itself as entirely necessary. How can there be truth, or Truth, if I can see through it. The jouissance of […]

To write, you have to be a liar. Or better; a frustrated liar. One who wants to tell the truth but is, for one reason and another, profoundly incapable. And equally incapable of keeping quiet.

this architecture howling a reverberant mauling come stick the disease in the eye of our children and play shadow puppeteering with authenticity’s stake wide is the mouth that passes this belch soothing soft focus deceptions commence rail and mono and drive belt meander a new innocence founded on the deathblood of this care not, drop […]

no waking


struggles with sleeping to know the unconscious of it but unable to awake and all those surrounding give praise to the ludicrous vacuity an ocean of banal dreams pouring into the core of molten furious but this too another way of dreaming and clawing at the surface of the paraleptic depth is the sun shining through […]



is it hope, resignation or acceptance on her face? the cards a laid and that is all. this is the foliage of a truth, a naked moment of attention to what passes and does not remain and is not yet made.

old ways


surrounded so long by teachers by guides yet swift look elsewhere the jittering fear of recognition that the all important wasn’t such that the quieter and smaller truths prevailed and missed every initiation or turn head and scoff even beloved bets turn feral all tooth towards the ones who feed and offer shelter now away […]

on writing


if the maxim ‘write ab out what you know” held any tru- -th no one would ever have pro duced a s ingle word

there is no waking not so cerebral these dribbles these fugues of language driven in nights of exhaustions palsies in the striving to know what it is to know what is from what could not be and say it . is it fear that keeps from clarity or clarity’s impossiblity a question no doubt that […]



closer than the ones now or yet to come, a mirror speaks a temple ruined in the sand. occlusion dances tiptoes all evening toned and chromium articulations that resound a steel den. little else comes weeping except with accusation as joy follows hate enraptured and encasing. we worship derelicts through hours of honest crucifixion, eager […]