World Of White Trash - El mundo de la basura blanca: The Simple Poetry of Sleep

World Of White Trash - El mundo de la basura blanca

3/10/2005

The Simple Poetry of Sleep



The simple poetry of sleep
Enclosed in the hand held absenceOf narrative time
Who would dareTo call it a mistake
If the words were not forthcoming
All the evidence of life was there anyway
Slightly askew diagrammatic evocation of a galaxy
Something felt like it wanted to come into existence
And then chose to wait and let it happen
Compelled to listen for the presence of mystery
What was satisfied caused to descend polyphonicallyAbetted by the implication of vocable soundHeard between random intervals of meaningVoices rising in chromatic insignificant phrasesAgainst the lapping of specific waves
Minute portions brush granite aural forms
Density glitters between vibrant afterimages
In a world of green vegetation and brown arid hillsVery close to the sea
The obscure aberrations of flora and fauna
Astonished the oceanographers
The infinite variety of evolving forms
The immensely long natural tracks between wooded hills
The mere suggestion of lunar ridges and shadows
Added a strangely silent atmosphere to the now faded photographs
Of this non-event in space and timeWhich existed only in its virtual state
These were actual pockets of reality
Embedded in a completely hypothetical situation
Of which all the emblems, significations, symbols and signs
Were utterly verbal in formThe horizon-its mask, its secret peripheryAt the closest zone of its solitude
Pressing its ultimate, final realizationIn a position contrary to its margin
The poem is intrinsic to the machine
The notes have a duration which correspondsTo the illuminated objects bright as they are
Over aeons become their signs And when the distances contract at their maximum velocity
Time is almost completely under the influence
Of all those forces which are precursors to events
The oldest trees and the youngest stars
Have been talking a long time
The unwinking hills, the apostrophes of small pathsSlowly take their places on the constellations of language
The commentaries spoken in computerized tongues
The soft technology improvised within the logarithmic systemOf substitutions and exchangesOf concepts and energy
by Nick Piombino

2 Comments:

At 3:53 PM, Blogger Jozee said...

This is a very moving picture.

Tres erotique.

Perfect imagery for the poem.

JZ

 
At 5:21 PM, Blogger henri Banks said...

this thougt was also in my mind when i layed down on the flowers

 

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