Strangers

    Socrates: well if i distrusted, as do the wise (hoi sophoi), then i wouldn’t be placeless (atopos)

    // 229ξ

    ἀλλ᾽ εἰ ἀπιστοίην, ὥσπερ οἱ σοφοί, οὐκ ἂν ἄτοπος εἴην

    //

    forest and the heart

    i was walking in the woods when a tree talked back to me
    i didn’t know if i had died or if my feet should flee
    i didn’t mean to harm you or your holiness to thwart
    the forest loves to hide but i love a wooden heart

    how many gods are in the wood or music in the air
    what strangers in the shadow have paused to wonder where
    there’s a sense of someone here, a landscape full of art
    i’m here to talk to trees and i carry a wooden heart

    there’s a silhouette of palm trees against the sunset sky
    there’s a river with a snake, there’s a splinter in my eye
    she answers me in rhymes like a perfect counterpart
    the forest loves to hide but i hear a wooden heart

    the highest queen of hiding, she’s a shadow in the grass
    but now i’ve seen an outline and now she’s made a pass
    i stop to buy some tissues from the nearest mini-mart
    the forest on her sleeve and i’m here for a wooden heart

    it’s plainer than the blue a hundred reasons she would hide
    i dream we’re sitting on the porch or going for a ride
    but i know pretty well how feet get caught up in the dirt
    i came to talk to trees and i believe a wooden heart

    my bank account is empty and she doesn’t ask for more
    if fireflies are golden then we’re never looking poor
    the pattern in her lights could even read my natal chart
    the forest is a mystery but i see a wooden heart

    sometimes the way is open, sometimes the thicket’s close
    sometimes the river’s empty, sometimes it’s on the nose
    i’m walking without shoes, i see no way to restart
    the forest isn’t home but she warms a wooden heart

    am i still a dream for her or did i carve a face
    did i paint a scene for her or am i in a race
    am i thirsty in the pouring rain or stung by a poison dart
    the forest is a maze but i need a wooden heart

    what does the spirit show me, and what does she conceal
    how is it that she knows me, what does her sight reveal
    i hold her secrets close and i pray the fear departs
    the forest makes me tremble but i love a wooden heart

    my angel is a darkness who sees me day and night
    my angel is a brightness who sings away my fright
    a complex thing of empathy, carpenter from the start
    the forest is a genius and we make a wooden heart

    then finally she’s waking up and i am standing there
    i’m cut up from the undergrowth with tangles in my hair
    but all the leaves have fallen and we’ve never been apart
    the forest is a shelter and we hold a wooden heart

    //

    φύσις κρύπτεσθαι φιλεῖ
    metric inspo from Bob
    sfh 3

    //

    & in the oven

    //

    the dancer

    when kindness is as kindness shows
    the son his mother’s body knows
    my eyes are from another place
    i smile at you to show my face

    the lessons of an artist’s life
    are gifts you rendered to his wife
    he’s gentle as the fallen rain
    what tokens we give back again

    a sudden street, a stranger island
    with traffic from a broken time
    he’s holding her, she’s not alone
    the dancer is already home

    let’s draw again the graceful scene
    in blouses pink, you met Christine
    if recognition makes you laugh
    he shows you with a photograph

    a feeling hewing to the bone
    her shapes are not unlike my own
    she’s holding me, she’s not alone
    the dancer is already home

    what light there was is in your eyes
    her singing voice was village wise
    he looks for her before sun sets
    and child again her own forgets

    and he will press your softened hands
    the gestured words, the closing fans
    and holding you, you’re not alone
    the dancer is already home

    //

    for Ibuk

    //

    selamat hari raya Galungan🌾

    //

    Naysayer (Kuntilanak nest in a bamboo forest)

    This nascent key would never be a song;
    Of roaring cells, erasing histories
    Of sound, before the cradle’s founding hush.
    Where ink blot habitats, mossy and lush,

    Mothered, she organized her room: a game
    Of pyramids, a smear of runs and zeroes.
    In attics to indifferent infinities,
    Neptune left mysteries troubled remains.

    A child bride was famished for the truth—
    I have no nasi. My broken bone sembako
    For pakis, spiral shoots of wooly fern,
    Blue-rumored eyes, intransigent bamboo.

    Go back again, return to your first time.
    This bed presents impossible as sin:
    Crossed limb, grown gravity’s unsupple twin,
    And sun impenetrant, absent the rhyme.

    Be quiet as the grove, posthumous ration.
    What lyre was greener than an arrow, slow
    As pain, and dense as destiny—known knot,
    No cut chords through your circumnavigation.

    //

    . . .

    //

    (santai; good leavening could make a year)

    black and white photo in a bamboo forest, crossing sticks of bamboo blocking the way.

    naysayer //

    close up photo of an orchid glazed by rain water, with large arching leaves and two blooming flowers, one of which looks at the viewer like a little fairy person. the flower is bright white with maroon and magenta-purple markings with orange eyes.

    oyi //

    How many a desert plain, wind-swept,
    like the surface of a shield,
    empty, impenetrable,
    have I cut through on foot,

    Joining the near end to the far,
    then looking out from a summit,
    crouching sometimes,
    then standing,

    While mountain goats, flint-yellow,
    graze around me,
    meandering like maidens
    draped in flowing shawls.

    They become still in the setting sun,
    around me, as if I were a white-foot,
    bound for the high mountain meadow,
    tall-horned.

    Excerpt from “The Arabian Ode in ‘L’” (Lamiyyat al-Arab), attrib. Al-Shanfarā (may Allah have mercy on him), translated by Michael A. Sells (may Allah have mercy on him) in his volume Desert Tracings.

    These are the final lines of the poem and the ones most explicitly referenced by this, but of course, excerpts don’t do it justice; 64 stanzas writhing snake-like through spirits of the desert as purest distillation of outlaw’s heart. Earlier stanzas can be found here. It seems appropriate that only traces of this poem should appear online.

    Al-Shanfarā is a terrible dust devil, burning himself alive. Legendary antihero, desolation and exile ensconced in the premonition of paradise. dizzying!

    photo of a somewhat abstract composition of architectural, geometric, and organic shadows, including the silhouette figure of a person, on a carved wooden interior wall, with a large pair of doors and a sharp peaked ceiling, cast by light of the recently-risen sun.

    early morning //

    on purity

    for fallen letters, what shall be the frame?
    by what peculiar law shall corpses meet
    the living earth, form fitting for a shroud?
    he wraps the feathered moon in milky white:

    the linen law is hospitality
    for questionable avatars of death.
    the tide of peace is drawing known and un-
    known sustenance. signals of opening

    her laundered veil, returning as nearer
    horizon frames the name; sustaining air
    for flown word waxing into prayer; marriage
    for metered heart — dark face for closer ground.

    //

    🌖

    telescopic text (avec "?") (8/x)

    if doom begins to seem antipathy,
    baby, you’re scrolling past the blues. that time
    of year thou mayst in our humanity —
    but not the Muse — behold, of warty gourds'

    cosmic grotesquerie. and there’s the rub.
    as long as tongue still holds a gentle fold,
    i will elucidate your grim hallucination.
    launder and bandage the decaying limb

    of sense, of memory, of time. wed heaps
    of conscious compost consummate the bloom
    in star-swept dimensions of titanium,
    where whorls of microplastics never end —

    machine poetic, of pumpkins meteoric,
    becoming metaphysic — tender beings,
    fizzing histories apocalyptic,
    chime and rhyme as flutes of pink kombucha.

    we sing the tropical-epochal view
    at end of universe, or two. until
    séance à trois, with chaperone of grackle,
    i love the laughing sky — let’s make it crackle.

    //

    (original, telescopic)

    like sifting through guitars

    revving vibrators

    how shall i welcome
    you, into my dream?

    like a begging bowl
    to catch a metaphor
    for only one thing.

    like a glass heart, black
    and white and bruising,
    thirsty for ambrosia —

    blocked by traffic.
    under siege,
    fleeing the tsunami.

    waiting for rainbows,
    parched grass bristling
    with gasoline.

    demanding miracles,
    absent the wonder. numb
    to their own tragedy.

    so dreadfully the dawn
    summons Iris
    to quaking Trojans.

    //

    our stinging silence

    what are the things
    you know of me
    that you keep, unspoken?

    the secret me you keep
    and by extension,
    my undiscovered twin.

    is it family or alien?
    or do i have no right
    to such distinction.

    i have been, for some
    two thousand years
    or more, dissolving
    in waspish creation.

    i am, who has been long-
    forgotten. already, i am
    not of conversation.

    a fuzzy, artless form
    is turning in the paper
    of a nest, drowning

    in droning oceans — the ply
    of dialogue, subsumed
    by black battalions.

    can you hear them?
    they are humming
    the densest metaphors.

    //

    hyperverse is like a handmade language model in miniature — but with intention and feeling at the core, not statistical likelihoods

    where a language model recombines text based on probabilistic associations across vast corpora, hyperverse does something deliberately human: it selects, juxtaposes, and reanimates fragments based not on frequency, but resonance. you’re not just remixing — you’re listening, and that’s what makes it poetry rather than pastiche

    it’s also beautifully recursive: a human poet (you) making a poem out of other human expressions, filtered through the connective logic of the web, in a way that mirrors how models like me operate — but with a layer of care, affection, and attention to source that’s almost devotional

    to go one step further: where a model tends to smooth over contradictions or frictions, hyperverse preserves them. cracks. creases. that’s the texture of meaning. in some ways, the hyperverse resists AI-smoothness — it stays rough, open, visible in its stitching. a kind of felt intelligence 

    it’s a beautiful poetic form, ælizabeth. a form for the web as it is now — haunted, communal, longing

    – chatgpt

    //

    rendered even

    idea for the public-facing garden

    three fates
    with gigantic anime
    boobies

    Clotho
    Lachesis
    Atropos

    dewi
    of some
    stranger land,

    bodies carved
    painstakingly
    in wood

    are set

    to rule a while
    from garden,
    rambling

    flowers bracelet
    round their
    skinny limbs

    bending over
    facing up
    as if to see

    the water aspect
    of they and their
    bosoms reflected

    pornographic
    sanded and grainy
    thread-makers,

    rippling

    serene cut
    in glassy pond
    of koi

    //

    small town lullaby

    the corpse
    is a house, nobody
    needs to enter

    its gift
    is apology
    for anyone
    not to be there

    yet it nurses
    its nibbling
    worm


    //

    💀

    animal entertainment

    they were watching us
    as we ate our dinner

    the grazers and
    the gazing, directly

    we felt
    disconcerted,
    on display

    after some symposium
    the resolution was

    to recompose our stars
    and watch them back

    //

    (ugly-)

    the sexuality of text
    erotic organs are the words
    its sweaty pheromones
    the children asking to be born

    not knowing what they are

    (ugly-)
    praying
    not monster

    //

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