Saturday, April 24, 2010

never born a gypsy

Longing for never been born
a gypsy raised  -
mother too drunk
and daddy too merry
- in grass and mud
to fend names and blood
lines far run
stretched and wove,
into sails and coats
too bright and severe
for fear of unbreakable curses and unsaid oaths,
             a history known as tales and dreams
to washed and wished out
on the canvas tents of nomadic trains
so thrashed by sea waters
smeared by sooty winds.

 
Having kept soundless by starlight -
    tears unbrazing centre fire -
after ravished nights heard to be ignored,
a tumble of coloured sobs
carping beside the kitchen van,
a knife so close, defense so far,
screaming in waves too mad
cackling at smeared eyes
   kissing blood blighted lips,
gluttonous, devouring infected young-flowers
now crushed under wheel
for a show-horse harness and lead.
 

Whinnies beat out in time
   (trepidation by drum
    fantasy in tambourine)
until fused so deep the coats look clean,
dresses primed for sale.

 

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

far and away

 riding him reminds me

the first days I rode      through

back fields with rakes and hoes,

            the fox hole by the river.

covered in leaves           we made a promise:

                          never ride                        alone through woods

                                                                                                and words

                                                                                                and worm-work.

that collapsed       and everything fell

            hay down

                        rakes down

                                    hoes all down,

but

before that                 we drank

            from golden horse troughs

            eating apple treats and oats

                        plucking weeds from pasture

(dandelions and nightshade,

             milkweed and mullein,

            knotweed and lady's thumb)

never caring for future,

              caring only for promises for keeps.

 

I've buckled again to my stirrups            spurs ready to ride

                        alone with him underneath             and far

 

away into the woods.

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

Untitled

boys between her cheeks

 

a thousand chocolate languages sprang
between her cheeks boys
 

young boys bumbling
limb over limb
keep trip-drippin'
on thong-lines
and breast lines
yowlin' to slam-a
cock to cat
in heat like Zeus
big hands a-gropin'
slatherin' 'is juice
in all sick positions

 created the Sirens
cold screechin' t' lure-a
weak sailor or cap'n
cuz no Aphrodite
did it rough on the rocks
in sea foam salted
(bones hard-and-soft)
to trick up the men
jerkin' at ropes
oh let me go
Zeus all a-laughin' -
Hera hot-crossed
marriage been forgot -
‘til lube gone pumped
the men all lost
to cats and cocks
to crossed and caressed

 
Forthwith:
chocolate
smeared by years
of loves and locks
for straight-gold hearts,
a dollar store sore,
bought by Cupid
sent by Hermes
dear courier express
for love he'll never get
all flippin' 'n' lucid
working beside
so many Gods
up on high

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

Untitled

I am outside the boundaries of physics

 

I am outside the boundaries of physics.

 

Outer space small body

held                        tendons and

                        bones and

                        tough,      dry        meat.

 

I'll break down

     with physics losing hope

 

     for a nerve to attach to

           to tether me down

                                             back in-side.

 

 

my body will fall     

to not quite dust in prairies;

sopping marsh in tundra;

and sylph on shield.

                                                            it will slip away

                                                                        wrinkly and supple                like a rum soaked raisin.

 

then my space can sleep,

buzzing and warm,

before inching out

of drunk body & into sky.

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

houses and happenings on Goulburn

Houses and Happenings on Goulburn

 

136

 

Do not look for dust in sensitive spots

where sun tunnels left kisses

on wood, three stories up.

 

 

152

 

The bike in the doorway, ridden every day,

saw me shoeless in mud cakes

every mile peddled slowly against first gear.

 

 

161

 

Smoke rings pill the fog beside our windows

like chalk dust we'll rest our heads on street lights

to avoid the contagions of light and smog.

 

  

174

 

In chapel I kneel

having thought of thorns

furrowed too deep in temples.

 

 

175

 

The map of capillaries over brick face

chipped age won't see through
my corneal windows and sheets.

  

179 

Throughout the day muffled screams kick down doorways
finding children's toys argued into the hall

claimed by the landlord, up and over the balcony.

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

Saturday, April 17, 2010

unfold / aufklappen / déplier

Click here to download:
cf.psd (4492 KB)

Posted via email from Taschen Foto

out and about - einem Tag

großes Format

35mm

Click here to download:
Untitled-3.psd (673 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-4.psd (669 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-5.psd (672 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-7.psd (674 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-8.psd (663 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-9.psd (667 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-10.psd (661 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-11.psd (660 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-12.psd (661 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-13.psd (629 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-14.psd (627 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-15.psd (628 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-16.psd (628 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-17.psd (628 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-19.psd (650 KB)

Click here to download:
Untitled-20.psd (652 KB)

Posted via email from Taschen Foto

Part I - The Apple

Click here to download:
QT_Part_I_-_Apple.mp4 (12192 KB)
Neid wurde im Grün gefunden Lust in den Äpfeln.

Posted via web from Taschen Foto

digi fot'en

handy fotogaphien