Zeitgeist Spam

girl singing after everyone has sung

      (By and © Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza)

[Note: Sophie writes: “Pen and Ink drawing by Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza”]

girl watching girl singing

      (By and © Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza)

[Note: Sophie writes: “Pen and Ink drawing by Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza”]

girl singing on paper

      (By and © Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza)

[Note: Sophie writes: “‘Typist’, a public domain media file; line from Eileen Tabios’ ‘The Secret Life of an Angel’”]

girl singing on film

      (By and © Cecilia Sophia Ibardaloza)

[Note: Sophie writes: “Audrey Hepburn singing ‘Moon River’, Paramount Pictures © 1961, ink stamped (image editing, mine); lines from Jose Garcia Villa's ‘Poem # 21’”]

“meaning small waves each” (Autopoiesis 2.5)

meaning small waves each

Bird’s eye bullweed
banewort
............................pensée
heartease

flying lions:

“before we feel the
breeze we see
the weeds folded over”
a snail’s vacated shell lies next to a wad of gum

a glass of water. Ah!
just clarity some to clear
a little throat.

corresponding dashes of lane dividers painted on the road:

and in the late day the rocks shade and go on down:

                                                     Total thing
                                                     Noise is made
                                                     Total thing
                                                     Noise is made

because you’re empty & I’m empty
Because every thing is beyond description be-cause

Heaven is a truck: With rain-ripped debris on the windshield:

Between the tracks a rat nudges a Duracell
The horizon’s plum bloomed
a colored dozen

the way tires squeal

Through this room
where you stand nude.
Finite, in its most suggestive

sense bright pouring over.  i sees no sin in grief.

[Note: Sources: authors who have published volumes with fewer & further press, as found bottom of page to top, tho I begin as I end, with Jess Mynes. Text stands as edited by Jared Schickling. Thank you, Jared!

Jess Mynes, “beach ball delay”, at Shampoo 25: Aaron Tieger, as quoted in a review of February, by Logan Ryan Smith, at Do Gummi Bears Dream of Rubber Passion Fruit?, 11 April 2006 (dots in line ending pensee added by Smith); Michael Carr, “The Greatest Prawn on Earth”, at Shampoo 8; Joseph Massey, as quoted in Matthew Henricksen’s review of Massey’s Bramble, The Burning Chair, 1 December 2005; Christopher Rizzo, “A”, at Shampoo 19, and “about ‘Zone’”, at H_NGM_N 6; Clark Coolidge, At Egypt, at EPC; Andrew Mister, “Seven Eleven”, “Drag City”, “Out Hud”, at H_NGM_N (storage); Shannon Tharp, “Nebraska”, at Shampoo 23; Brenda Iijima, “Shorn of Its Habitat”, at Omnidawn Blog, 5 July 2008, and “Periodical”, at Shampoo 15; Jess Mynes, as quoted in a review of his birds for example by Anthony Robinson, at Geneva Convention, 24 March 2006]

The Secret Life of an Angel (Korean Mecha Remix)

      (By and © Ernesto Priego)

[Note: Ernesto writes: “I translated Eileen's poem into Spanish using Babelfish. Then translated it back to English. Then back to Spanish. Then to Korean. Then to Spanish. Then to English. Then to Spanish. Then to Korean. I then took a snapshot of the result and exported it to iPhoto. I used the Edge Blur effect. Then I exported that to Comic Life. Created a hay(na)ku layout with six borderless panels and moved around the text inside them. Then I took two snapshots of what caught my eye, until I got those two elements, which I then exported back to iPhoto ... Here's the whole poem, as source”:

]

Girl Singing Puzzle

     (By and © Steve Mitchell)

[Note: Steve writes: “I have taken the first three or four lead lines and used them to partially answer an imaginary crossword puzzle.”]

Girl Singing Parsed

                   

                       Girl Singing Day The old man

             of winter reaches for immortality
  with a lengthening shadow
                         despite my skipping away.
                                  Girl singing! I insist. Day!
                         I chant like the Babaylan I will
                           become to keep the clouds
                         from dimming the sun, from
milking the sky of its cobalt
                  gaze. He has worn many
                     disguises, and I have let him:
                       the original angel who fell
                     and fell. “It’s a glorious ride,”
                  he has whispered as part of his
                spell. “This is a game of poker
                  I have lost, but no longer wish

                   to play,” I reply. Girl singing.
                                Day. I insist and proclaim:
                              “You cannot scoff, my secret
                              demon. For I played with high
                             stakes while you only watched.”
                                 Girl singing. Day. I risked
       everything while you hedged
           so I could sing notes only virgin boys can muster,
 only fearful dogs can hear.
                        I lost myself in the ‘valley
 of evil’ but my wings unfurled
                       to make me rise. Unlike your
                                    wings, mine did not betray-
                                   unfurling as I changed my mind
                 for Heaven nearer than a breath away.

     (By and © Steve Mitchell)

[Steve writes: “Sub-text discovered through use of a fish-eye lens.”]

“Gorilla seeking day”

After Eileen R Tabios’ The Secret Life of Angel
                -after Jose Garcia Villa’s “Girl Singing”

Gorilla seeking day. They all moan

and wither ranges of in mortality
wicka lightening chateau
the spike ice kipping hay.

Gorilla seeking! Eins ist. Day!
Ain’t cha at the babblin’ aye will
we come to keep the claws.

from timmy the son, from
‘ilking this guy of his cold bald
gaze. He swore many

this guy’s is, and I am Lenin:
the Rachel danger who felon
fell. “It’s a Gloria’s ride,”

he has wisps of part of his
bell. “This game of poke her
I have loss but no longer swish

toupee I or die. Grill singing.
Day. Eins ist I’m broke aim:
“Your can’s off, my’s wheat

deem in four I play in highest
aches why you oily watch.”
Girl singing. Day. Iris

everything. Why your head
so I could see nose
only version boys cans mustard,

only vier/four dogs came here.
I lost my scarf in the ‘valium
evil’ but Mike’s wings unfurled

to make me rice. I like your
wings, mind not portray-
un-fur-link as Ike change mine mine

for Having you here than a breath away.

     (By and © Yichen Chiu)

[Note: Yichen writes: “The result of playing telephone with myself at 3 in the morning. The process basically consisted of rereading the poem aloud multiple times as fast as I could and documenting what I heard.”]

Clandestine Killjoy

-After THE SECRET LIFE OF AN ANGEL
                -After Jose Garcia Villa’s “Girl Singing”

Girl singing. Life. The curmudgeon

of death reaches for the everlasting
with an enlarging darkness
in spite of my best efforts to escape.

Song escapes from her lips once again! I insist. Breath of life!
I recite the Nirvana I hope to
reach, to keep reality

from suffocating imagination, from
draining the thoughts of many young
and old. He puts up many

facades, and I allow him:
the one who used to smile who no
longer understands emotion. “It’s a splendid adventure,”

he has believed as part of his
entrancement. “These are the cards
I have been dealt, but no longer wish

to figure out how to play,” I reply. Song escapes yet again.
More life. I cajole and I persuade:
“You cannot surrender, my clandestine

killjoy. For I strategized with
the cards I was dealt while you simply let time pass by.”
Song flees from her lips. Gasps of life. I truly

made an attempt at life while you lived vicariously through others
so I could go on adventures
only maniac individuals would dare attempt

only exceptional writers can capture through words.
I plunged myself into the ‘the comatose
life’ but my parachute opened

and slowed my descent. Unlike your
parachute, mine had a back up cord-
unfurling as I changed my mind

for Life which is only a struggle away.

     (By and © Yichen Chiu)

[Note: Yichen writes: “I initially started this as an English to English translation and as the poem evolved I used the definition much more loosely …”]