Read last week. Nothing that knocked my brains out and repacked the neuronal firing.
Eggers, Dave, What is the What
Gordimer, Nadine, Beethoven was one-sixteenth black
National Geographic, Birding Essentials
Roach, Mary, Bonk, The Curious Couplings of Science (VERY FUNNY and well written, Mary Anne and I laughed and laughed as we read it aloud to each other)
Notely, Alice, Grave of Light poems (lovely, I just cannot compete)
Rucker, Rudy, Postsingular.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
New poem Couplets from journal
“What intangible rewards are given to a man as you?” Words
Are no longer available or useful for frames of redaction.
Elaborate mathematical riddles played out on plaster
and mud forms. Scraped layered things are scalded with intent.
Things are designed to hurt. Relish the thoughtfulness of the very tiny
and massively complex machinery inside the tender parts of your body.
The usefulness of a penis sheath proves that usefulness trumps aesthetics.
We are mentally unstable enough to begin spastic mistake making.
Forgiveness, healing, exorcism by passing an afflicted man-child through
A hole in a tree, in a rock, in a wall and scraping off the ghost’s pollution.
See the tan man making sex wreck the lightpole daddy. Trapped by a desire
Specifically made to preserve a value. Modifications are not performed.
So, feeding the beast is an disassociative behavior similar to any hypnotic,
Altered state. How would you treat this? Within ritual locating the body.
I passed his body through the millstone hole. Messy belief is real to me.
What are you willing to give up I asked? For this lifestyle. Name it.
Many names received not of blood. Fullness received grace easily forged.
Each forged record is found out in a strange wayward universe with full lips.
He is an old man with death surrounding his ears. His belief in progress only
A secular version of xtian faith in salvation for all, or atonement.
My child, do not forget my heart, length of life, welfare. We will do faith-
Fullness. Bind your neck to me. Acknowledge and make straight the way.
The gospel of making do, craftiness tells us that if you find a need to kill
A god, you pre-stage a resurrection. But as for you, continue to be learned.
Confessions of fortune's child. Slam piece in progress
Confession of fortune's child
Teachers try to talk through their mistakes without remorse.
Most of us are made of mistakes from hasty paid-for performances. As if
students need help emptying their body of meaning. They are apophatic
masters. Is emotion a battle of slippery means to a graceless end.
Verbs lock language and god's perspective tells the same recursions.
Sometimes I am sorry to confess these things
things that are picked clean, lint-free and laundered.
Just as I am she hangs and adjusts my shirts on
the clothes line. A dance I like to watch
from our bed pretending pretty much
to be asleep in my chair. Her breast lift with her arms
A daily bread given and rising. The still warm part
of her touched here and here.
An impromptu speech for abba poemon
Lauren
dressing for work. her work washing bodies for funerals. Preparation.
Teaching the preparation of
bodies for funerals. I trust the dead.
our family freshening in
our Walton township plotspace Finally
dowsing a desire for something
akin to all my forgotten fathers. my desert fathers
The lines of my east and west pasture are
being held down by two long-eared owls. If
these long ears had verbs how
would they hide them? Each a doxy woo woo
wooing. The ruts in the front drive pool
water and ice.
Teachers try to talk through their mistakes without remorse.
Most of us are made of mistakes from hasty paid-for performances. As if
students need help emptying their body of meaning. They are apophatic
masters. Is emotion a battle of slippery means to a graceless end.
Verbs lock language and god's perspective tells the same recursions.
Sometimes I am sorry to confess these things
things that are picked clean, lint-free and laundered.
Just as I am she hangs and adjusts my shirts on
the clothes line. A dance I like to watch
from our bed pretending pretty much
to be asleep in my chair. Her breast lift with her arms
A daily bread given and rising. The still warm part
of her touched here and here.
An impromptu speech for abba poemon
Lauren
dressing for work. her work washing bodies for funerals. Preparation.
Teaching the preparation of
bodies for funerals. I trust the dead.
our family freshening in
our Walton township plotspace Finally
dowsing a desire for something
akin to all my forgotten fathers. my desert fathers
The lines of my east and west pasture are
being held down by two long-eared owls. If
these long ears had verbs how
would they hide them? Each a doxy woo woo
wooing. The ruts in the front drive pool
water and ice.
New Automatic language poem
Maybe a few good lines in here.
rainforests are
cathedral-like take structures.
Rainforests are in on richness,
depends again on a represented nee representative plot.
measures reasonable simply sprout after likely
lag disperse like assertion about species-rich
support will longer understanding
Ewel was most comely biomass pre-disturbed established
forests forests. pathway parameter height,
means resilient Oaxaca,
like about importantly,
in fact forests often stumps stature
pre-disturbed work establish Measures depend tropical
than Mexico
rainforests are
cathedral-like take structures.
Rainforests are in on richness,
depends again on a represented nee representative plot.
measures reasonable simply sprout after likely
lag disperse like assertion about species-rich
support will longer understanding
Ewel was most comely biomass pre-disturbed established
forests forests. pathway parameter height,
means resilient Oaxaca,
like about importantly,
in fact forests often stumps stature
pre-disturbed work establish Measures depend tropical
than Mexico
Sunday, June 01, 2008
My upbringing as Pelagian. Quite right. Read all of it.
Too many Evangelical accounts of personal eschatology are simply Pelagian: I make decisions, and God responds to them. This has to be wrong. If salvation always coincides with visible faith, then it is because God decides to save, and as a result grants faith (see Edwards's sermon on justification by faith for some very close analysis of this), not because I decide to have faith and thereby force God to do something different. (Almost no-one ever held that salvation always coincides with visible faith, though; the 10-20% mortality rate amongst infants in pre-penicillin Europe & America saw to that.) What determines the outcome is not what goes on in my heart, but what goes on in God's heart, and what God does to my heart.
http://shoredfragments.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/pastoral-eschatology/
http://shoredfragments.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/pastoral-eschatology/
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Short Lightning Video
Taken this morning while recording bird calls. NE 48th between Spencer and Hillside. East of my sister's farm. Facing South South East, Overlooking a prairie wetland, you can hear a dickcissel and a Red-Winged Blackbird. There is a grackle in the background and a quail in the hedge row to the right (west).
Friday, May 30, 2008
Practical Hermeneutics
Practical Hermeneutics
Do you wonder how long this banged-up boy from some dark bite of Kansas can keep doing this shit? See how easy it feels. How easy to say that he has to
stop doing this? Get better at something.
Did you hear him telegraphed along the buffalo roots in your backyard? Is that what brings you here, Did you dial the gloam loudspeakered across the pastures and feedlots between this place and Topeka?
Let's see how this one plays out. I know you want to. Our boy Wendell is getting himself ripped like a gravel roadbed by a stomp-rocket bull hauler with a cowbell cock and his favorite Blues for Allah CD.
Is this what brings you? Are you along this northern azimuth by accident?
How many sandburrs, cockleburrs, and creep-stickers are
finding each other in the double folds of your socks? Will these roots broadcast that far back?
Do you see? He's getting ridden like a setter on point,
struck like wheatstraw in the clevis of a plow, planted like tulip bulbs. Pay attention to
steel-toed boots. Notice the slip clay lugged deep in the soles and the careful grease along the tops.
Can you see the crowns of tiny gold stars
splash-inked along the slender calves? Do these signs and wonders get in your nails like an imperfect mold? Embargoed in the taut skin below your tender belly?
Were you hoping for a sweet smelling bible-baptist farmboy in a pressed down shirt? Looking for something more than Wendell jacking rough trade in the stalls?
Did you find something else on this tiny highway? Find
anything to staighten the wayward air?
Do you hear the dense waves freshen the bluestems and drop seed behind the reststop?
How long have you been waiting for pleasure to chant down a day instead of redded rain?
Do you wonder how long this banged-up boy from some dark bite of Kansas can keep doing this shit? See how easy it feels. How easy to say that he has to
stop doing this? Get better at something.
Did you hear him telegraphed along the buffalo roots in your backyard? Is that what brings you here, Did you dial the gloam loudspeakered across the pastures and feedlots between this place and Topeka?
Let's see how this one plays out. I know you want to. Our boy Wendell is getting himself ripped like a gravel roadbed by a stomp-rocket bull hauler with a cowbell cock and his favorite Blues for Allah CD.
Is this what brings you? Are you along this northern azimuth by accident?
How many sandburrs, cockleburrs, and creep-stickers are
finding each other in the double folds of your socks? Will these roots broadcast that far back?
Do you see? He's getting ridden like a setter on point,
struck like wheatstraw in the clevis of a plow, planted like tulip bulbs. Pay attention to
steel-toed boots. Notice the slip clay lugged deep in the soles and the careful grease along the tops.
Can you see the crowns of tiny gold stars
splash-inked along the slender calves? Do these signs and wonders get in your nails like an imperfect mold? Embargoed in the taut skin below your tender belly?
Were you hoping for a sweet smelling bible-baptist farmboy in a pressed down shirt? Looking for something more than Wendell jacking rough trade in the stalls?
Did you find something else on this tiny highway? Find
anything to staighten the wayward air?
Do you hear the dense waves freshen the bluestems and drop seed behind the reststop?
How long have you been waiting for pleasure to chant down a day instead of redded rain?
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