Friday, April 30, 2010

'tic-tac-tic-tac' by Anka Duku



-Το Ταχυδρομικό Ταμιευτήριο, χρόνια τώρα συνέβαλε τα πλείστα για να ανθίσει η οικονομία της χώρας μας. Κατάλαβες Κλειώ; Και τώρα που μπήκε ταβάνι στο επιτόκιο ήρθε η ώρα να αποκτήσουμε το δικό μας σπίτι.
- Θα πάμε και στο Καζίνο Λουτρακίου να ζήσουμε τ' όνειρο;
- Γιου μπετ! και μετά, θ'ακολουθήσουμε τη δίαιτα του Κοσμοπόλιταν για να χάσουμε τα περιττά κιλά πριν μπει το καλοκαίρι.
- Σ' όλα ναι, χωρίς δημοψήφισμα!
Αρκεί το παριζάκι μας να είναι Υφαντής.


ευγενικοί χορηγοί επεισοδίου:

Nέα Δημοπρασία
Πανελήνιο Σοκαριστικό Κίνημα
Εκτροπαϊκή Ένωση
Aει Εμεφ (κι ακόμα παραπέρα)

στόλισαν οι οίκοι:
Στάνταρντ & Πούρς/ Μούντιζ (protypoi & ftwxoi/kyklothymikoi)
Γκόλντμαν Σεξ (tou chryssou andra to morio)

special guest star (σε μία έκτακτη εμφάνιση):
Γκέλα Μέρκελ

βοηθός προαγωγής:
το καλό παιδί με τη μωβ γραβάτα





Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


def con 4 at Babeland

you accidentally egotripped
on me
-while
running away
from
yourself-

and burned me
with the hot plate
of goodwill pasta
*
I had cooked us
for dinner.
Thus,
no evidence
of forced entry
was left behind
to overrule
the convenient
verdict
of
self-inflicted

trauma.

* Fear and Anger Tikka Masala, being the main dish of your counter offer for a pre-postponed lunch alternative



Monday, April 19, 2010

WORDS


Words are deeds. The words we hear
May revolutionize or rear
A mighty state. The words we read
May be a spiritual deed
Excelling any fleshly one,
As much as the celestial sun
Transcends a bonfire, made to throw
A light upon some raree-show.
A simple proverb tagged with rhyme
May colour half the course of time;
The pregnant saying of a sage
May influence every coming age;
A song in its effects may be
More glorious than Thermopylae,
And many a lay that schoolboys scan
A nobler feat than Inkerman.

- William Charles Wentworth







(ink on paper)

theory and application







Thursday, April 15, 2010

'passion' by 'metalhead'


...And I want to play hide-and-seek and give you my clothes and tell you I like your shoes and sit on the steps while you take a bath and massage your neck and kiss your feet and hold your hand and go for a meal and not mind when you eat my food and meet you at Rudy's and talk about the day and type your letters and carry your boxes and laugh at your paranoia and give you tapes you don't listen to and watch great films and watch terrible films and complain about the radio and take pictures of you when you're sleeping and get up to fetch you coffee and bagels and Danish and go to Florence and drink coffee at midnight and have you steal my cigarettes and never be able to find a match and tell you about the the program I saw the night before and take you to the eye hospital and not laugh at your jokes and want you in the morning but let you sleep for a while and kiss your back and stroke your skin and tell you how much I love your hair your eyes your lips your neck your breasts your arse your
and sit on the steps smoking till your neighbor comes home and sit on the steps smoking till you come home and worry when you're late and be amazed when you're early and give you sunflowers and go to your party and dance till I'm black and be sorry when I'm wrong and happy when you forgive me and look at your photos and wish I'd known you forever and hear your voice in my ear and feel your skin on my skin and get scared when you're angry and your eye has gone red and the other eye blue and your hair to the left and your face oriental and tell you you're gorgeous and hug you when you're anxious and hold you when you hurt and want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you and whimper when I'm next to you and whimper when I'm not and dribble on your breast and smother you in the night and get cold when you take the blanket and hot when you don't and melt when you smile and dissolve when you laugh and not understand why you think I'm rejecting you when I'm not rejecting you and wonder how you could think I'd ever reject you and wonder who you are but accept you anyway and tell you about the tree angel enchanted forest boy who flew across the ocean because he loved you and write poems for you and wonder why you don't believe me and have a feeling so deep I can't find words for it and want to buy you a kitten I'd get jealous of because it would get more attention than me and keep you in bed when you have to go and cry like a baby when you finally do and get rid of the roaches and buy you presents you don't want and take them away again and ask you to marry me and you say no again but keep on asking because though you think I don't mean it I do always have from the first time I asked you and wander the city thinking it's empty without you and want want you want and think I'm losing myself but know I'm safe with you and tell you the worst of me and try to give you the best of me because you don't deserve any less and answer your questions when I'd rather not and tell you the truth when I really don't want to and try to be honest because I know you prefer it and think it's all over but hang on in for just ten more minutes before you throw me out of your life and forget who I am and try to get closer to you because it's a beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort and speak German to you badly and Hebrew to you worse and make love with you at three in the morning and somehow somehow somehow communicate some of the overwhelming undying overpowering unconditional all-encompassing heart-enriching mind-expanding on-going never-ending love I have for you...

from Sarah Kane's 'Crave'



Wednesday, April 14, 2010

poetic realism

Constantly risking absurdity


Constantly risking absurdity
and death
whenever he performs
above the heads
of his audience
the poet like an acrobat
climbs on rime
to a high wire of his own making
and balancing on eyebeams
above a sea of faces
paces his way
to the other side of the day
performing entrachats
and sleight-of-foot tricks
and other high theatrics
and all without mistaking
any thing
for what it may not be
For he's the super realist
who must perforce perceive
taut truth
before the taking of each stance or step
in his supposed advance
toward that still higher perch
where Beauty stands and waits
with gravity
to start her death-defying leap
And he
a little charleychaplin man
who may or may not catch
her fair eternal form
spreadeagled in the empty air
of existence


Don't let that horse


Don't let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall's mother

But he
kept right on
painting

And became famous

And kept on painting
The Horse With Violin In Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin

And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across

And there were no strings
attached



Sometime during eternity


Sometime during eternity
some guys show up
and one of them
who shows up real late
is a kind of carpenter
from some square-type place
like Galilee
and he starts wailing
and claiming he is hep
to who made heaven
and earth
and that the cat
who really laid it on us
is his Dad

And moreover
he adds
It's all writ down
on some scroll-type parchments
which some henchmen
leave lying around the Dead Sea somewheres
a long time ago
and which you won't even find
for a coupla thousand years or so
or at least for
ninteen hundred and fortyseven
of them
to be exact
and even then
nobody really believes them
or me
for that matter

You're hot
they tell him

And they cool him

They stretch him on the Tree to cool
And everybody after that
is always making models
of this Tree
with Him hung up
and always crooning His name
and calling Him to come down
and sit in
on their combo
as if he is THE king cat
who's got to blow
or they can't quite make it

Only he don't come down
from His Tree

Him just hang there
on His Tree
looking real Petered out
and real cool
and also
according to a roundup
of late world news
from the usual unreliable sources
real dead



Lawrence Ferlinghetti























Saturday, April 10, 2010

Friday, April 09, 2010



photo by Dark Lilianth


Γυναίκες

Υπάρχουν γυναίκες που φοράνε
την ομορφιά τους σαν πένθος,
γυναίκες φωτεινές και
σκιασμένες, διπλά δρεπάνια της
αψίδας,
με το παιδί ασάλευτο στα
σταυρωμένα χέρια.
Άλλες είναι χάρτινες, στοιχειά
νηπιαγωγείων,
άλλες πάλι, ζωγραφιές με
κιμωλία,
όρθια τα μαλλιά και μεγάλη
μαύρη τσάντα.
Υπάρχουν γυναίκες ακροκέραμα
ανάμεσα στις άλλες,
γυναίκες με το μακρύ λαιμό, το
χείλος της κανάτας,
άλλες που είναι ωδικά πτηνά κι
άλλες που είναι χήνες.
Υπάρχουν γυναίκες που τις
φωνάζει ο φονιάς
να βγάλουν τον θάνατο περίπατο
μες στ' αραιό το δάσος
Υπάρχουν γυναίκες που τις
φωνάζει το παιδί Μαμά
και αυτές δεν απαντανε...
Υπάρχουν γυναίκες που κάθε
τρίχα της κεφαλης τους
είναι κι ένας όρκος.
Είναι εκείνες που σέβονται το
όνομα τους
Κι οι άλλες που το εξευτελίζουν,
εκείνες που με τα χρόνια
βαραίνουν,
κι οι άλλες που ξεφτίζουν,
εκείνες που στέκουν στο κήπο
ρόδινες σαν τη μυγδαλιά,
εκείνες που άγρια χόρτα
γεμίζουν,
εκείνες που χάνουν το φως τους,
εκείνες που απ' τον καημό
λυγίζουν,
εκείνες που κλωτσαει ο θάνατος
από μικρά παιδιά.
Εκείνες που κλείνουν μια
τελευταία φορά το παράθυρο
και καθαρίζουν μια τελευταία
φορά το σπίτι
και ταΐζουν τον σκύλο μια
τελευταία φορά
και μας αφήνουν δίχως να
πουν λέξη,
έτσι σκληρά και μαγικά,
σαν το κερί που κρατάς στο χέρι
και σου σβήνει.


-Λευκή Μολφέση





Thursday, April 08, 2010

Monday, April 05, 2010

diagnosis

My photo
i have nothing to declare, but a can of tuna