woensdag 28 september 2011

the anti-muse song (the cabinet of spirits part II)


i will not be your muse


let you

fill your fountain pen with my spirit

you sucked up when i was asleep

wrote your words from my hands

spinning tales from my hair

your song the shape of my groins


i will

swallow my words speaking backwards

my fluids flowing back to me

my kiss so dry

your tongue pulls back in fear

my lust inhaled


safe in my chest

my nipples, soft

my breath all mine

the sheets not crumpled

pluto back in the sky


i was never there


















zondag 18 september 2011

I'm swinging, my hands tightly holding onto the rings hanging from a tree. I turn, I tumble, try to get my feet in the rings. Which is hard because I'm wearing shoes with wooden soles. I'm a child, but I don't feel like one. But I'm swinging anyway, because that's what children do. The sky turns and the clouds go everywhere. I hang my head back and feel my hair brush my shoulders. I laugh because it feels nice. I prefer hanging here looking at the sky to standing on the ground. I always look either up to the sky or down to search for insects. When I find insects I pick them up to examine them carefully. I prefer this to looking people in the face, or worse, talk to them. I'm always afraid to give the wrong answer when people ask me questions. Besides I'm so dreamy I don't always hear what they say. I try to get into the sky. The sky is now in my head. This is how I like it! Can't it always be like this? No words, just cloud shaped images.


Someone calls my name. I let go of the rings. I feel the ground beneath my feet. I'm back on earth. I shiver. I feel dizzy. I try to keep the sky in my head. It's hard.


I walk up to the big barn next to the tree. I hear music coming from inside. Someone calls my name again.


I enter the barn. The music grows louder. It's a farmer's barn but it's filled with objects. My eyes have a hard time adjusting to the sudden darkness. I haven't been here before. Dim light falls through the small windows. I recognise some of the large objects. They're machines. I walk around. Then I see where the music comes from. Two gigantic black speakers are standing in the middle of the barn. They're the biggest speakers I've ever seen. My father made them. I vaguely discern him and my two brothers by the speakers. I walk up to them. My father shouts: "listen to this!!" and he turns the volume up. I feel the movement of the wind of the sound coming from the speakers right into my stomach. I'm literally blown away.





"WELCOME MY SON!


WELCOME, TO THE MACHINE!"







dinsdag 6 september 2011

how much is the ransom

as i see myself

tuning in
well-received?


i miss your voice