surrealism was born

[revolutionR]

the birth of surrealism
the moment it came into being
the inception of its take on life
came on the death throes of Dada
there were difficult days for art
and the meaning behind it, poetry
was smoking a cigarette in a cafe
waiting for the new words to come
the ones that would signal the change
that moment could have been the day
some of the future surrealists, saw
a strange woman on the street, who
seemed to be looking for something
something that was somewhere in front
of her, they watched her, and surrealism
came into the light of their vision of her

[mnaz]

I'm starting to see (at times) how these things all fit together in one big ragged landscape, the cigarette smoke, the wayward riff, the Dada slice, the absurdity of "civilization," the whole pie ... God is Pooh bear.

[revolutionR]

Philip Lamantia said to me, "you cannot know what it was like to be a
surrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaist in the 20's. So I have spent the rest of my
life trying to find out, what it was and is like.

[mnaz]

"Surrealism is dead"-- Ton
"Ton is dead"-- Surrealism

Earth is crawling with possibility and brown spots.
Real/surreal is but a micro-shimmy in the
big matter/anti-matter engine of it all.
And all those little Edens at the
center of careening axes.
Why?

[WIREMAN]

we all b waiting for the axe to fall....

[revolutionR]

the surrealist movement is pretty much defunct, kaput, but there are still a few
of us our here on our own. It really doesn't matter if you call yourself a surrealist
or die hard dadist. I refer to surrealism, because i consider myself one, in the sense
that I first read Rimbaud, and then I found a copy of Philip Lamantia's poetry. Not
long after that I talked to Philip on the telephone. He talked to me for about 15 or 20
minutes, but it felt like an eternity. My mentor, who was a hard core acid head surfer
was into mostly the Beat writers when I met him. Then he got into surrealism, and gave
me Philip's phone number, because he had gone up to San Francisco to see him read, and
managed to get his phone number. Rik, my surfer poet friend, could translate French
and Spanish poetry, so he translated a lot of French and Spanish surrealists. I have been
fed on a steady diet of surrealist writers, and fellow travelers. I have been influenced
by all sorts of poets , writers, and philosophers.

[WIREMAN]

surrealism permeates everything in our culture, has for umteen decades.....even without it's pope (andre breton) it survives...man ray and max ernst my favorites....ted joans and paul eluard hit me poetically....breton's nadja an important milestone in my literary discoveries of the early 70's....but i'd have to say max rules em all, with man ray takin a strong second...oh yeah, meret oppenheim's fur lined bowl and spoon is surrealism maximo.....

[revolutionR]

I met Ted Joans one day in City Lights books, because he had published a book
with his poetry , and a female surrealist Joyce Mansour. i talked to him, and
he gave me his phone number. Ted was a Beat/surrealist, who can be seen
reading his poem, Jazz is my Religion, from the 50's on Youtube.

[revolutionR]

Hitler himself said of surrealists and others like them , that they should be done away with.

Like I said I don't care what you call yourself, I on the other hand consider myself a surrealist
in spirit, I as much consider myself a Bobby Kaufman follower, A Bukowski believer, a Paul Celan , enthusiast:

Death Fugue


Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening
we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night
we drink and we drink
we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Marguerite
he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling
he whistles his hounds to come close
he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground
he orders us strike up and play for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margeurite
your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped
He shouts jab this earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play
he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue
jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margeurite
your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays with his vipers
He shouts play death more sweetly Death is a master from Deutschland
he shouts scrape your strings darker you'll rise then in smoke to the sky
you'll have a grave then in the clouds there you won't lie too cramped

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland
we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink
this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue
he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete
he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air
he plays with his vipers and daydreams
der Tod is ein Meister aus Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Shulamith

A Lorca lover, especially Poet in New York

[revolutionR]

I was on a site for years called Deoxy, it had a lot of information, of people
like Tim Leary, Robert Anton Wilson, Terence Mckenna, Alan Watts, ect.
there was a forum and a chat board that was very active, I started a thread
on the forum called poets of chaos, it was very active, you could hang out
all day long on the chat board, and people did, there was a person on there
that called himself psychoscream, I don't know what drugs he was on, or meds
but his presence on Deoxy was to attack and disrupt, some people seemed
to identify with that, in any case, it caused a lot of mayhem, and constant
attacks, shit piling the board with the psycho stuff. The internet thing was still
new to me, I was trying to figure out what it was all about, where it was going.
I was not interested in computer games, I was interested in what I could learn about
language on the internet, and as I am a poet, that was my way to learn. I got into
a lot of running battles with psychoscream, and others, trolls, and people on
drugs that were angry. When I first went on Deoxy, it was fun, entertaining, and
people were sincere and I had a lot of great exchanges, things changed perceptibly
after 9/11, and the DEoxy site changed too, it got more weird, and the site owner
would kick people off the board for months at a time, i never really got along with
him either. After having experienced battles with people like psychoscream, I learned how to ignore people that seem hostile, like that creep Jeffry. Also if I do defend myself against
hostile people that call themselves critics on Algonquin's table, the owner of the site
sides with them.

[Doreen Peri]

I worship the Grand Pooh Dada Sir Eel.
I feel my surge through enlightenment
as excitement, make no mistake
about it. There is no way I could fake
this orgasmic quake of earth shattering
delight! Sometimes I get so darn aware,
I scare myself until my face is as white
as a ghost. I welcome a host of realizations!
Each moment is a unique creation. One day
I will be a sage seer! That moment gets nearer
and nearer or it appears to, just like your side
rear view mirror. Sing it with your axe, pumpin'
the pedal on the wawa! All hail to the Grand Pooh
Doodoo Sir Eel Dada!

[revolutionR]

before Dada there was Ubu Roi.

[Doreen Peri]

U be, we be, they be.
Rah rah roi!