Coyote Trails

[the mingo]

Writing is not a language but a form of technology ( Wikipedia )

reading this statement a few minutes ago was like a cup of coffee - I had never thought about it before -

there is so much wreckage banging up against itself in my brain - because statements like this tend to tear apart existing structures in favor of its own matrix so flotsam & jetsam scatter off in all directions to go whirling - the moment called "now" is a false identification of something that does not exist - the "past" & the "future" are a seamless whole undivided by any "now" -

there is no scriptural evidence or other documentary source that angels ever used the word "now" - no angel has ever said "live now!" or "live in the now!" - perhaps we use it as a kind of braking effect on insanity -

think i'll have some toast - right now

[MrGuilty]

Re: feel free to choose a topic!

Postby Arcadia » Yesterday, 10:52 am
What´s so great about now? oh well, good question...!

http://www.tricycle.com/dharma-talk/wha ... -about-now

[the mingo]

i opened your link - holy rooty-tooty-toot-toot! hahahahahaha (tears coming to eyes)

[the mingo]

came across the term "asemic writing" this morning - i been doing this shit for years & years going back to sitting in study hall on the third floor of the school building but I didn't know it had a name - i thought i was just doodling ya know? so today i discover it has a name and a lot of hoodoo written about it - so i googled - click-click-click - came across an article written by a guy to the northeast of me over in the real mountains - Lake Placid no less - copied out the end paragraph of his article ...

There is something frightening to the concept of poetry in these gestures of ours, something eerie in our ability to see or create written messages that we cannot read. But that is as it should be. Asemic writing is the supreme writing of our age, a glossolalic age. After we have overused the word until it lies meaningless before us, after our process of speaking and writing has come to naught, all that is left for the poets is to pretend to write. These poets may speak or sing words that do not exist. They may write words that cannot be pronounced. And that makes them the most perfect poets of our world, which is merely a streaming sequence of fragmented images backed by a musical score changing with each blink.

- Geof Huth

don't know about all that but i do know that all that doodling of mine was always a pleasure -
which to me was always the reward & the whole point - I never let anybody see that stuff but don't have to worry about it anymore cause it has a name - asemic writing

hell yeah Mongolia

THE LAST LIVING ASEMIC WIDOW TELLS ALL

[stilltrucking]

from the wicki

meaning leaks from molecules Sylvia Somebody

I always liked that line
her poetry is frightening but I am not sure that is what he meant

What ever it is that you write, I mean what ever you want to call it
I am grateful you do it.

homo sapiens
the sense makers
bemused by words

[the mingo]

this is not my original post - it was lame - just wanted to say thx, Jack

[the mingo]

... my woman brings me news
of the break up of the ice in the river -
a crow hails me as I bring the garbage
to set by the road for pick-up -
there is nothing absolutely unnecessary
in every breath ...

[silent woman]

no woman no cry
but the morning brings me ku from judih and something from mingo

it's worth getting up for
nothing is necessary except the breath
I would keep breathing anyway
but studio eight makes it more fun

her man
she had so many
why do they need us
as appendages to their lives
god made monkeys to amuse him
woman made men to amuse her?

bike riding weather is here again
as good as it gets
happy trails

[the mingo]

... he made that clear to me at once. She was Russian - and a princess, no less. He was bubbling over with excitement, like a child that has just found a new toy. "She speaks five languages!" he said, obviously overwhelmed by such an accomplishment.
Tropic of Cancer

Henry Miller

old echoes
fossilized

[the mingo]

oops - sorry Jack - we must have cross posted

[silent woman]

yeah

all her men wound up as enemies of the state
she loved beautiful losers

[the mingo]

Jack - just did some tracking down of Baron de Hirsch - what's your connection? How did your family come to be here?

[judih]

a long trail
we're all related
to life!

[the mingo]

ain't it the truth?
incredible!
and fascinating!

[the mingo]

men in costumes
inevitable as milk in cups
in the land where lubricants
are literature
as quick as stone
& a response to wind even lighter
than feathers
groupings & gatherings breaking camp
for higher country
a life of motion
standing still only long enough
for quick glimpses through the trees
of the moon