[ andy warhol ate my campbell soup]

[wylde]

.

despaired roaches shuffle
soiling aspirations refuted legacies.
hissing feet powdering unchalked traces -
spoored spores of imprinted ugly







shhhhh... i'll leave no trace
nor pretend to occupy space
washer of waves expands and contracts
nothing but the wash of unwashed nothingness
no needles or needs of pin pointed exact
nor blurred lines feigning impotent prowess.
just a vacuum. defining not being in tact

.

[WIREMAN]

surfin the parlays
pluckin the pearls

[Doreen Peri]

Peekaboo WyldeONE!
You left a trace of my heart
in a part of my soul, whole,
unfolded, ready for contractions,
stammers on my tongue, the young
girl clicking the light on
so we could recite
while moths hovered!
Oh what a beautiful night
when I touched the washed
garment to your cheek,
microwaved to the peak of heat,
me bending over you to kiss
the soul of you when you awakened,
nothing taken, all given, heaven
released from a prison in the foothills
of the appalachians, cravin' for coffee
at dawn! PeekaBOO! Great to see you!
Glad you got yer karma on, brotha!
You're HEALED baby, healed! Can ya feel it?
Got that lover to seal the deal. Wouldn't want
the taunt of my plea to insist ya, but damn,
i've missed ya, passionate to know the universe
didn't throw you away. Lay low, babe, lay low.
Play with the fire of words and the love of a dawn
and don't forget to get whatever it is you need to get on
ON in the morning, WyldeOne! OK, I'm done. Just wanted
to pipe in and tell you how relieved I know the show biz
stitches healed. Your heart is poundin' in my head.
If you weren't still alive, WyldeOne, I'd be dead
from grief. Love ya brotha.

[the mingo]

somebody ate Glen Campbell ? OMG ! - dirty bastards!

[wylde]

despaired roaches shuffle
soiling aspirations refuted legacies. >>> I love nonsense but this ain't no flexographic juxtaposition nor atomic horsebox

hissing feet powdering unchalked traces - >>> - ??? as above
spoored spores of imprinted ugly >>> imprinted ugly seems interesting
the spore spore no work work for me...

nothing but the wash of unwashed nothingness >>> nothingness seems precise

OK. Seems random thymus and wedged alterations swaddled in an enigmatic blank it of impenetrable semi coated gibberish and jabberwocky. I want to like this
more than I do.

That said. Composing really good jabberwocky is very difficult
and requires twisting mines.

Keep hammerin.

....hi ton...as you may not be familiar as some as the others on the site who know me and my "style", of how I express myself, through a torrent of whisperscreaming mindpainting poetry - let me try to provide a little insight, which may or may not help. it may be of no value at all. but that is not my hope or wish, but accept it as that might well be.

1stly. let me include a picture taken in - 1964 - of andy Warhol actually buying tins of cambell's soup on second avenue New York; Photo by Bob Adelman:



...that was just for fun

I use all the language devices of my resources: onomatopoeia; alliteration; metaphor; plosives; and most importantly, ‘phonetics’ - the sound of words and language. I used my vocabulary as a resource, conveying my personal experience of orchestral mind music. In essence translating that mind music into English language, with total abandon and without framework or limiting structure.

Linear understanding has little, in fact nothing to do with it.

I am a performing non performing poet.
Allow me to (slightly) explain myself. Bear in mind that the evolution of science brings us today into the realms of Quantum Mechanics, which states “everything is probable”.

pretty much like the analogy I often use, when viewing an abstract piece of art, like from Jackson Pollock, but in place of pigments and brushes I use vocabulary and any appropriate english language / literature devices I know of to express a particular personal experience.
what and how the reader views or draws from what I've written may be entirely different to the circumstances of the words and experience that initiated the writ.


my work.
when allowed, as it should be;
should be screamed silently aloud upon
and within the intimate theatre / stage
of your, or ones, own mind.
every performance, every experience, unique.
hopefully it touches you in some way.
perhaps even with some value.
worst case scenario; it leaves you cold.

most importantly I endeavour to express my experience and connection with the music of emotional, on a core primal level. The music which takes me and touches me, and runs its fingers through the hair of my mind.

my only wish is that it in some way - that it resonates or connects with the reader.

I say way too much. I am sincerely not trying to be condescending in anyway. just trying to cover what I do from aardvark to zygote as succinctly as possible. as you can tell.
not easy for me to be succinct.

here is an interview judih did some time ago with myself; it is laborious uneasy reading, but for what its worth, here it is:
https://talkingnow.wordpress.com/2010/1 ... glas-knox/

peace n loves your way.

riteon

[wylde]

surfin the parlays
pluckin the pearls

wireman; the tsunami waves back ever rippling
avoiding pigs ears as a purse
as much as can be.
thanks.

riteon.

[wylde]

Peekaboo WyldeONE!
You left a trace of my heart
in a part of my soul, whole,
unfolded, ready for contractions,
stammers on my tongue, the young
girl clicking the light on
so we could recite
while moths hovered!
Oh what a beautiful night
when I touched the washed
garment to your cheek,
microwaved to the peak of heat,
me bending over you to kiss
the soul of you when you awakened,
nothing taken, all given, heaven
released from a prison in the foothills
of the appalachians, cravin' for coffee
at dawn! PeekaBOO! Great to see you!
Glad you got yer karma on, brotha!
You're HEALED baby, healed! Can ya feel it?
Got that lover to seal the deal. Wouldn't want
the taunt of my plea to insist ya, but damn,
i've missed ya, passionate to know the universe
didn't throw you away. Lay low, babe, lay low.
Play with the fire of words and the love of a dawn
and don't forget to get whatever it is you need to get on
ON in the morning, WyldeOne! OK, I'm done. Just wanted
to pipe in and tell you how relieved I know the show biz
stitches healed. Your heart is poundin' in my head.
If you weren't still alive, WyldeOne, I'd be dead
from grief. Love ya brotha.

doors of perception my dearest wonderful woman. my skin crawls sandpapered with goose flesh as tears well deep depths drawing fluidities.

that magical night. when the music never died as we ate American pie and danced in verse in chorus and unity.

few words. but overflowing with sincerity and pure love and joy and beauty with just a smidgen pigeon of sadness.

im so alive; when I die the bastards will havta beat me to death!

[wylde]

somebody ate Glen Campbell ? OMG ! - dirty bastards!

OMG! I hope so!! another rhinestone cowboy? please say its true!?

heh

[Doreen Peri]

doors of perception my dearest wonderful woman. my skin crawls sandpapered with goose flesh as tears well deep depths drawing fluidities.

that magical night. when the music never died as we ate American pie and danced in verse in chorus and unity.

few words. but overflowing with sincerity and pure love and joy and beauty with just a smidgen pigeon of sadness.

im so alive; when I die the bastards will havta beat me to death!

♥ ♥ ♥

[dune]

Andy decided to paint soup cans at one point, because he suspected the whole runaway consume and buy and breed-breed thing might eventually start to run us off the rails, well, unless we were clever enough to keep gouging the rock and get away with it.

Yeah, these collisions were bound to happen..

[wylde]

I use all the language devices of my resources: onomatopoeia; alliteration; metaphor; plosives; and most importantly, ‘phonetics’ - the sound of words and language. >>> what, no garanimals??? And "phonetics." Get out!

I used my vocabulary as a resource, conveying my personal experience of orchestral mind music. >>> Really? "Mind music?" Wowser. And this is distinct from "ear music?" Beyond that. I think most peeps use their vocab as a resource. Tho I've cooked tempeh with mine.

In essence translating that mind music into English language, with total abandon and without framework or limiting structure. >>> lusciously languidly louvered amid stale processions proofing iguana flora fluted aura! That's dandy stuff. Not sure why. I'm compelled to write; dear Wilbur. It must be meds time.

Linear understanding has little, in fact nothing to do with it. >>> really? So that's inconsistent with my feedback???

I am a performing non performing poet. >>> sounds paradoxical. You may need chakra alignment. Results may vary.

Allow me to (slightly) explain myself. Bear in mind that the evolution of science brings us today into the realms of Quantum Mechanics, which states “everything is probable”. >>> Dang. So you're like a quantificator? Amateur atom smasher? Word collider? Beyond original! You should invent a board game!

OK. NOW I GET "IT!"

Your shit is so "heady" (nuevo trans pseudo judo muse sickle) the average schlepper just ain't gonna get "you."

Like I said. No work for me.

But hey. Maybe Pollock or Max Planck would get it.

The opinion gears expressed herein aardvark unless otherwise sanded.

peace n loves your way >>> back at ya (see your @CERN)

"Miniature black holes could prove large pores."

I see no point in exploring areas that have already been thoroughly surveyed.
~William S. Burroughs~

"Painting is a blind man's profession. He paints not what he sees, but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen."
~ Pablo Picasso~

“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”
~ Pablo Picasso~

dearest Ton

the quotes provided are not to convince or assist, or "make you" like or understand what I do. they simply reflect how and what I do and why. and that wont change. as much as you have every right to ridicule or not enjoy nor even read, anything I write.

but. sincerely. this is by far not the first time, nor im positive, the last that a person wont connect in any way. and that's cool. for sure.

anywhichway love and respects, sincerely, back atcha .

wylde

[wylde]

Andy decided to paint soup cans at one point, because he suspected the whole runaway consume and buy and breed-breed thing might eventually start to run us off the rails, well, unless we were clever enough to keep gouging the rock and get away with it.

Yeah, these collisions were bound to happen..

bro:

exactly. one of the things is he also made is a 24hr film of the empire state building through the day and night; reflecting the random nature at night of lights being switched on and off.

a precursor perhaps of societies obsession today with "reality" tv - even 24hr shows of watching people live and sleep.

who knows.

I think with only finite resources the bloated worlds train will eventually leak and exude its consumptions as it finally grinds to a halt on the rails, with the predicted unspectacular whimper; rather than wreck.

but who knows. perhaps magic faeries from the milky whey land and save us all. who knows.




I personally seriously believe it too late. but some never give up trying for global change:

"Hey you wild writers, artists and activists out there,
We’re starting work on Adbusters #120 — Part 3 of our Manifesto for World Revolution series and we need your help to pull it off.
The world is plunging into a crazy, chaotic nomo era that does not compute. Our 7-billion person experiment is falling apart before our eyes. If global temperatures keep rising, we fast-forward to unparalleled global drought, famine, ecocide, corruption and terror on a scale never seen before. Out of the turmoil, the world’s first climate war will emerge.
We need bold new visions and thrusts to veer us onto a path of radical sustainability. Manifesto for World Revolution presents a visionary flash and we hope you will pitch in and help us make it come alive.
Send us your salvoes, epiphanies, inspirations, meditations, confessions, grievances, metaphysical musings, manifestos … your adventures of resistance and dispatches from the front lines.
Send heartfelt letters, stories, rants, photographs, artwork and sublime poetry to ignite change, inspire action and touch the rebel in our hearts.

No boring essays please — keep it intimate, visceral and real.
Send your submission to editor@adbusters.org no later than April 7.
Check out our Mindbombs campaign.
And remember,

Team Adbusters"

http://subscribe.adbusters.org/

good luck to them!!

all I can try change is myself and my own little world.

hope you're still a rockstar!

love n peace n all.

[wylde]

I need to retroproactively apologize for knot tying
as opposed to an open-ended contribution to
"explore areas that have already been
thoroughly non-surveyed."

I also find periodic quoteability vis-à-vis Bertrand Russell,
Edvard "The Colonel " Sanders, Martha "Burnt Cookies"
Stewart and any damn fine shiksa recipe (but not that
fatty gluttonous japass "barefoot catnessa" bitch)!

Bottom line. If

POME needs splainin. POME no work.
At least for the frog in that scummy pond.

Hence. Rule #1 as a pome rider -- never
get involved splainin your shit.

In the rare case someone does not comprehend
YOUR transcendence as an artist and unicorn
wrangler -- simply thank them for takin the
temporal wave to your shore and don't try to
baffle peeps with bullshit.

Some of those readers may understand entanglement,
and the implications thereof, far more than you do.

My .02.

Prior disclaimers remain fully intact.
Progesterone inhibitors recommended.

T N

deares ton - all cool in da hood bro.

whether you personally, or anyone else feels, my poetry is either bullshit or connects with it with some value - is utterly and totally (personally) fine either way - for me.

that it has provoked some questioning from you, I feel is great, and rather have it strongly questioned or even vilified (as it has been, either way for decades) as some sort of victory, as id far rather have that, than someone yawn and fall asleep to tea-towel hallmark poetry churned out on conveyor belts, loaded with sugar and salt or saccharine to increase the subliminal craving for it, to finally arrive with masses of people with bloated obese minds unexercised, except for changing tv channels with their remotes.

a long - but true sentence. I plead guilty to all of the above.

after only posting 2 poems, you may have an open enough mind to read few more, perhaps, before announcing your judgements, but feel fee to fully ignore or berate/question them further, as is you full right, which I entirely respect.
I may not or may not respond. which I believe my right of choice in return.

I do have unwavering; undying commitment to my poetry.



the only explaining I have to do, is answered entirely simply by this:

"if you don't have that thing then you aint got no swing."






peace and all that stuff your way.
thanks for the dance.

[Doreen Peri]

.
Dear wyldeOne ...

This has always been one of my most favorite funny things! It's a perfect test answer.



But YOU have always been one of my most favorite people.

I love how you radiate peace and love no matter what! You, sir, heal my heart.

Much love to you .... xoxox

[wylde]

doors - reconnecting (after years absence) is like simply inserting a plug into its socket. feeling comfortably at home; whilst the electricity vaults, authenticating both feelings.

in returns the healing conduits flows both ways.

thanks. as ever.