orpheus

Orpheus I

‘…Foolish? (…) To speak always seriously provokes irritation. To be always witty, contempt. To philosophy always, sadness. To jest always, uneasiness. I have played every role, according to the time and occasion, and once in a while I have also been court jester. But this evening, if you tell the story well, it will not have been a comedy but rather, a fine tragedy.’

Umberto Eco in ‘The Island of the Day Before’

INTRO:

La vraie vie des homos a Metropolis
C’est la desertation
La prevention
Des themes hyperpointus de
Certaines theses,
Le double vie d’un jardin pas secret –
Retranscrire des talents ordinaries,
Beaucoup de detresse.

[Sebastian Credence, in ‘Absence de l’Air’.]


POETRY -
Might be captivation------------------------------FASCINATION /
Metal scrapping on feng shui--------------------ZEN TECHNO /
Artificial life [captivation again in the shades of phrases, obsessions,
biographies;]


or the

Introducing of ideas [subjectivism = alienation of reality;] lofty; distant.

and of particular oddity (dream thinking, abusive order of logic) - ORPHEUS* and its MYTHS.

A BOOK OF ANACHRONISMS: The music of Johan Sebastian Bach sounds strange in space. Vater Unser Im Himmerlreich Freut Euch, WAS DANCING NAKED, THE LITTLE BREASTS PULSATING IN THE WARM AND RAISINS, THE BEATING OF DRUMS – ALL AT ONCE, THE MEMORIES OF GOLDEN FAREWELLS. (These words don’t make any sense. Like everything else in this HORIZON. I REALISED THE EYES BEHIND THE SCROLL FOLDING WERE Classical music from centuries ago. But he made me listen to Indian and Tibetan music and I found COLOURS, A MAZE OF INDECIPHERABLE PLAN – CHANGES GIVEN FORM  FUTURE GATES - And everything that he had seen and felt danced in front of his eyes. Outside, he could see through the window, the sun was rising behind the mountains, and he said to himself: SINGING MY NAME SLOWLY, IN A MOROCCAN ALIKE LULLABY, THE VOICE shit, I’m tired, leave me alone, FUCK. TRUST THE DJ THIS IMAGINED OASIS OF SINGING NAKED GODS AND FOLDING. You refuse to mix, why?   EXAMPLE (from Aeschylus’ ‘Agamemnon’) :

Eyes brimming with condolence
Where no true sting of sorrow pricks the heart,
So now some harsh embittered faces, forced
Into a seemly smile, will welcome you,
And hide the hearts of traitors
Beneath their feigned rejoicing.
STATING:
Psychological dimension +
Myth (mythology) +     
Stance + Political and Human Scale +
Collective Rules +
Form + Images +
Autochthonous origins.

1. > XYLIN ROOM [OCTANDRE]

Beat pattern 16 x 7.30 chimes

Played once more

Moved halfway

Forgetting

The roar of time

They all call

Proceeded to materialise

Drizzling

Not hearing

So much trouble hearing

So much trouble remembering.

Far out at sea

The room

The central POEM

The words

Restrictions, horoscopes,

Marshals, omnipresent inertia

Admonitions

Painted monsters

Mother love at the time

Firmly channelled never extrudes

Of blessed decorum:

Everyday our wonderment

Wonders what every man feels

For long is the night to come.

In bed with a lover

Swallow permanence

Salvation

Plaintive sound

Alluvial gods!

Wonderment moon

Expires certainty

Immutable as cinders

Harps forgotten,

Glint.

Alexander admitted he was wrong

Do I hate him? Yes, inferiority proves

Fights and kings – downcast and force –

incidentally your last resort;

your cemetery here –

a last gate of trouble mixed with prey.

This is my offer loud and clear

acknowledging my transgressions:

Fuzz of dust

Foretaste of pain

Unable to comprehend

Endless games

Not hearing

Tree-trunks thunder

Scratched geraniums rupturing

Gusty arpeggios, lemon, yellow and blue

Cheaper room

Earshot strange minute crept in

Mossy tears thoughtfully

Erasing inspiration. / repeated

Repeat beat pattern + chimes

Involves the presence of a ghost

The whole business

Cause-effect

(madness to explain) dragons

imprecise feelings

common ignorance

fundamental presence

frozen fascination – the room

of cards flakes into the old,

the past.

Yesterdays’ papers

Temporary things

Disposable sex

Fire unburn

Scars on the mirror

A friend killed

[the boy masturbates] / The number on the wall

the horizon printed in tears

blood remain / green

shed metal

recession/ed hand movements

composing a temporary language

no decent happiness,

but remains the unphamtommable

smile

the excuse of death

imageless thick as mud > Dr. Mabuse

what has he to say?

All things are bitter.

London! Black / green

Swamp.

The current flows.

 

‘An argument of an impression, words of moons and electronic circuits, loops and repetitions, echoes of words of a person, are always more interesting if not effective if they are signalled down by characters or persons of inventions and lies, cited or quoted or exemplified by parts or excerpts of paintings, music or dramas. Thus consciousness will expand and bring things and thoughts and poetic imaginary of universal differences. Thus we will recall images of beauty, abstract ceremonies of beauty.’

ROBERT KAKUTAMI in ‘Convex Brain’, 1978.

to be continued...