Sunday, May 26, 2013
A video poem by Marcio-Andre, a Brazilian performer and sound artist. The first part is a bit repetitive, but if you can hold tight, the middle and end are more active, with the words "versa" (with various meanings in Portuguese, including that of poetic verse) and "materia" (matter, subject) seeming to war with one another, in sound and space. Finally, the whole thing dissolves in a cacophony of memes. View Marcio Andre's video here.
at 4:26 PM
Saturday, May 18, 2013
In My Galactic Muumuu I Murmur My Mumbo Jumbo
The myna bird is singing in its far off room.
The mustang still is roaming on the plains.
I lay my head beneath the mushroom,
Looking up at the dome of the mycelium,
A maze of filaments, of positive fungus.
Once upon a time, you and I
Were unicellular; identity was easy. (And not.)
This morning, I woke and adorned myself
In my galactic muumuu.
Like a deck of cards spread
Upon a lap upon a lawn
Upon a lawn upon a marsh
Upon a water table
I lay out my mumbo jumbo
For the congregations, which hum.
They call me multipara, woman
Who has given birth two
Or more times, or to more than one
Offspring at one time.
They burst through my organs—
One from the kidney, one from
The liver, one from the spleen.
If it is anything, this life,
It is mutual;
So mutual it hurts.
I asked you—I begged you—to return
Me to the desert
So I could sing the opening again,
You know, the opening of creation.
Somehow a scratch on stone,
Somehow a rock’s cross hatch
Into wolf morphs.
Into coyote shifts.
I sit cross legged at the base of the cliffs.
And the ancestors hover
Above my shoulder
Like waiting thunder.
And to any who can listen—
To those who can hear—
And when I hear it myself
I mutter, I murmur
This mumbo jumbo.
I took the photos above in the desert near Las Vegas, Nevada.
at 10:39 AM