Saturday, April 24, 2004

heteronymity considered

wetsu- a heteronym devised to omit one significant aspect of your personality

for example: i decided to reinvent myself as a neoformalist poet who was NOT anti-war. i would write poems in verse in support of the troops, or against the faint-hearted. as a side product i decided to make my heteronym single instead of married; then i could write new poems of beginning love & perhaps rejection. all those emotions i have no reason to write about now.

snail weather- the features you devise for a heteronym

another heteronym i removed to a far city i had never been to. there is a radio station here that plays only 70's music (which, growing up with, i tend to despise): this would be the favorite of my alter ego. i investigate the local poets this one would have to contend with, as forebears or in reaction to.

Yeats's "Mask of the Anti-Self".
what will this do to my regular games?



Thanks to everyone for their support of As/Is 2, especially Benedict & Malcolm for agreeing to take over admin duties, including revamping the design a wee bit to make it more pleasing to the eye. Treat them like you would treat me - only nicer. If you wish to contact me, feel free to do so.
Thursday, April 22, 2004
Photography as Poetry

I am a political animal, so I hope that all of you will pardon me any of the politics I am about to say offends any of you. It is not my intent to do so.

Poetry is about free expression. It is perhaps the most free form of human expression ever devised. It can be beautiful or it can be ugly. It can be current or it can be ageless. It can be simple emotions or it can be wildly political. Poetry does not care. It reaches out to embrace all of this.

It is a quite similar inspiration that besets those with a camera in hand. So many photots are taken seeking just those few that are exactly right. Exactly poetry, and needing no further words. Tami Silicio did this and got fired.

Since 1991, photographing of the caskets of dead U.S. soldiers has been banned. It was a ban that was never enforced until now. Tami Silicio took a series of photos of this, and one got published in the Seattle Times. This is what she was fired for.

Tami Silicio did not have any political intent in her mind when she gave her photos over to the press. Instead, she was just awed by the great reverence with which we treat our fallen soldiers, and wanted the rest of us to know that we were indeed acting in that fashion. Nothing more. She saught to exault the dead; not exploit them. And she was fired for that.

Later that day, they also fired her husband for what she had done.

Photo 1Photo 2

If a picture is worth a thousand words, Tami Silicio has made her point.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
What are we doing to ourselves?

Why are we so focused on infecting others with our fears?

Why are we so intent on spreading them to our children?

What are we doing to ourselves?

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

The Hay(na)ku Anthology: A Submissions Call

Mark Young has asked me to post the following announcement:


Meritage Press is pleased to announce a Submissions Call for THE HAY(NA)KU ANTHOLOGY, co-edited by Jean Vengua and Mark Young. Deadline: December 31, 2004. Send submissions (cut and pasted in body of e-mail) to:
Please submit no more than ten (10) hay(na)ku.
Full details are available at the Hay(na)ku blog

A Late Start

Since I have had so much to say it is only fair to place myself in the opposite position. So here is something you can chew through.

No No

this house
you are
I am
your arm

my skin leaps
off me
and I collapse

a paper house
with toothpick

Knock to the
sound of
tearing tissue.

Ask questions
and for fifty

I may answer.


Monday, April 19, 2004

Au Revoir

I have decided to take a break from all internet activities. For the next while I will only be checking my email every week or so. If anyone wants to take over the administration of this weblog kindly let me know.

The Blood Is...

Submitted for yr discussion - add, subtract, multiply or divide as you will:

The Blood Is...

The blood is a crimson metronome.
The blood is a parachute of amethyst formeldahyde.
The blood is a sleepless night in abrasive pyjamas.
The blood is a red zinnia blooming with prayer.
The blood is the velocity of a palomino locomotive that comes from nowhere.
The blood is a pyroclastic surge of bloodstone ink.
The blood is the radiant flux of the vein's love for the body.
The blood is the shine of meat.
The blood is the osmosis of sea and skin.
The blood is the raspberry whetstone sharpening the eye's edge.
The blood is spasmodic paradise.
The blood is a smooth adder's tongue.
The blood is a tabernacle of binding energy.
The blood is a liquid warehouse of salt.
The blood is an arterial locomotive.
The blood is a thirst for pulse.
The blood is amethyst altzimuth of basilica star.
The blood is both prism and peephole.
The blood is also Zermolo's axiom.
The blood is a paper tiger stalking ashes.
The blood is the bonelace maker for the primordial courtesan.
The blood is Ground-Zero for Godzilla.
The blood is free-range calligraphy.
The blood is the resurrection man.
The blood is the glow of insurgent pesticide.
The blood is the taproot of Heaven's weathervane.
The blood is the rapier of the rose.
The blood is the sawdust in the workshop of determinism.
The blood is the scientific calculator of ancient Mesopatamia.
The blood is the silver locust.
The blood is the viscera laundromat.
The blood is the carrier-wave of sacrifice mechanismo.
Sunday, April 18, 2004

Book Announcement

Vanishing Points of Resemblance
by Tom Beckett

"Here we have a hybrid work, an autobiotextography, where the text qua Subject qua authorial voice-over invokes selected events of a (his?) life (which is also the life of the (creation of the) text) with clarity and a fully self-conscious honesty."
--John Byrum

21 pages, perfect-bound paperback
$7.00 US

To order, send check to:

Generator Press
3503 Virginia Avenue
Cleveland, OH 44109

Inquiries to:

Have at it

Here is a poem to say something about, if you feel like it, and maybe a chance for revenge. It's small. You could kill it with a swipe.
A space-craft
we fashioned
from glass and
solder and bright
copper leaf
has arrived at
the farthest moon
and sent back first
silhouettes of
Eisenhower's dog