Fate, Faith & Random Sentence Generators

Literary Flights and The Push Pun Pins

Em Trems

Em is for Emily Dickenson. Trem is for trembles.

Sitting at the windowsill. Wondering about an exchange of language that happens around me. Suddenly its getting rich again. Language, that is implemented as a devil-may-care kind of sorcery. It occurs for me as an arsenal, of goodness, pastiche, reasoning, reticence, also bugsbunnyness, that is both inclement and self mocking w.r.t. to its freedoms.

An evil thing? an allowance thing an indulgence thing… that always turns and goes both ways. To mention it is to allow it to live, is to listen up against the sill, for the infernal internal visualization of rim and rhyme. And what loops in it, of the surreal, the real, the absurd, the serious, the blunt, the paradoxical —

Emily can approach paradox with such a strong hand yet, when decides on ending it, prithee gentle with conversions comes to her command. She’s musical in her variations. Works at it over and over until it answers her (conundrum of) prayers. (Snares, shares…)

I became and remain hub cessed with how Emily phantoms, I mean fathoms, her endings, the endings of her poems.

LuLu and the Cat a Combs

LuLu is main figure in a book I am working on. She is in Paris, is going to visit the catacombs where there are neat piles of Paris Dead — so she can be shocked into submission? Smell remedy of bones as an endless underground, feel one with their passing. A sacred relic of relief.

While still exploring materiality with Pessoa as a hopeless beautiful nocturne of “just” being.

Victor, in the LuLu book, is whats known in Dantean sparkle, as the Beatrice. And the more I dig the more the narrative creates an assembly that keeps on reinventing itself.

I dont pursue character as vehicle? This is big consideration on the Parm Farm. Random Sentence Generators suck up language as play dough, distortions evolve, contortion ripples out with rediculous rainbow, and the wonder Dharma…

Hi found that it can be raided, stock string-able back, to mountain fountain flow with W. Shakespeare, ruse fuse about dollars for donuts colossus with English Lit kit and flit, embroidering at sinks and brinks, progeny rhyme folding into depiction fiction.

Bias, prayers and wasteland, threading it all through “His” holy balls, as a spring loaded virgin, gape rape suzette, adorned with a rage that religion never tires of — And that is how I think about character?

Kind of, kind of…

Its unfixed, caught up in an oceanic mix. Streaks of continuity. Always seeking reinvention. Dante my Dante, in Chart Room (with an Ax).

An eternal diurnal infernal dizzy-ness that totters and descends into symptoms of reality.

I dont think of reality as a fizzy of symptoms, except piratically in reverse. At the immediacy of truth something else always happens.

Char and Rhet

Char Tar and The Rhet (alas, with the wind). Two signifiers I pulled out the Parm, for vignettes. Parm is for parm i john, slippery trespassings, based on randomizers — that I pulled cues out of, buffing to a shine or line, used (and abused) as diffident treasure.

Rhet is for rhetoric. And char is a form that is slippery, a character set, that is not viewed in the singular. But as a set of Looseys. Loosey requires very little materiality. Even tho those who have used this method, whom I gained access to its use whereby (Beckett and Lispector), they do explore ways to bring materiality in, as “just” is and relief.

Char are tyrant mimics? that hoard after the sublime, contract and counteract, visions on the metaphysical that include runs on puns, and nonsense rhymes — being an American, they cache in on cartoons too.

I wanted to be set free from Michelangelo school of fiction, cartoons chase after me in rhyme time, hex animating the meta, as burden of having a soul, that is restless and contrary — and represents a kind of insurrection that goes on and on between beauty terror perversity and the fellini grotesque, in my knitting — beauty overborn versus ugliness in relief.

Tho lo, be wary — for nonsense torments, makes a mockery of The Fundamentals… which must overcome to make any sense of it.