28 August 2009
well, I stand up next to a mountain - and I chop it down with the edge of my hand.. (voodoo chile: jimi hendrix)
listen: listen - my sisters – to the syllables, the syllables
poet: yr sitting on this wasted red country - a political dystopia: a brand new system now recommended by most post-sheep’s-back billionaires and rabid-rim-job taxation-officers – in cars
theme: ultra-violent cashed-up-nutritionists, plus twenty-two-percent of flammable psychologists - and fifty-five point five solid-cream-fat neurologists - bangin at the gates of a detention centre urologist – in cars
and now they listen at apology speeches wrapped in union jack n stars on beaches
and i stand up next to a mountain... in cars
and then our sorry generation of tears to break the droughts of murray-darling cotton farms, remembering Anzacs like broken biscuits on the sweetest shores of cannon-fodder obedience – of blind dominance of rats on a boat – in cars
a porn-skool swimming-pool gorgon nightmare, the flatback turtle happy to hurt the carnivorous expansion of another island, wheelbarrows of cunts, telling each other to fuck off because we’re somehow full of burning racist stubble, the fascist bubble, an intellectual equivalent of a one-digit gesture at a festival of poets – in cars
back on the mainland we’re peeling back our foreskins, aiming at the pigs, barking at the dogs, gnashing at the bacon, baking at the bikini tensions – the syllables, oh syllables –in cars
well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island - might even raise a little sand - I don’t take no for an answer - well, I stand up next to a mountain - and I chop it down with the edge of my hand
simile: like stunning corporate laces of a perfect corset, snapping at the straining eyelets, busting out in terrorist gangs, leaping the ethnic fences of air-conditioned harbour bridges - our naked backs lashed n split skin the rock-salt of the left divided by the right - like an anarchist knitting circle, a moshpit of broken dreams, the guitar hammers waltzing matilda, yr neck arched high at the strobes, the crucifix of my baritone manifesto – in cars
metaphor: tearin up the tree-lined streets on the way to buy more vitamins i sold my steel soul to titanium, rubber and lube – my erection of utterances, of stanza upon fucking stanza – together man we make the meaning – like shaving yr triangle with my broken angle grinder – in cars
and the sixteen muscles of my flexing tongue, the semiotic syllable the syllable, the syllable...
well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island - might even raise a little sand - I don’t take no for an answer - well, I stand up next to a mountain - and I chop it down with the edge of my hand... in cars
allanboyd antipoet- august 28, 2009
24 August 2009
The word "anarchy" is from the Greek, prefix an (or a), meaning "not," "the want of," "the absence of," or "the lack of", plus archos, meaning "a ruler," "director", "chief," "person in charge," or "authority." Or, as Peter Kropotkin put it, Anarchy comes from the Greek words meaning "contrary to authority." [Anarchism, p. 284]
"Anarchism . . . teaches the possibility of a society in which the needs of life may be fully supplied for all, and in which the opportunities for complete development of mind and body shall be the heritage of all . . . [It] teaches that the present unjust organisation of the production and distribution of wealth must finally be completely destroyed, and replaced by a system which will insure to each the liberty to work, without first seeking a master to whom he [or she] must surrender a tithe of his [or her] product, which will guarantee his liberty of access to the sources and means of production. . . Out of the blindly submissive, it makes the discontented; out of the unconsciously dissatisfied, it makes the consciously dissatisfied . . . Anarchism seeks to arouse the consciousness of oppression, the desire for a better society, and a sense of the necessity for unceasing warfare against capitalism and the State." [Anarchy! An Anthology of Emma Goldman's Mother Earth, pp. 23-4] SOURCE: Anarchist FAQ
Speak, scream, howl, whisper or sing your original poem at the Australian Poetry Slam 09 – an electric live eventght where the audience is the judge! Slam heats are currently being held in city and regional venues across Australia until November 2009. Two finalists from each slam heat will compete in their state final.
10 August 2009
- Saturday 26 September 2009 - Experimental Writing - No borders No notions - Resisting meaning, gaining texture - 1pm - 3.30 pm
- Saturday 10 October 2009 - Performance Poetry - Stand and deliver: Bringing your words to life - 1pm - 3.30 pm
09 August 2009
As posted below, I've submitted for dotdotdash - a spunky fresh-tasting collective of writers, artists, journalists and bloggers. These audacious folks are putting out a "quarterly print journal of new artworks, stories, comics, poetry and creative non-fiction..." They also host a blog.
Some of them were CW students of mine - very inspiring young writers indeed!
First issue comes out in September 2009, second issue scheduled for December 2009.
Read More: dotdotdash.org/
I'm MCing (and posing in Blac Blocs) at their Launch Party on SEPTEMBER 4, 2009: facebook.com/event.php?eid=89980729819
Get into it!