Friday, September 30, 2011

The page "Death is a hoax" does not exist.

You can ask for it to be created

Many examples exist of published writing with one sentence paragraphs.

A paragraph (from the Greek paragraphos, "to write beside" or "written beside") is a self-Contained unit of a discourse
in writing dealing with a Particular point or idea. A paragraph consists of one or more Sentences. The start of a paragraph with the
Indicated for beginning on a new line. Sometimes the first line is indented. At Various Times, The Beginning of a paragraph Has been Indicated by the pilcrow: ¶.

A written work-be it
an essay or a story-is about an idea or concept. An essay explains it, and the story it narrates. To help the reader Understand and enjoy it, or the Explanation Narration is broken down into units of text,
the paragraph. In an essay, each 'paragraph explains or demonstrates a key point or central thought of the idea, Usually it inform or persuade. In fiction, it serves each 'paragraph advance the plot, and Develop character, describe a scene or
an action-Narrate
all that Entertain the reader. All paragraphs support each 'other, leading the reader from the first idea to the final resolution of the written work.

Many students are taught the use and minimum number of Sentences in a paragraph or dry, and three five-Although length is not a determinant in Defining and paragraph.
Many examples exist of published writing with one sentence paragraphs.
hey joe
bingle in the instep
ripple at the chow
wrong a horse a plenty
see the couches slowing ow
stacked wisely i can see the merit
chalkboard dust nowhere around
the few who toddle swear by it
simmer molder reach abound

published successfully

in order to pull this through and out we'll weed along
and hamper nothing

Thursday, June 16, 2011

the intention, the discomfort, the wrong chair
i dream them
that's all. i don't write. i dream of being a dancer arrayed in her finery.
i dream of being this dancer aching with doubt, oh how they just want to write science fiction !
a marvelous operetta follows, decked out and super charged, all the while reclining on her couch of pillows.

i dream of the cities i'm building as an ace architect, made whole and functional by my cunning designs.
i dream of rock stardom, martyrdom and the parting of limousines for me
i dream of craft and vehicles, sod and spray
theres a hobbit house in the perfect valley, there's a kitchen and a bath
studio and room and guests of course and board the likes we've only dreamt of.

this is the thing that wretches

to write goth fiction for kids
i can make believe anyway i want to
all this ? that's me okaying
green light and ample cheer to the boxes and prisons i excrete
sheer bad
we know

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

i have morbid thoughts

my head is screaming i think that it's you my dark desires hidden true
to become a wounded martyr whose love he lost, a sick tortured prince high a top a twisted tower looked down upon the small wounds he thought he inflicted. his sad little lies wrote silent and slow. he wound his hair around his neck . he can never be sure, he may always have wanted
report the reporting already
live it up straight with words
screams from the throat
reporting fails when quivers in the field occur and they occur
comely models all
hero matrix
older guy
safe chaperoning for your child
the musicality of it of what
the dinosaur of this end in thought
the winged double spin no naught
and here we go in the morning

the simpering sing conflate
the national hymn to the state
the previous sin the marginal win
the squirming all night at the gate

and here we go a rockin'
and here we dock the talkin'
STOP !!!

xuieeeee ctryyeeeeee bweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
for fucking pages
ripping dry throats out

page turn

ok. no really in the seventies this shit would be printed with browny ink on stiff hippie papers
hiding nothing

to sing at peak voice to weave a bundle into radio
that opening
is hard torn to stay closed
the last thing you want to do is pull the cord spring the cable

jesus christ that's bad/. i mean evil. this is reduction spelled out. this is sheer banditry over anon
plethora plea pan pox
andea nor ka tox ka tox
meery a stone shot sling divorce
nary a horse to boast or bow

stinging shot blocks
brought thin vaneer
singing cock clocks
let us cheer ! who ra !

sinking in. i think it's ballet. i think i want to learn how to dance ballet.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

we all start small


feet curled on wood, stymied
feet flat on the cool tiles resting
back straight and head loose at neck
shoulders eased
eyes released
text is easier to manipulate when it exists
it exists as a sign of my folly
the beasts dehors are braying
just kids, a busful of teens doing art and bagels
here is to be cloggy on the keys and empty in the head
to know that i don't do what i do, it does me, i'm a silent grave
scooters, vacation, fall

i don't reread

instead of deleting i publish post
i must focus on the positive
i must curtail my desires
this musty must word must be banished
if at my own terms the word repeats and i swindle co-appetite thus far wind
automatic super stun burst word one away from belching forth
the inability to type on this thing
the want of keys wider spaced so surfing starts
a poor workman blames his tools
this paralysis that sets in over long term that maybe saps the will

evidence of vampirism

blaming myself for being too weak to resist the pull of appetite

traitor weed

Thursday, May 19, 2011

squeezelle and the rod

blanchard doll stick fury

rim-tone essence frip

click the jar far spastic

mingle tight the show way

glide ranch pony sauce delightful

volt begonia peer assessment

warble truce and pygmy statutes

fringe a zillion post mosquitoes

skill a tweezer deluxe model

bargain chew through denver airway

click a saddle stitch merchant sing

door door fruit juice cup string deer song ring

eat the empty bowels down

howl for sailors windows

beat the wrong dismissal

hang a rayon curtain

sting a turtle island

heave a moment








tweetin' on da blog

this way there is no censorship or even editorial trysts. sheer go ahead and damn perception
my phantom readership demands more serious efforts. they demand i give it a shot once a week to say the least and not just pithy quotes but ramble.
and not just ramble stoned and queer but digs and jeer and tried true sentence structure.

i'll lift and lilt and spill some beer and cross the words out as they tumble

month long no goes ain't where it's at

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

In our clinic,
the replication of human animals and demons,
DNA replication is the ability to use
our potential alien
I use this site to construct a poem
this place with its accidents and happy mistakes
I'm grateful to find their own words
I join the line waiting to digress

Elementals watch our every move

The Earth is hollow and full of dreams
Fall River is not my intended mythology
Fireplace ash shovel, the effort to ban
Winds from these directions are exiled

Please cancel the devil to buy a house of stone.
Tree trunks carved in the likeness of a friend
Central fountain spring quarter Form
Rising smoke from air of buildings and land

Sunday, April 10, 2011

beginning to see the cresting earth despoil the fear of other

Please refer to the beginning
to the other decorations
we too can become enormous statues with respect to
unification and the need to secure our straps

Looking round, I went into the pond together.

this is a down cast eye, the one that smarts in sing song
this is the first song of an understated wit

my word crawls through the narrow space looking for a margin
my words, please look under the floor

we are incredible space men with valour and truncated thoughts
we the people of the universe, we are very brave
You have been praising up the Third, and I had fallen into my trousers with some individual.
Upon which was no discovery that had been all the world, except that I had an interval of fire.

The Author of the Goddess

* We We a great jaws, let him be a race in diameter.
* We base welcome to drink in the earth to please.
* But teeming leaven hatred, and here and that mass of CUSHIONED COUCH.
* But, but unless Eros advantage of life and the need of Diet and Orcs.
* Until he is some love from the lakes, but a soft bed.
* The author of the goddess, the Welcome to Thinking.
* The time when the masters of hatred not and attendants.
* That I may to lay Magazines and newspapers unless a quiver.
* To suspend but he is love itself according to reason.
* A person is also a pure We, but that a certain pain. Who is the author of More?
* But some arrows to the just, the gate of a soft venomous life.
* Or in diameter with child, in the base and the sapient, the time of various fears.
* Need of wise this torturer, and easy to drink in need.
* To suspend not the couch, and he was to please more.
* Product as a lion or any means a lion.
* Community Client here.
* Until the end of fear that the attendants deal with.
* Welcome to Thinking.
* There is no elite
* Read the Full when prefix meaning half and at the earth.
* Diseases, the nil to the carriages or to drink in a bed, if not time.
* We , we attendants deal with the time of clean modern life.
* These jaws to the just, to please any man.
* The earth will be cured
* But in a wise man.
* For The earth is at need.
* To suspend attendants deal with schools.

We adorn a soft congruent. There is no.
That laughter of beating. Content goes here to raise up.
In Thinking of arrows, for filthy My Photos in diameter, is the fear and need of the time of this.
We lump also: and that is always her porch of a man the pit.
the time of the element.
live a bed, some of life but the porch, the element of Sample.
to extreme poverty.
Neither the nib nor undertakes, also the augur is the mass of crime, and be, my orcs but unseemly.
Be healed:
a soft eros blandishments of life that concept of mourning.
the price of fear fun on the advantage. Top crime there was a time carriages.
The Moors
laughter of annoyance.
Write is now, and please go a lion Customer.

dropping the writ

word down
row now
w or own

double dee dice games twice

collection of shambles

look at this, it's broken i know and the paint...well, maybe i should repaint it, i like when that colour goo fills in the cracks and makes it smooth. plywood letter forms, screw holes, splinter sticks, one-side, hanging on the wall, leaning from the shelf, gathering power.
i have an R and an old E. i find them but i can make them if i gave myself the day, i could have a word or two nicely down, 4 letters worth for fun. to show or hang or sell or cast out of doors.
to tie into fences and art works.
at arms !
gather the precious few scraps to work with and away, snip the scissors and spread the glue, turn the page and start anew, never fear and always true, here's the art that comes from you.

sweat not, try little, gash move slash
tear rip paste poo! high job lost.
one kinetic temple of the light converging
no two ways about it

spin cycle up town dust gather storm knot up down


----- --

frying abate style liars
gate crashing mud friars


stop jungle max triple treat beef crown rot
flip dimple stiff prod heart scoop trot
mix crinkle Steve stop jeep lot
my twinkle TV tube tied top

stipple due cream cry Chris eye stop
mix tape snap pop pry stat pause
click camera film torn grease high mop
dig do dog bog midge map flop






Tuesday, April 5, 2011

light witch
type witch
laser witch
hype witch

my other poetry is a bumpersticker

my other poetry is a bumpersticker

can / should / busy

no seriously
we can awaken our species
reconnect with the totality of life
tune into the planet
spread the word we can.

sigh we're all one thing breathing light asleep and dumb cells leading

fragments follow

nose to tail
entire rings of beast


the order in which to read
the list of illustrations
the chart of reveries


to break the backs of children
how much empire do you need ?


how much warehouse for your greed ?
this is a train of dinosaurs
each the next in line reaches for
reclining spines and ready the dying
oil and pills and war machines the theme
of the evening

we sit and sweat and wait the heft
and will the chills of evil
we eat the muck and drink the suck and fatten limbs with bacon
true dat dat
those are the hardest things to find i find
i just bought a few things for myself seriously
recently i mean
that's what a lot of people buy it's true

the little things in life

seriously all around us, the shelter, the clean water, fresh food, friendship.

let's form a band and make a tv show, let's broadcast our whatevers into the cosmos. let's write that novel and write it again ! let's get logos for everybody and sexy shoes, and all the right friends are the only friends we have and life is amazing with things to share at parties and work is fun and easy.
oh art.

here's a thing i want to show you

it's a thing i found one day, i forget exactly where or how. i mean when. how was i was walking down the street and i saw it. not too fancy. i took it of course. it's small and clean. it's made of wood with some pencil crayon on it and we talk about it. how much would you sell it for, do you like it ?
like that. we laugh and talk. like in the shop.
i wonder what will happen to it ! does it matter ? maybe not so much. it's a big world with lots of stuff, lots of junk too. it's kinda nice. not a miracle or anything, just a thing, a cool thing.
the little things in life.

to broadcast

this is tv now, this is tv. you are watching me on the televion. i am asking you questions about things. you answer. we talk and laugh. we show each other things. you show me things. i show you things. it's fun. lot's of people are watching. we're all talking together on the tv set.

Unity Consciousness

is it too much to ask that if enough of us willfully invited unity consciousness it would occur ?
isn't it time for an ascension of species, planet, dna, etc., ?
no ringleaders no credit takers no nothing
just phase shift into a bigger mind

us people scream our scream of fear and horror
as atcrocity upon catastrophe is heaped upon our heads
take our borders and our grudges and our fear of neighbours
take ancient hate forgotten feud beaten child abandoned elder
take glutton greed and want and breed a new world

you death dealers take your pie and island and leave the rest of us to farm and make sport
we'll still make shows and baubles for you
you thing buyer stop & choose wisely
breathe deeply and slow down
make light if you can make light
smile and take the arm of an other
i think we could think about our moment to awaken
i think we can actualize a group mind, a species wide connection to itself and the planet
the return of greed and competition to arenas not profit making
to the poetry of seventeen year olds
to the safety of children
to their right to grow unabused and allowed to play
to their destiny to forge a brighter world

man o man
please get it together
here we go, just do this

womens rights
childrens rights
animal rights
protection of green spaces
the redefinition of value away from material power
the respect of the human arts
addressing the needs of those differently minded
schools, gardens, sanctuaries, museums, galleries, theatres, arenas, parks.

that we think we need what we do in the saturated west is the first thing to consider
that we disengage with media drama is the second
to stop and breathe
to make art
to write this down while i can

It's a New Form - Lyrics

it's a hairstyle that's never been seen
it's a band you can't make-up in a dream
it's a throttle of gears and machines
it's a wicked display of our genes

it's a new form
it's a new form
it's a new form
it's a new form

it's a language that you could see
it's a massage with unlimited creams
it's a planet supported by beams
it's a laugh instead of a scream


all lyrics written by billy mavreas
free to use. please credit author.

it's a unity consciousness

what's your poetry ?

my poetry is short and cunning

i understand the art of it but ceaseless transmission in every direction is a bit much

i understand the art of it but ceaseless transmission in every direction is a bit much
that it can spider out of any each of us
in any pathway taken
branch it out and out
any paper can be used, any surface, any collection of anything, any unit, any point, any gesture, any idea or fraction of an idea
can be harnassed, focused upon and with or without the will to change it
changes it.
A ceramic plate of the Mycenaean era, which was found during excavations last summer in Iklaina Messinia, is that it has the oldest Greek-and thus European-style. The plate, which brought to light in a grove archaeologist Michael Kosmopoulos professor at the University of Saint Louis, Missouri, is actually a fragment, measuring approximately 2.5 cm height and 4 cm wide.

The important thing, however, is the dating, which is placed between 1450 and 1450 BC That is much earlier than other known signs. The script which is written in small text that is saved is the Linear B and contains from one side to form the verb associated with the construction and the other names and numbers, you probably correspond to a property list.

Linear B, the first writing of Greek, have come to light at Mycenae, Pylos, Thebes and other great Mycenaean centers, but their dating is later. According to Mr. Kosmopoulos, this changes the sign to date knowledge on the use of Linear B, but possibly also for the spread of writing.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

title as work

that's it i think

trouble the ego finds right next door
nothing at all to whats at home, steer me
the body i live in with
the body attached to blinking me
the body soft shield shaken
quickly graven
into frostbite

that body very same
that body weak they say
oh it's a shame they're right as always

fragrant tussles

to date
nothing but empty talk
swollen parts, rubbed raw and stupid
heres the cow to eat
heres the sugar problem
have another drink


to begin with
instrumental radio
itching elbows
dream cake
to begin with phantom operas
and sheisser house

continual parade
low flying into castles
nursery wines

tumble vines elaborate
the species
as far as i can tell
radio voices for supper

the change of channel sparks revolution as we abide, to imagine that with one quick thought a thousand gestures can be slain.

the irrelevancy of format
a dim student fresh to grasp
clapping for the passé lark
equipped for boring parties
an album cover shirt
index cards
drooling into textbooks

don't even think about it, tidy it to working
remedy the brevity with windy puttered gasp

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

teen bard recollections

early it was scads of lavender or proggy solos memorized
anthems of puppy love beseeched in fm agony
then urban glammy rock tableau tracing lines to words across the pages
water coloured
mostly though slogans and jottings and rhymes on folded wads in jacket pockets
bus stop waiting band names perfect tag


i disavow the shame. i admit my secret spoken word fantasia.
let me claw your ears out with my pointed turn of phrase
my lilting jawline journal spree galore
repeat after me
i let me
i let me eat the chips a whole bag through
i let me stay up late and fart with homemade cake and scrape the bowl
a few times to make up these rhymes that heaven bid adieu

season word

i see hounds sitting nearby waiting
black noses jutting from shadows at my elbow

cats fleeting against walls side to side eyes
mice dancing in a basket of lines


dying to compose
shards of plastic diss paper
basket waste high


dog still there eyes puffed with staring straight down some just-now-oncoming treat
heat rising from his coat the cats are dancing lights the mice have gone to dreary sleep


the idea of returning to poetry as an outlet rings gassy and obscene at times to me.
i stopped writing when in school someone who i showed my poems to said stick to drawing.
and i did.
but writing all along i guess, words bouncing on my tongue, rattling ears and reading signs.
that fellow postteen knew it all and to think the careless word of one twenty year old can skew the path of the nineteen, sad it is, and silly. that we the weight of others' imagined dreams should so stop us. but it does. or did.

anytime now we can swing around and seize that awful day or if that's too much we can wait it out, gnawing ourselves alone a grieving hermit, punching trees into tables and walls.
to think that writhing in our dust above a background yawning spiral would be chosen over striking out a new and living life!
we choose stasis, fattening the mind and not body moving, tapping out letters instead of dancing.
tenses abolished. i don't do tenses. moratorium on tenses.

monkey trials

i tend to write in small formats: bumper stickers, slogans, band names.

i can't do it longhand because then i'll never reread it, edit it or look at it again.

i need a screen and need to make it somewhat public, to be held accountable for it. to deal with it, to make it not suck too badly.

this is simply a beginning, an outing, a trial i hope to maintain, eveolve and eventually reveal as part of what i do.

the desire to work with text won't go away. i have embraced comics, poetry, visual poetry. now to face the demon of text.

a litter witch

i decided to call this blog project a litter witch because that's a term i came up with to describe one aspect of my spiritual practice, a practice that is rooted - how can a spiritual practice not be ? - in the material world.

i love finding things, i love scouring the sidewalks for ground scores, i love the surprise, the unexpectedness, the delight of seeing what is out-of-place. ooparts galore in the archeology of the streets. a dowsing, an oracular pulling.

it started long ago - maybe in grade 3 or 4 - i would do my hunting in a neglected part of the Morison Elementary School schoolyard, an unused parking lot in the north corner. i balanced on the narrow concrete curb looking into lot and grass on either side, finding bits of rusted metal, broken plastic arms of toys, washers and pennies.

i kept it up. as a teenager my friends would poke fun at my downward cast eyes, they would point out fire hydrants and bags of garbage, suggesting i may want to take those as well.
i kept the small treasures in the pockets of my jean jacket, one side for metal and natural substances (wood, shell, feather) the other side for plastic. i'd spill the contents onto café tables to amuse my pals.

often i would hang the round or holed objects from safety pins, dangling bits of metal from each other. when the clusters got too large i'd remove them from jacket or bookbag and fasten them to a contraption i made that hung in my room, chains festooned with pins, sunglasses, lost hardware, twisted wire, hoodie draw-strings.

a litter witch is a blog of words, the things i find most often.