User:Garykotz/sandbox

President, The Be-Coming of NewMedia Envisioning ArtForms for Be-Coming Ages

AWAKENING

I arose With the first streaks of dawn Trumpets resounded—From all the Churches Synagogues Mosques

Father—Came to awaken me Followed by a regiment of violinists Oh music—What a wonder

Ah—My awakening Which is celebrated—By That regiment of trumpeters Who came in the morning These instruments—That are of The Lord What great mornings What stupendous awakenings

Then—As if they were my teachers My-Divine-Naked-Mute-Gurus Came running to me—And All naked They taught to me Of philosophy

Then—Carrying only their little pink bath gear My-Divine-Naked-Mute-Gurus How they caressed My sacred body A holy purification

Invading all my necessary orifices Using their pink—Purifying impedimenta What a memory I have I remember it all as if it were—Yesterday

MAMA

But did I tell—To you That she sometimes beat me with a whip And—She took me by the hand When we went for walks

And—She took My pee-pee In her undulating hand And—Then the leaves So generous—Just so I could cleanse myself Of—My many sins

THE LIZARD

What a strange sight It looked as though vapors Were escaping from her shattered head—And I thought I saw a lizard Crawl out of the wound The lizard got on the table At which I performed my exalted carvings The lizard Was facing me—And—Stared fixedly His goitered throat Moved Up and down

I—Examining him more closely Could see his face was my face Then when I tried to catch him He disappeared—Into the wind As if—He were only phantom Then—I don't know why I had this great longing to weep

I feel unhappy

I kissed MAMA—On the lips My hands—And—My Lips Got all bloody—I called in vain She did not answer And I felt even sadder Even more like crying

Darling EMET it is—Forever I Your son I did not mean to hurt you It was a mistake What is the matter? Why not do you move? My—How you bleed

SOUL MATE

You Know I nearly took a soul mate How dashing—I would have been Me—With a soul mate She was One—Very pretty Two—Very beautiful Three—Very blond With fearless steel black eyes

We were undefinable We were acting in all integrity And—Were just becoming

We met in the park And we talked for a very—Very long time And—We agreed to meet In the park—That very next day

I spent the night drawing a heart With an arrow For her—A large heart Like those—of the ferries In my Dionysian festivals For the color red I used my own blood I pricked my finger—Very deeply OUCH!!—How it hurt

She was One—Very pretty Two—Very beautiful Three—Very Blond And—Quite shocking black eyes

When I looked at her—Oh Oh Scales seemed to be growing all over her body And—I felt like I was a big fish Gliding between her legs

Well—I did pretty well With the heart Perhaps it was a little round And—I drew an arrow And—I wrote my name While I was drawing—I thought I was flying in the air with her And we lost each other—In the sky And her body was nothing But legs—And—Lips forever

Believe me—It was very nice The Heart The arrow The drops of blood It was a symbol A gesture — The annoying thing—Is That later the blood turned to black

But—She was One—Very pretty Two—Very beautiful Three—Very Blond And —Those astonishing black eyes

We talked for at least a half an hour In the park Banalities—You could say About—The weather She asked me where Such—And—Such A street was But she was very well aware That—Behind those words We really spoke of our love

She loved me without a doubt When she said—To me It is not as cold as last year I knew—That in fact Her veiled desire Would have sounded more like—We Will leave with each other—And We will eat sea urchins together

I answered her with—You are Like the seagulls of the world At the hour of the siesta You sleep on me Like a bird entering its cage I feel your heartbeat And —The rhythm of your respiration In all The pores of my skin From my heart—Spurts a jet Of crystalline water With—Which to bathe your virgin white feet

That is why I spent the night creating That heart Only for her And—Since I did not know her name I was inspired to name her—EMET

What—A day I lived through Just thinking of her—EMET I asked myself should I tell MAMA?

When I got to the park Well she—She must have—Made a mistake She must not have understood For an entire week—I went to the park For five hours each evening She must have been run over by a car Or—Something

It could not be something else On the fifth night—At the ordained time Given to me by my Soul Mate I was visited Though it was EMET—MAMA Who showed up At the spot I last saw my soulmate