grey days, forever days

Greyness covers every page
Of a heart
Splattered with black and white ink
A dedication
to black and white
now
to the script of my mourning
and you, I hope,
my eventual destiny.
Now its for making the thing liveable
do-able
under a grey sky
far-far away from home
Untangle the body and live in simplicity
or, some sort
for
the diving day will come
and you will be
truly prepared

you should hope my dear
that the thing you love
should stay alive
or else, you would regret this patience.
Living now on a land run by system
working
stand up and ride the tube land
arrive at destination safely land,
know where your going
and what time your coming home
land
Well
I only have one home now
so
my desexualised body will walk this strange place
and stop, and ponder
the things around
its environmens
its paths

Deep down in its depth though
it will long,
and her real existence will be laying on daggers.
On the surface, dull days and bright days will make grey years
And I shall wait and wait and wait and wait
I should tell you, I'll be waiting in a coma til you come to get me
And then my real life shall begin again
And I shall roam my love, with you, forever.

That's where I belong

"I am only interested in my eyes when they're looking at you."

Parturition, Mina Loy

I am the centre
Of a circle of pain
Exceeding its boundaries in every direction

The business of the bland sun
Has no affair with me
In my congested cosmos of agony
On infinitely prolonged nerve-vibrations
Or in contradiction
To the pin-point nucleus being

Locate an irritation               without
It is                                       within
                                             Within
It is without
The sensitized area
Is identical               with the extensity
Of intension

I am the false quantity
In the harmony of physiological potentiality
To which
Gaining self-control
I should be consonant
In time

Pain is no stronger than the resisting force
Pain calls up in me
The struggle is equal

Isadora Duncan and Sergei Esenin both possess a "superhuman" quality. They rapidly became legendary characters in their own right, defied by some and reviled by others. Their lives may appear enviably heroic or painfully absurd; their complex personal relationship seems to combine elements of epic and tragic.

D O you think I'll dO Okay BABY.
D O you think I'll dO OKAY?

The Socialist

You give your 'love yous' out 
and pour them like potpourri
over the likes of every thorn you ever met
nestle heads and wishes and dreams of exotic days ahead
amoungst the swept up dried up, cuttled, salted heads
and take your florist apron around the town 
and fill it up with bitty pieces and crumpled ends
and by the part of day you may or may not be, 
delighted by your new friends
and harass the dogs and bleach the sacks
be about, you one and only fly
and make a map, of your truce
with whoever it was that put you here
and starved you with your own concoctions
and bled you from your own devotion
to the fleet of bodies all mixed up together
lost in an orgy of 'never coming to get mes'
the muted version of a tale long lost
and a meal long wasted
on a man who won't discriminate
but who too can't distinguish the flavours

BIG LOA CANNOT RIDE little horses

We wear sweaters, together, we wear sweaters. 
We are casual, manifestations of black rimmed plainness, and we love it. We love eachothers faces. Forces, to reckon with. 
And boyish and golden, lets set up base.
A home, a house, without any furniture.
Holding hands, without a care, light as the air.
And sweaters, black sweaters, to move around the town.

Dungarees dungarees,
Dungarees as you please
If you'll be wanting plaited sheath
I'll be wearing dungarees, dungarees

Oh Mina Loy, F word Manifesto

Mina Loy, Feminist Manifesto

Women if you want to realize yourselves-you are on the eve of a devastating psychological upheaval-all your pet illusions must be unmasked—the lies of centuries have got to go—are you prepared for the Wrench–? There is no half-measure—NO scratching on the surface of the rubbish heap of tradition, will bring about Reform, the only method is Absolute Demolition

Cease to place your confidence in economic legislation, vise-crusades & uniform education-you are glossing over Reality.

Professional & commercial careers are opening up for you—
Is that all you want?

And if you honestly desire to find your level without prejudice—be Brave & deny at the outset—that pathetic clap-trap war cry Woman is the equal of man-
For
She is NOT

The man who lives a life in which his activities conform to a social code which is protectorate of the feminine element—–is no longer masculine

The women who adapt themselves to a theoretical valuation of their sex as a relative impersonality, are not yet Feminine

Leave off looking to men to find out what you are not —–seek within yourselves to find out what you are

As conditions are at present constituted—you have the choice between Parasitism, & Prostitution —-or Negation

Men & women are enemies, with the enmity of the exploited for the parasite, the parasite for the exploited—at present they re at the mercy of the advantage that each can take the others sexual dependence—-. The only point at which the interests of the sexes merge—is the sexual embrace.

The first illusion it is to your interest to demolish of women into two classes the mistress, & the mother every well-balanced & developed woman knows that is not true. Nature has endowed the complete functions—-there are no restrictions on the woman who is so incompletely evolved as to be un-self-conscious in sex, will prove a restrictive influence on the temperamental expansion of the next generation; the woman who is a poor mistress will be an incompetent mother—an inferior mentality—& will enjoy an inadequate apprehension of Life.

To obtain results you must make sacrifices & the first and greatest sacrifice you have to make is of your ”virtue”

The fictitious value of a woman as identified with her physical purity—is too easy to stand-by—rendering her lethargic in the acquisition of intrinsic merits of character by which she could obtain a concrete value—-therefore, the fist self-enforced law for the female sex, as a protection of the man made bogey of virtue—which is the principal instrument of her subjection, would be the unconditional surgical destruction of virginity through-out the female population at puberty—-.

The value of man is assessed entirely according to his use or interest to the community, the value of woman depends entirely on chance, her success or in success in maneuvering a man into taking the life-long responsibility of her—

The advantages of marriage are too ridiculously ample—
Compared to all other trades—for under modern conditions a woman can accept preposterously luxurious support from a man (with-out the return of an sort—even offspring)—as a thank offering for her virginity.

The woman who has not succeeded in striking that advantageous bargin—-is prohibited from any but surreptitious re-action to Life-stimuli—-&entirely debarred maternity.
Every woman has a right to maternity—-

Every woman of superior intelligence should realize her race-responsibility, in producing children in adequate proportion to the unfit or degenerate members of her sex—-

Each child of a superior woman should be the result f a definite period of psychic development in her life—-& and not necessarily of a possible irksome & outworn continuance of an alliance—spontaneously adapted for vital creation n the beginning but not necessarily harmoniously balanced as evolution.

For the harmony of race, each individual should be the expression of an easy & ample interpenetration of th male & female temperaments—free of stress
Woman must become more responsible for the child than man—-
Woman must destroy in themselves, the desire to be loved—

The feeling that it is a personal insult when a man transfers his attention from her to another woman

The desire for comfortable protection instead of an intelligent curiosity & courage in meeting & resisting the pressure of life sex or so called love must be reduced to its initial element, honour, grief, sentimentality, pride and & consequently jealousy must be detached from it.
Woman for her happiness must retain her deceptive fragility of appearance, combined with indomitable will, irreducible courage, & abundant health the outcome of sound nerves—
Another great illusion is that woman must use all her introspective and clear-sightedness & unbiased bravery to destroy—for the sake of her self respect is the impurity of sex the realization in defiance of superstition that there is nothing impure in sex—except in the mental attitude to it—will constitute an incalculable & wider social regeneration than it is possible for our generation to imagine.

I'll make it, I'll make it back alright.
My limbs aren't lank but they seem to be failing me now.
Thighs that were made for bolting,
Columns full of thunder and might.
But, I'm gathering food from this fight
Enough to pressurise the flight

Food for thought

Your voice girl, is like a body

Dancing, dissolving worries, erasing sorrow,

And your body, my pretty one, is like words,

Words of philosophers who got drunk and forgot time.

How strange!

S O S

Lunar Baedeker

A silver Lucifer

serves
cocaine in cornucopia

To some somnambulists
of adolescent thighs
draped
in satirical draperies

Peris in livery
prepare
Lethe
for posthumous parvenues

Delirious Avenues
lit
with the chandelier souls
of infusoria
from Pharoah's tombstones

lead
to mercurial doomsdays
Odious oasis
in furrowed phosphorous---

the eye-white sky-light
white-light district
of lunar lusts

---Stellectric signs
"Wing shows on Starway"
"Zodiac carrousel"

Cyclones
of ecstatic dust
and ashes whirl
crusaders
from hallucinatory citadels
of shattered glass
into evacuate craters

A flock of dreams
browse on Necropolis

From the shores
of oval oceans
in the oxidized Orient
Onyx-eyed Odalisques
and ornithologists
observe
the flight
of Eros obsolete

And "Immortality"
mildews...
in the museums of the moon

"Nocturnal cyclops"
"Crystal concubine"
-------
Pocked with personification
the fossil virgin of the skies
waxes and wanes---- 

Mina Loy

Mr Rochester.
& the Forgotten Prince

You know that cliche scene where she run run runs, straight into his arms?
Like he was the only man who ever lived and she was the most beautiful woman in the world?

the forgotten prince

"While lying next to you I was thinking how I should've responded earlier. I recalled what you brought out in me last summer and the refuge you provided. I can't answer whether or not there's a 'person' inside but I can say with certainty there is some light in you drawing in all us lowly moths..."

Nourbo

Saubode

abode

Noleebode

bambode