A Night With Yoric by Klaus J. Gerken (2011) II_4 Bloodletting (1972) by Klaus J. Gerken the lay offerings Part II 22 sunday (edronken) poem two this is sunday poem 2 too also i know that it will not be the poem of the cen tury unless the century that vanishes is the same material possession that i make of love that is life thru deprivation i my path thru righteousness with calloused hands i have spoken love thru generations of the faith i have that woman offers me now to resume there is living feeling that is feeling getting nervous energy fuck her fuck her never artaud knew the difficulty in being god marion again to you as worse is verse that worse may be (is six thousand lines enough for you? i don't mean no i don't mean what i mean so never mind that i am in love with her who offers me her cunt but can't take the cunt that she will offer me for fear of being bound situation difficult poems never vanish beyond the doing force of having done which in turn brain is not the path unless you lose identity in cosmic realm that already drives me mad insane (she held my ball melting between her iron grip (the girl is beautiful i've seen her once before nude and full of tears when love was shattered she was flown as fawn as birth (three months pregnant and the pendant of the revolution is gaining babies instead of armour armor? save the flag that is my land the flag that is the state in which i was born / crowned a god in hitler's youth i wanted to become a god but instead became a poet that was nothing more than dreamed and having one girl at my side in whom my love cd always manifest itself and giving up the loneliness of words that cannot flow what? they asked what? pronounce that word again but time had flowed too far along to recall the word and always that was come was 'never mind' never mind forget the word the motion's done i am done (i used to love a woman once altho in reality she was no more than a girl 18 years years old no more and that i had fallen in love with her as lovers fall in love that heather said "yes i saw you with her once - you were on top of her" and right that day that sunny day when the cliff was there before me that i thought of jumping but cd never do because i wanted to be around to see what wd happen so i dream i dream of better days i dream of simpler days of days when i can be a recluse that i am a woman and a child to carry on the work that has begun the structure of a thought (and i will be the innovator the one who substitutes the mind of force that fabulous that which it is is only to get rid of words that mean nothing at all the words (communication that our while society is based on lilly said that communication is our greatest asset but when it fails our greatest enemy and that i do believe and that i do believe otherwise what wd we really have if words did not tell others of our plans wd we not be just the animals that we should in the first place be? certainly they say it was the hand that made us build and perhaps it was but even as the ape (who has also hands the mind must be powerful enough to be able to control the intricacies that the hand will build and even tho we've built a fabulous system for being bored we've proved most useless in controlling it (a pause here so such i can get a drink so now the way is lazy that we are and still do we complain that the things we do are hard never never are they hard listen they were a nervous disease that we are calling hard that we are blaming on the mechanical appliances that we have made in our false nemesis i'd rather be an ape than be the person that i am produced in artificiality by this ridiculous society is it only fourteen hours and that i shd be getting lost already for the words and subjects that i need ? never god gives me strength to offer words in sacrifice and fill this page with reckless rubbish that is all our lives i've controlled the laser boom or been in which the radio had not been sprung (beautiful and beautiful and ever more beautiful as nature wd have itself be. you see how simple it is the shit upon the work or other men who've built the world to fill the need for 'poetry'? yup easy and more easy every day i've finally gotten hold of myself and that is found the ideas that spring up from now and then robinson jeffers betrayed himself by being logical logic is a human trait he called for its destruction i call for no such thing (it is far too late to remedy the situation let it be i only want to be alone to write a million lines like this somewhere on a tropical island with my wife and children and they and we will from that day on become the adam and the even and breed our own society such that by the time i die there will be at least be six or seven others in the family and getting stronger all the time i'll write the precepts and the laws to how things should be run and tell to drive out all the invaders from across the waves who certainly will come when things are good and then and then i'm sure no one will get the island or if the do it will prove whatever my writings show man is artificial in his means that man is not an animal wd never think to invade others' territory (24 oloo i've just found the element of time is most important now again that i am writing fast not seeing any of the typewriter keys but only the vision of a found land that will be inhabited by nature's reasoning and not the stupid reasoning of mankind i will have no cities i will only have the covers that are needed to keep well beneath the hurricane i will take no food unless it will sustain me in my need one fish per meal that is enough and not for trading nothing for to be the currency that modern times are too much based on and never more will i want to see a television or a radio i'm getting sick and tired of being informed of others on the set that are dead or dying by god lets eat the bodies a nd not waste the space (i've heard that human flesh is quite a delicacy something in-between chicken and pig but who cares who cares a damn about the world to go with me whylie-ann perhaps perhaps but where is she now i do not know i do not know i wanted so much (and still i do to go with her to the amazon if only i cd sell my land if only i cd leave the family that binds by love and hate by the ambivalent caricatures that nature left in us to formulate the nature of the world thus i am one different from the rest thus i stand alone or have as of not yet found the woman that will mate with me or to invite the presence of my isolation from the goal that it communication even now at present now i do not want to be alone but i find i am alone with nothing but some german singer singing songs over the tape recorder (and of tape recorders now or even the causing of the thing the mirror that tends to show the formulation of our outer feature which in nature's plan all have a purpose only to attract those that nature wants to give my face as soon as i saw the image that the mirror brought i did not like but that is not important save to what it does to your mind once the thought once the psychosis is become and so forget the image that the mirror brings it does not matter anyway (to want to be prettied up just for ones' self is placid and stupid it does only harm to what happiness might lie in drawing love that nature means to be drawn to them so whatever matters matters not unless it matters true (making not much sense am i but you'll see you'll see that everything will fall into line into the general shape of time (this will never be read or published it's never what they want to hear or see so let's just say that it's my personal commitment the tumbling of society you see that we have a governing body to make things happen (to make history another of man's inventions (but a pretty good one have to give some credit for that at least but very little else . . . (hm got to conserve the wine got to have some left for later shd have leapt it for today instead of finishing / consuming two bottles yesterday having only this one left which only now has half a glass left for me and then i'll have to taste the bottle which tasted rather stale after a whole morning/afternoon of wine and which besides gets me rather sick is i go into it too much and mix the two so there you have my thesis on the world and beer and wine and things i like to do when i get myself away away away (hey i kinda like the way that word types out away away awayawayawayaway a and a w and a a and a y which all spells away away away away away and sometimes missing g and the y and going for the t which is no good which makest me very glad in my schizophrenia and talking about schitz we must never forget artaud who said shit to the body and then decided shit to literature and shit to the spirit and that all writing is pigshit and so it is and so it is hip hip hooray which means a difficult joycean think taken indirectly from "punnigan's wake" which nabokov coined in one of his immortal innocent literary fabrications as interview great isn't it? that someone decides to write out an interview instead of giving one to make sure the world doesn't get a laugh by misunderstanding i say shit to their world shit to understanding i say shit to everything human i say shitshit shit to everything artificial and everything that is except the natural which contrary to what blake and john clare say is still there to be very beautiful and flourishing even without mankind to analyze it telling us which part is which and which we shd or shd not admire for some scientist says that he prefers this to that see what i mean everything is very much insane everything has gotten out of control for after all man wasn't here for four billion years and now wants to already take over the whole thing god created god if i were you i'd send down a couple of thunderbolts and rid the place of rodents like the people that have made it what they want to make it now what they think it should be (just counted the pages which say this is to be the sixteenth which i deem of the only importance that there is let's see that gives me about 800 lines which is still is well growing yet if anyone cd constrict it to be more memorizing in the way to be not less that what is is see i'm still being silly but the silliness is part of it it will teach us more to laugh and much more to forget remembering only that the cycle of our lives is done so fast that everything we do is hardly important as the purpose that we serve i remember gulls circling the sky above the fishing boats when they came in loaded with the catch of the century i don't agree at all let them who lives there near the sea eat fish and then further inland whatever will be there it being the only logical answer to the natural cycle that encloses us (to find some things to do i put upon this page my write to bring to show that i myself was the author of this piece of psychological junk ? junk which is what this whole earth has now become anyway so why shd we the people be any different in what we discard as wasted (the world's too cluttered up anyway something's got to give anything (it is five minutes before 3 15 hours shit whatever will be must be i just lost my place of reference by listening to a song good sung too better than most of artificial junk come out now h w hyjo jhi djgytwnfgy hgy wgdtftylk;su ji don't matter really matter none at all what i do marion i love you you come let's fuck again i love you i love you like the river floods the sky with sun and sun is beautiful as you are beautiful full full love eyes so dark and delvic let me enter you again my wife let me come and let's be one (as you and me and everyone (i'm running out of wine i'm takin time off to listen to sum opera norma and la boheme and love the arias and love the music sad as it is to remember you who made me quest for life who made me wunderstand that living is not living for oneself but for the ones one loves to understand giving to understand to love sunday 19 march 1972 13 - 1532 hours est 23 and jesus never died for us for us who have brought the gift of martyrdom to him for us who have worshipped the incarnation of a GOD for us who have mourned the sacrifice of meeting life with segregation thru the principles of forgiveness (like who warmed the words at heart (the saviour HE the christ (time is relevant (the decay of words by word of mouth (homer who was he? and jesus how was he? who was the true christ iakannaan ? jesus ? they only called him teacher for he taught the words that rang *the new truth* and what was *the new truth* forgiveness ? forgiveness of yourself by the kingdom of god (god forgives those who may forgive him ?) separate entities the voice of the lord did not inspire the bible (the book) only islam (mohammed he stated that the angels of the lord had brought the words themselves (and who can thus be sure the desert does mean things to a man the desert is a test of strength the desert heat brings mirages brings the heated need for god thru deprivation of the giving force of life (and even as i fight to find the strength of words the offer not anything but the offering herein of life inverted thu the process of the finding of a truth within the self (and men such as HE Iakonaan maker of the prophet on the cross Iakonaan maker of the work the violent water word inspiring awe in the one who offered such that others might be taken in by churches and false popes who deign to free the throne of Peter by the robbing of the coffers of the poor Jesus never offered anything to anyone (he offered bread and water at the feast he offered from the mouth of god he offered miracles (what the egyptians already knew (24 march 1972 24 the cross made for the humility of man (one man) not man's suffering - let me explain last night i got good and drunk and carved a cross into my flesh this morning the blood still stains my shirt - and that there is pain and a general feeling of ill cannot be denied (feel like one who's been POISONED - and in a sense ( i begin to sweat) * i do not understand half of this it is different (almost sexual the pain cold/and burning dagger on my flesh / she bites she bites and solitude that lies in suffering i have no rusted nail marks on my palms and on my feet nor a spear- thrust wound upon my side (dagger burned my virgin flesh and tolerate infinity thru matters much abhorred by suffering by suffering (burning daggers burning eyes ( i don't know why i did it that is just the point i lie awake at night thinking about the cosmic mind lends itself to god and this timelessness evolved is a single moment of eternity (orgasm is a type of timelessness where life finally ceases for the passing of the sperm from man to woman (from god to mary ? heaven /unto/ earth * it is all so difficult to explain - i fever discordantly thru the mode of pleasure/pain thru the profound divisions of the never fathomable mind thru intensity of love - love thru passion (a child is born (something beautiful thru a moment of terror - the woman said explaining sole act of creation * i understood i said - but really i am a man - how can i be able to say understood? perhaps the burning of the flesh perhaps the dagger parting skin (it splits apart man enters woman /sperm enters womb woman enters man? ((divine is innocence? perhaps the quarrel parting lovers ? * perhaps that everything is so involved that everything is so intertwined thru nature's cruelty (that path that breeds survival 28 march 1972 25 to begin the journey outward - landscape tones : just as often as the brew is spilled over like the tears that tear a lover's heart dull gray day rainwater painting mosaics on the pavement we with gasoline and melted snow on the radio : on the poisoning of lungs and smoking cigarettes (and that i shd just be doing that lightening a cigarette - thinking now about what Debbie said on the phone tonight "yr getting silly now" and so i was but to be quite honest about it i do not care to divulge the things i hate like working in my father's barber shop (but then what will it matter if i do? i am still alive as well as aught to be. cancel then regret and fear they produce the evil that is born into the murder of society (the murder of the christ - i am thinking of Debbie still and the times we used to have - i am thinking about Charlie and the child his woman is about to bear and Richard with his wife and son Kalif - and i am supplementing thoughts on the totality of freedom the being away from knowing/knowing not being lodged (wedged into reality without realizing the passing of a time . a time that i am much too conscious of a time that binds me to the 'fragmentation' of a thought (the process that is charted in this place (a breaking away now not to be here / as summer comes and with it sun and with it fertility of body/soul // been just to fill my glass with wine (( godly wine made by monks somewhere near Arles - The cross is always lodged like time upon my back the poetic myths of the period evolves me through the realm that is yet near as also far - so far from me that collapse is imminent / the moments so rehearsed the mood that is the conversation so evolved through verbal tradition of Homer's Odyssey a myth that is to feel the bloody birth of a soul incorporeal (for a man is flesh not spirit yet - and as a myth implies incorporeal that there is no flesh to persons such as these i am a myth i bleed the motion of i breed the motion i bleed and so the flesh that carves a cross into my flesh the flesh the pain of body/soul and to woman Your conversation eases me! come the dawn is near and the universe is distant yet as being near as god is being ambivalent as the final print that is the person that is i becomes himself But (literature is shit and so is this journal of non-events... (exit) 30 march 1972 26 (Coda) Something moves among the shadows of the thorns (something moves grotesquely in the desert sand something moves and like the scorpion it is the sweet weathered smell of death Horses become uneasy and their foaming nostrils flare up like the eyes of madmen come too soon seen too much And as this monstrous presence creeps upon us (like decay upon the mind (rotting timbers that we find... we find nothing left searching for a Gilead strike on (our destiny presages us our destiny engages us in battle and in peace in steadiness of foot in steadiness... we tarry on... arriving death wind anchors us... * and that we already are (the lost-dead we have found the lost-dead the ka (and we we who have have come this far... * something moves amongst the shadows that we are 2 May 1972 (Finis)