white turnip heads
in the floodwater—
the dead of winter
.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Monday, December 28, 2015
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
three and a half seconds of pure light (a poem for the Time Being)
unlike the whip-pan, which is used to rip the viewer
into a tangential reality, the dead-pan uses a melting rack-focus
to engage the death-posture of the character onscreen
—Madeleine Shine
1. (he sees himself laying onward
in the rain stone
after stone
into the mist towards a horizon
which will not be known
this the Zen-pan or stone-pan)
2. the boy the silhouette only of the boy
the long-dead seen from behind
hobbles along the alleyway
leaving his merest forensics barely
stroked into silver emulsion
3. another who reaches the vanishing point
who leaves nothing
—undiscoverable archaeology
of light
a creature of soft parts only
who dances but will not keep
who leaves no fossil for the reliquary
4. where at the table the hands work in shards
—of flint, itself fossil, compression,
the metamorphic dead—
knappings, rebuild in three dimensions
the stone jigsaws—each when finished
yet incomplete—brooding an inner hollow
where something was once eased forth
now only a void, a lost core felt
as disturbance
of the night air but nothing
when we stir
only nothing
lost there
in all our rolling fingers of dream
(2009)
(2009)
.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
le dormeur du val: an inflected cyborg translation of Rimbaud for Remembrance Sunday 2008
it is a hole of greenery where a river sings
hanging madly to grasses
................................tatters of money
......................where sun of the proud mountain shone
it is a small valley which foams of rays a young soldier
stops open, naked head, and the nape
bathes in cool blue cresses
....................sleep it is wide in grass, under the naked one
pale in its green bed where the light rains the feet
...................................in the gladeoli, it sleeps smiling
as would smile a sick child, it makes a nap Nature
.......................rocks it warmly: it is cold
the perfumes do not make any more shiver
..........................its nostril; It sleeps in the sun
.......................the hand on its tranquille chest
two red holes on the right
(Translated by Steve Parker 2008)
.
................................tatters of money
......................where sun of the proud mountain shone
it is a small valley which foams of rays a young soldier
stops open, naked head, and the nape
bathes in cool blue cresses
....................sleep it is wide in grass, under the naked one
pale in its green bed where the light rains the feet
...................................in the gladeoli, it sleeps smiling
as would smile a sick child, it makes a nap Nature
.......................rocks it warmly: it is cold
the perfumes do not make any more shiver
..........................its nostril; It sleeps in the sun
.......................the hand on its tranquille chest
two red holes on the right
(Translated by Steve Parker 2008)
.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Wednesday, December 09, 2015
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
payment protocol (lacuna)
make a hole in the self-text
into which (which?) fluid
a lake to fill the lack
which yourself luna-like
from below-above one
(second of the all-poem)—you
,you
.
into which (which?) fluid
a lake to fill the lack
which yourself luna-like
from below-above one
(second of the all-poem)—you
,you
.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
if so how (Cézanne of Green Fables) ]now you're for it/
Don't throw the dog—Tibetan Buddhist monk
from Drepung monastery (speaking to Tashi Tsering,
alleged four year-old reincarnation
of the deceased high lama, Khensur Rinpoche. 1991)
... rich oil and wine into the earth slap—Aeschylus
For the love of God, have pity on yourself—Bob Dylan
(in sacrifice: S-A-C-C-A-D-E—3: Callas the elf,
2: Cézanne the woodcutter ... 1:
)
(add fool to the fire) fairies parallel in the offing the day
the music died 23/10 the day on which
there are fairies/fairies in the offing look how
if ever so how then not so how the distance
closes in light in light's rush (inlight he names the third
brush with the law names he the second in outlight
fury of love, his father-(died harmony)-in the off and only—what
I want to use by you says (he) died of harmony only for it
—for it is a spirit smell not given—
eighty-four days in the outwrites all over
its assay on Cézanne, paracelebrant
and vocative I, O, think that—may have been the south pole
or dipole but this
............................in your face it is now at moments after
it (what) is spring either that May not floruits its rill-
-its koanica not its the first he names
(the conscience of the town ... the ditch of truth
—Victor Hugo)
and then he knew ...
......................that was [not] where he was going—
(Hemingway/Burroughs)
.
from Drepung monastery (speaking to Tashi Tsering,
alleged four year-old reincarnation
of the deceased high lama, Khensur Rinpoche. 1991)
... rich oil and wine into the earth slap—Aeschylus
For the love of God, have pity on yourself—Bob Dylan
(in sacrifice: S-A-C-C-A-D-E—3: Callas the elf,
2: Cézanne the woodcutter ... 1:
)
(add fool to the fire) fairies parallel in the offing the day
the music died 23/10 the day on which
there are fairies/fairies in the offing look how
if ever so how then not so how the distance
closes in light in light's rush (inlight he names the third
brush with the law names he the second in outlight
fury of love, his father-(died harmony)-in the off and only—what
I want to use by you says (he) died of harmony only for it
—for it is a spirit smell not given—
eighty-four days in the outwrites all over
its assay on Cézanne, paracelebrant
and vocative I, O, think that—may have been the south pole
or dipole but this
............................in your face it is now at moments after
it (what) is spring either that May not floruits its rill-
-its koanica not its the first he names
(the conscience of the town ... the ditch of truth
—Victor Hugo)
and then he knew ...
......................that was [not] where he was going—
(Hemingway/Burroughs)
.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
older by an idiot (Immaterial Culture) (unfinished otherwise overfinished)(high, heeled posture and bearing)
In September 2006, the U.S. government announced
it had moved Mohammed—Wikipedia
[seemingly its entire being in lordus though its vocal response so monomoraic as to appear pulse or spike of the silence which surrounded it than any genuine phonology merely a swell or gathering in of the tacit a rousing almost but not quite a wakening into true utterance]
—the second sunday in june 1144 the first dedication of the arch gothic—
(2015, 9/11: 111 people killed when a crawler crane collapses in Mecca during preparations for the Hajj
an inquiry is ordered, presumably into the mysteries of predestiny and the mind of Allah.urgent also numerology)
{In 1912 a group of women calling itself the Heterodoxy begins to convene a Feminist luncheon symposium (one supposes) this association for unorthodox women includes prominent lesbians and will meet regularly in Greenwich Village until the 1940s]
—oh this antipodean retroussé of the language oh it I will not have?¿albeits pointing up of the question innate to every word—'for'
(Every animal is sad after coitus except the human female and the rooster—Galen)
instance the Nazi side-co-opting of astika and nastika
(oh god I want to hide—my side issues—in the useful penumbra of yours ...)
(my side issues forth(in and of itself)In and Of
there are messages come through at long the needle
flickering (ectogasm)
forms around the mouth of the silent --------- between us now declared
older by an idiot
gentlemen, a mystery has been committed—The Goons
in bowls of unspoiled human juice
is that you whose presence so frightful
vague in the evenings in the autumn is that you (who does he mean-
spirited are they both and full of sire
who does he?
who does he imagine how that turns
her vocalization her rhotacism her R-marinaded vowels
revealing a febrile eek tenuous wheel upon the air as one
mid-splutter after a breathing (a wreathing) of smokewater
boarded 183 times (gave up not the goods)
put to T h e Q u e s t i o n
(snakes
,,,,,,,,,,,,,the
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,way
..........................and long)
.
it had moved Mohammed—Wikipedia
[seemingly its entire being in lordus though its vocal response so monomoraic as to appear pulse or spike of the silence which surrounded it than any genuine phonology merely a swell or gathering in of the tacit a rousing almost but not quite a wakening into true utterance]
—the second sunday in june 1144 the first dedication of the arch gothic—
(2015, 9/11: 111 people killed when a crawler crane collapses in Mecca during preparations for the Hajj
an inquiry is ordered, presumably into the mysteries of predestiny and the mind of Allah.urgent also numerology)
{In 1912 a group of women calling itself the Heterodoxy begins to convene a Feminist luncheon symposium (one supposes) this association for unorthodox women includes prominent lesbians and will meet regularly in Greenwich Village until the 1940s]
—oh this antipodean retroussé of the language oh it I will not have?¿albeits pointing up of the question innate to every word—'for'
(Every animal is sad after coitus except the human female and the rooster—Galen)
instance the Nazi side-co-opting of astika and nastika
(oh god I want to hide—my side issues—in the useful penumbra of yours ...)
(my side issues forth(in and of itself)In and Of
there are messages come through at long the needle
flickering (ectogasm)
forms around the mouth of the silent --------- between us now declared
older by an idiot
gentlemen, a mystery has been committed—The Goons
in bowls of unspoiled human juice
is that you whose presence so frightful
vague in the evenings in the autumn is that you (who does he mean-
spirited are they both and full of sire
who does he?
who does he imagine how that turns
her vocalization her rhotacism her R-marinaded vowels
revealing a febrile eek tenuous wheel upon the air as one
mid-splutter after a breathing (a wreathing) of smokewater
boarded 183 times (gave up not the goods)
put to T h e Q u e s t i o n
(snakes
,,,,,,,,,,,,,the
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,way
..........................and long)
.
Tuesday, October 06, 2015
Sunday, October 04, 2015
Saturday, October 03, 2015
Friday, October 02, 2015
/ˈmæs.ə.kə(ɹ)/ of the lullababy (work in digress)
this dyad is found deep—Wikipedia
so I says says I—Ireland
that even those who assert that everything
is predestined ... look both ways
before they cross the street—Stephen Hawking
from the pictures it looks
—animals in other language [a look of]
animate of dysnumber
dogs in/of the farflung
frequentative of barbarossa .......................babararian
such ack specialist ack Greek Heterodox ach diet so axo saxo
Fama romance-god of rumour thereby war and the war-floor
and of and unto and the saline
—with the SER and HIS residues required to form—
of the hedgegrows and hedgegogs then
are we—rossa.rosa.eschscholzia
rooted deep through viral floors
of Tom All Alone's
in its very rooking of us we stand parled (parled)
linebroken as dyads.]states the interstitiate]
also “the head of a newly killed stag”
the promiscuous slaughter of many who can
/ˈmæs.ə.kə(ɹ)/ O schwaaaaa
(obsolete) Murder—Gothic-vocative 𐌼𐌰𐌹𐍄𐌰𐌽
(the unidentified in all space exerted
by the unreadable cumulative
of the unbigenough for measure
-for)—mezhaphor-
-O lullababa no
.
so I says says I—Ireland
that even those who assert that everything
is predestined ... look both ways
before they cross the street—Stephen Hawking
from the pictures it looks
—animals in other language [a look of]
animate of dysnumber
dogs in/of the farflung
frequentative of barbarossa .......................babararian
such ack specialist ack Greek Heterodox ach diet so axo saxo
Fama romance-god of rumour thereby war and the war-floor
and of and unto and the saline
—with the SER and HIS residues required to form—
of the hedgegrows and hedgegogs then
are we—rossa.rosa.eschscholzia
rooted deep through viral floors
of Tom All Alone's
in its very rooking of us we stand parled (parled)
linebroken as dyads.]states the interstitiate]
also “the head of a newly killed stag”
the promiscuous slaughter of many who can
/ˈmæs.ə.kə(ɹ)/ O schwaaaaa
(obsolete) Murder—Gothic-vocative 𐌼𐌰𐌹𐍄𐌰𐌽
(the unidentified in all space exerted
by the unreadable cumulative
of the unbigenough for measure
-for)—mezhaphor-
-O lullababa no
what now do we not know
.....................................................................¿chiarascal?.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Virginia Woolf speaking of words ...
... feeling herself carried along in the swirl of many things
—Virginia Woolf: Night and Day, 1919.
A recording of Adeline Virginia sounding rather High Victorian unmodified by Modernism, and her word-thinking evidently in like stasis. One would like to have asked what of structures then? What of houses or churches? Why are they not all caves or at most fashioned of sticks and turves? How unprogressive these Blooms! But one may hear the deep discarnadining sadness in the sea-caverns of her voice, may sense the urge already to retreat therein: her soul pockets filled with ponderous words, with the multitudinous Cs to which her voice ever sinks ... Her love grown heavy now: only four more years of life to be endured...
The only known extant recording of Virginia Woolf, 1937.
.
—Virginia Woolf: Night and Day, 1919.
A recording of Adeline Virginia sounding rather High Victorian unmodified by Modernism, and her word-thinking evidently in like stasis. One would like to have asked what of structures then? What of houses or churches? Why are they not all caves or at most fashioned of sticks and turves? How unprogressive these Blooms! But one may hear the deep discarnadining sadness in the sea-caverns of her voice, may sense the urge already to retreat therein: her soul pockets filled with ponderous words, with the multitudinous Cs to which her voice ever sinks ... Her love grown heavy now: only four more years of life to be endured...
The only known extant recording of Virginia Woolf, 1937.
.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
full text of Pliny the Elder's natural history
~ et in arcadia ego -;*> ; >;.-^>^
le berger traces his own shadow in the script not that of his companion not that of his componionette frZSK** -#> o s*> :. this is not the birth of death or art
clambering hegemony !>"^ c'est l'occupante Poussin et il dit que l'autre vie est aussi l'Arcadie see XXXV 5, 15 "mais qui est elle?" La Justesse, pluk!
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
our savage gentle forthright astronomy (work in regress)
and the item is life whirling
and the auctioneer leans back
says this says this
will not be our future
no this will
expresses most clearly
as extended
that such a thing
metaphor
pataphor in unfact-
o look
an eye-blue tarquin takes off
all its sails set
still set upon this I cannot
[whats, though, whats?]
destination Mars,
a whole genre novel
with alacrity to be hedgehogged
of all its drear love
what he said
what the thunder said
the dunder [the caboche?]
don't play retroracist games for now
is the winter
rip't from the belly of christ's American
hegeMony Mony here she comes
then suddenly she doesn't come
at all
—and without a gasp
oh phrike and great snakes
the way and long
.
and the auctioneer leans back
says this says this
will not be our future
no this will
expresses most clearly
as extended
that such a thing
metaphor
pataphor in unfact-
o look
an eye-blue tarquin takes off
all its sails set
still set upon this I cannot
[whats, though, whats?]
destination Mars,
a whole genre novel
with alacrity to be hedgehogged
of all its drear love
what he said
what the thunder said
the dunder [the caboche?]
don't play retroracist games for now
is the winter
rip't from the belly of christ's American
hegeMony Mony here she comes
then suddenly she doesn't come
at all
—and without a gasp
oh phrike and great snakes
the way and long
.
End of Career
the cruellest thing
Tony Blair did
was not the Iraq War
it was buying Gordon Brown
an ice cream
in public
then watching
it kill him
.
Tony Blair did
was not the Iraq War
it was buying Gordon Brown
an ice cream
in public
then watching
it kill him
.
Monday, July 27, 2015
if you had it in your hands
if you had it in your hands
it would be all purple light
too many voices has the world
and rather too much fight
O I have been rejected
rejecting have I done
those silly distant struggles
have all been lost and won
but love's the real hearted thing
so always keep it near
and be as brave as possible
for all is fucked by fear
and if you had it in your hands
what difference there would be
we'd slide down flumes and ski down flanks
then crash into a tree
.
it would be all purple light
too many voices has the world
and rather too much fight
O I have been rejected
rejecting have I done
those silly distant struggles
have all been lost and won
but love's the real hearted thing
so always keep it near
and be as brave as possible
for all is fucked by fear
and if you had it in your hands
what difference there would be
we'd slide down flumes and ski down flanks
then crash into a tree
.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
of love and dark ways in fragment and phrase
this the cold air of a summer
in which of anyway there was no certainty
even afterwards long after
when he held his head in death
cradling those thoughts
as if they had happened then
as if that had been some point
of gnosis but no it cannot he will think back there
into the garden whose bench was now
or then a gap or space or absence
no he would think in those last times no
it could not be for imagine the unimaginable faery
transport of such a thing and who anyway
could sit upon it there in the air such
an air of hiatus or hubris or harking
anyway to the meek in rows for the showers
of midsummer with a dug-up of poppies
that were anyway fell anyway of light
and anyway of war and rivers undug and
now yes and yes and yes
to what motor or engine or brain
does one prostrate is all after and no
before so yes and come hither
for one has words painted there upon
the sky, look
for an instant
they hold
and all the world shudders
pricked as an anxious pet
but perceiving nothing yet
like so many whirled Buddhas
lapses or relapses or collapses
in all such ways: your absence
.
in which of anyway there was no certainty
even afterwards long after
when he held his head in death
cradling those thoughts
as if they had happened then
as if that had been some point
of gnosis but no it cannot he will think back there
into the garden whose bench was now
or then a gap or space or absence
no he would think in those last times no
it could not be for imagine the unimaginable faery
transport of such a thing and who anyway
could sit upon it there in the air such
an air of hiatus or hubris or harking
anyway to the meek in rows for the showers
of midsummer with a dug-up of poppies
that were anyway fell anyway of light
and anyway of war and rivers undug and
now yes and yes and yes
to what motor or engine or brain
does one prostrate is all after and no
before so yes and come hither
for one has words painted there upon
the sky, look
for an instant
they hold
and all the world shudders
pricked as an anxious pet
but perceiving nothing yet
like so many whirled Buddhas
lapses or relapses or collapses
in all such ways: your absence
.
upon the killing. turnips etc
silence in the lounge
where once as if
some explosion
everyone bated
look at their idiotic
think now, think hard
what comes next
.
where once as if
some explosion
everyone bated
look at their idiotic
think now, think hard
what comes next
.
Wednesday, July 01, 2015
all the grooming politesse of night
O men dreary rolling their armpits
through the steam
oh look he says to the mirror oh look
that's all
this is what it is to live
to have to cater for secretions and stench
to work with to manage
he lights a cigarette and blows a faceful
of smirking smoke
stuffs it in the plug with hisses
there now, block up, he whispers
you are nothing but a trap
full of hair and death
of most unfortunate breath
suddenly startled at himself
he goes straight back to bed
to perform last vile acts before work
in th bathrm a elephant as if
forms itself
but does not shave
three women of ages without hair appear dead
in the bath
without grace or meaning
the beat and industry
trumpet and jazz
jazz and strumpet
gone to work far-off
in mists of southern slick
signed
Dot
.
.
through the steam
oh look he says to the mirror oh look
that's all
this is what it is to live
to have to cater for secretions and stench
to work with to manage
he lights a cigarette and blows a faceful
of smirking smoke
stuffs it in the plug with hisses
there now, block up, he whispers
you are nothing but a trap
full of hair and death
of most unfortunate breath
suddenly startled at himself
he goes straight back to bed
to perform last vile acts before work
in th bathrm a elephant as if
forms itself
but does not shave
three women of ages without hair appear dead
in the bath
without grace or meaning
the beat and industry
trumpet and jazz
jazz and strumpet
gone to work far-off
in mists of southern slick
signed
Dot
.
.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
miracules
the enclosing lushness of the path
to the Pooh Sticks bridge
Herb Robert is everywhere
reaching, with its tiny pink starlight
offset by the blue walls
with their mossed-up faces
hanging over the beck
where one cannot help but stop (along)
and ask for reassurance
with such miracles
we sleep at riversides
.
to the Pooh Sticks bridge
Herb Robert is everywhere
reaching, with its tiny pink starlight
offset by the blue walls
with their mossed-up faces
hanging over the beck
where one cannot help but stop (along)
and ask for reassurance
with such miracles
we sleep at riversides
.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
schlock and schlock again
all that it ever was A major bouncing like
me and uh you in a bouncy castle by a uh river
no minors no sevenths no augmented
nothing but front out gutloose oh fuck
all of it swirled in smerk
dried up now in petrie dishes
like dead squirrels
in rude postcards from the Front
both dead in the mud
not even not even
squirreling
don't fool yourself
time is what we don't have
sit back anyway
you may as well die comfortable
.
me and uh you in a bouncy castle by a uh river
no minors no sevenths no augmented
nothing but front out gutloose oh fuck
all of it swirled in smerk
dried up now in petrie dishes
like dead squirrels
in rude postcards from the Front
both dead in the mud
not even not even
squirreling
don't fool yourself
time is what we don't have
sit back anyway
you may as well die comfortable
.
machine sea
ugh a dread from over
the far morbay that blackback fells stark
into spluts of early birdscold
a monster inching inthing . that ingrew
[airturtles in lifts of silent drubdead] a waiting grew in-again
and ingrew
until over all.the cock and cocklefield was a mainshout pulked
all-ending the lowscrats
in their long-hauled ruggers lugged hard.
the gutwives widing the redroll to belift
in now the men the drymen in, in
acres now to the barrel-beaches with the uncut catch inwarped.
fishimps and ghosts sidelaying low as lie-low for Jamaico
on the eastlandic scottles .............of west herringbane
and chinee soup schlocked in-out in octofathoms
of hemp drabingers, haulers, menwomen
from the near-sea teeters.a washup iglooed him up in rubs
on a southbeach known by no one.his/her face disglued
the songs of how they wore their sea-sucks unscrewed
now from his beachheart and heave-head for the far Cathay tubs
(published in The Triggerfish Critical Review, 2011)
into spluts of early birdscold
a monster inching inthing . that ingrew
[airturtles in lifts of silent drubdead] a waiting grew in-again
and ingrew
until over all.the cock and cocklefield was a mainshout pulked
all-ending the lowscrats
in their long-hauled ruggers lugged hard.
the gutwives widing the redroll to belift
in now the men the drymen in, in
acres now to the barrel-beaches with the uncut catch inwarped.
fishimps and ghosts sidelaying low as lie-low for Jamaico
on the eastlandic scottles .............of west herringbane
and chinee soup schlocked in-out in octofathoms
of hemp drabingers, haulers, menwomen
from the near-sea teeters.a washup iglooed him up in rubs
on a southbeach known by no one.his/her face disglued
the songs of how they wore their sea-sucks unscrewed
now from his beachheart and heave-head for the far Cathay tubs
(published in The Triggerfish Critical Review, 2011)
Cronos eat (jelly) babies (to the Gala)
what we call watch they call un show
we look it from different sides
somewhere between this thumb or toe
time and tongue for no—elides
[—this to 'veal the camembert drool
pinched with pincers from anabapt
munsters calumnous to some fool
hung to dry on Omaha—rapt—]
gagging for Kiplings who states his cakes
that eau est le fuel of the kill
is that which jelly babies makes
in Time if it's coiffured its fill
.
we look it from different sides
somewhere between this thumb or toe
time and tongue for no—elides
[—this to 'veal the camembert drool
pinched with pincers from anabapt
munsters calumnous to some fool
hung to dry on Omaha—rapt—]
gagging for Kiplings who states his cakes
that eau est le fuel of the kill
is that which jelly babies makes
in Time if it's coiffured its fill
.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
(a hypnagogue for JM)
... that slepen al the nighte with open ye—Chaucer
... delight ain't just the giver of sight—Madeleine Shine
... because he is absolutely evil amounts—Camus
... the best method of accomplishing
an accidental result—Ambrose Bierce
... whose evil consequences will extend—
Currer Bell
(it is a dawn it is a purple drift and yaw
in which the like and light and fore)
it is water underground
it is dapple on the dead
it is sunlight bent around
beneath the bed
The Deer
—it went by in a clatter, panic
you didn't see or hear
yet both of us gets franic
abouts the outcomes here—
waking to all of the other: so far
(there to spread) the waning paling night
dawning-disaster, and delight
undead
alight
what asters, dear
what fright
.
Monday, June 08, 2015
jump or roll the dice
The people we write for
are always already gone
and will never read us again
we write only for ghosts
—Madeleine Shine
once it becomes clear
that you are falling asleep
at the wheel
and that some other driver
takes over
seemingly with every intent
to drive the bus off the road
it really becomes immaterial
how beautiful the destination
how well you describe it
how it is just around the next bend
at this point your passengers
are advised to cut their losses
and jump
before the next lapse
they can grieve later
for the garden they never reached
for the dreams they lost along the way
but they will live
as they watch
the mad bus
the driver
and his dark brother
disappear into the mountains
.
.
are always already gone
and will never read us again
we write only for ghosts
—Madeleine Shine
once it becomes clear
that you are falling asleep
at the wheel
and that some other driver
takes over
seemingly with every intent
to drive the bus off the road
it really becomes immaterial
how beautiful the destination
how well you describe it
how it is just around the next bend
at this point your passengers
are advised to cut their losses
and jump
before the next lapse
they can grieve later
for the garden they never reached
for the dreams they lost along the way
but they will live
as they watch
the mad bus
the driver
and his dark brother
disappear into the mountains
.
.
last night I walked with a zombie
inconceivable now as the pathway
its soft-looking venoms
where once
the bell the bell the clang
that rang for us zombies
at the river's edge
blood in cups we drank
so slow and soft
slicking each other's bloodlips
never really asking
it's not me
it's not my family
in your head
we the walking dead
eating at each other's brains
lack of brains
wasting unrepeatable miracles
muscle, fat, fibre
connective tissue
brain most of all, this head offal—
all these we devour and desire
our species
yes we desire most of all
our own species
and we are rare
what's in your head tonight
zombie? oh oh oh
bury me under a heavy stone
let it be inscribed
with warnings
not to unearth monsters
lest one has time to talk
and the fortitude to wait
for all of it to become true
.
.
its soft-looking venoms
where once
the bell the bell the clang
that rang for us zombies
at the river's edge
blood in cups we drank
so slow and soft
slicking each other's bloodlips
never really asking
it's not me
it's not my family
in your head
we the walking dead
eating at each other's brains
lack of brains
wasting unrepeatable miracles
muscle, fat, fibre
connective tissue
brain most of all, this head offal—
all these we devour and desire
our species
yes we desire most of all
our own species
and we are rare
what's in your head tonight
zombie? oh oh oh
bury me under a heavy stone
let it be inscribed
with warnings
not to unearth monsters
lest one has time to talk
and the fortitude to wait
for all of it to become true
.
.
Sunday, June 07, 2015
or maybe stoats lofted, Biggles?
what are you like with heat?
there is a tide in the heat and beat
which if taken at the flood, would
what do you call a man with no head
no arms no legs no body?
it is a sort of rude joke and like seagulls
not to be trusted or rusted or thrusted
though no doubt the years have it
crusted. once I sat in a café in Cairo
watching a gang guy twist his moustache
the divvil, he said, they think I am afraid
from the divvil I am afraid from no divvil
which point he produce his flick knife
breathe hard. the divvil, he says
the divvil. by this point I study
indifference and his display falls flat
but is quickly redeemed by weasels
which jump over our tables
in a late-night kahwa. will, one thinks,
one, ever, find, ones, way, home
through these midnight weasels?
wreathed as they are in hashish smoke?
twenty five years on, the weasels?
wind in the arch?
we hoot and feel the resonance of masonry?
at least my parenting does this?
dick was the answer, didn't you know?
just like bob was the other answer
now there is the Theory of Everything
it's more complex than you thought
this weasel thing of love
first you have to answer your own joke
then twirl your own stupid moustache
then recognise your flick knife
most of all
see the weasels, the weasels
then find your way home
to find all the furniture gone
no one ever lived there anyway
what you thinking huh?
brevity is lost to me now
and you also, whoever
.
there is a tide in the heat and beat
which if taken at the flood, would
what do you call a man with no head
no arms no legs no body?
it is a sort of rude joke and like seagulls
not to be trusted or rusted or thrusted
though no doubt the years have it
crusted. once I sat in a café in Cairo
watching a gang guy twist his moustache
the divvil, he said, they think I am afraid
from the divvil I am afraid from no divvil
which point he produce his flick knife
breathe hard. the divvil, he says
the divvil. by this point I study
indifference and his display falls flat
but is quickly redeemed by weasels
which jump over our tables
in a late-night kahwa. will, one thinks,
one, ever, find, ones, way, home
through these midnight weasels?
wreathed as they are in hashish smoke?
twenty five years on, the weasels?
wind in the arch?
we hoot and feel the resonance of masonry?
at least my parenting does this?
dick was the answer, didn't you know?
just like bob was the other answer
now there is the Theory of Everything
it's more complex than you thought
this weasel thing of love
first you have to answer your own joke
then twirl your own stupid moustache
then recognise your flick knife
most of all
see the weasels, the weasels
then find your way home
to find all the furniture gone
no one ever lived there anyway
what you thinking huh?
brevity is lost to me now
and you also, whoever
.
Tuesday, June 02, 2015
Littlebigbang Theory
cold dark matter, some of it bright and hot
some of it not matter
on such a scale that it might appear
arrested, frozen, fixed
in crystal spheres
but in reality flying
outwards from a single point of origin
Play that film backwards—Brian Cox
tracing the reverse trajectory
of all that is or has ever been
brings us at last, second by second
gasping on the shores of cosmic time
to a garden shed near Banbury
there a mild goddess sits
the un-ancient of days
her finger on the button
what done it all
her name the horn of becoming
the park-keeper at the gates of dawn
the shot that was heard around the shed
gnab
.
some of it not matter
on such a scale that it might appear
arrested, frozen, fixed
in crystal spheres
but in reality flying
outwards from a single point of origin
Play that film backwards—Brian Cox
tracing the reverse trajectory
of all that is or has ever been
brings us at last, second by second
gasping on the shores of cosmic time
to a garden shed near Banbury
there a mild goddess sits
the un-ancient of days
her finger on the button
what done it all
her name the horn of becoming
the park-keeper at the gates of dawn
the shot that was heard around the shed
gnab
.
we are the eggmen
as with Burroughs's ugly spirit what killed
his wife one awakes to find one's existence
compromised by forces that appear alien
beyond one's control astonishing how a moment
will unravel everything gasping at the sudden
intervention at how it can never be undone
can never be put back never made whole again
one can of course fret and complain can pine
or preferably one can awake to find one's mouth
and eyes sealed with ectoplasm half-buried
in a ditch in some urban woods waiting to be
kicked to pieces by feral children in the closing
pages of someone else's story in which ultimately
one was only a minor character forgotten
once the book slips from the fingers onto
the bedroom floor where once or twice only
.
his wife one awakes to find one's existence
compromised by forces that appear alien
beyond one's control astonishing how a moment
will unravel everything gasping at the sudden
intervention at how it can never be undone
can never be put back never made whole again
one can of course fret and complain can pine
or preferably one can awake to find one's mouth
and eyes sealed with ectoplasm half-buried
in a ditch in some urban woods waiting to be
kicked to pieces by feral children in the closing
pages of someone else's story in which ultimately
one was only a minor character forgotten
once the book slips from the fingers onto
the bedroom floor where once or twice only
.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Quick poem for Duncan's sculptures
swollen their hard-soft bellies
that are not bellies beyond mathematics
their beaks that are not beaks
this sculptor of the infinite
will confound us with his Grecian tricks
as a sky will fool us with its love
.
that are not bellies beyond mathematics
their beaks that are not beaks
this sculptor of the infinite
will confound us with his Grecian tricks
as a sky will fool us with its love
.
riverghosts aside
the grass in the glint
the hand of your hand
the river's brush
the sun's cackles as the low
small things
away they won't
go the infested the path
what
now always never
.
the hand of your hand
the river's brush
the sun's cackles as the low
small things
away they won't
go the infested the path
what
now always never
.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
ONESUPPOSESTHEAPOLOGIA (eek means also)
there is not one moment in/for which
the clockface of dandelions blown
out as basements will not tell
its facial tells at the table in the tension
of rigging ropes in the niceness tarred
as ancient kings of Natron salt
of all kinds and hues they all taste
with deep ceramic spoons they call it
that now that lying together in sleep or else
now world and children ere the moon the spoon
clock that has no face that has no rise
upon it at dawn and withafter dawn
and at nightsfall in the holy sex
of six and six and nine and hereafter
where the deadfolks the deadfux
as we now lay/lie with our feet updown
on the slow-rafted yet again to flux
what we have love what we have
death in all of it like fossil vampires
what sucks up fires eek phires
eek oupyres eek
so let loose
the fucking goose
eek lend-lease
the freaking geese
.
the clockface of dandelions blown
out as basements will not tell
its facial tells at the table in the tension
of rigging ropes in the niceness tarred
as ancient kings of Natron salt
of all kinds and hues they all taste
with deep ceramic spoons they call it
that now that lying together in sleep or else
now world and children ere the moon the spoon
clock that has no face that has no rise
upon it at dawn and withafter dawn
and at nightsfall in the holy sex
of six and six and nine and hereafter
where the deadfolks the deadfux
as we now lay/lie with our feet updown
on the slow-rafted yet again to flux
what we have love what we have
death in all of it like fossil vampires
what sucks up fires eek phires
eek oupyres eek
so let loose
the fucking goose
eek lend-lease
the freaking geese
.
view blog
it means like the shifting the wheeling
of Patton's army to Bastogne in an instant
this miracle that cannot happen
like that it will not be trusted
for we have no priests with weather prayers
such forces as will have to be arrayed
Oh look, a delight of confluence
of water of flowers of light
and all down the road to the shakes
our hearts delighted
until we reck we rode with skeletons
such liches and fetches
all of it gone now
like unto little lights
underwater snuffing our futures
past and unpast we will not learn or unlearn
our stories of our lost children
.
of Patton's army to Bastogne in an instant
this miracle that cannot happen
like that it will not be trusted
for we have no priests with weather prayers
such forces as will have to be arrayed
Oh look, a delight of confluence
of water of flowers of light
and all down the road to the shakes
our hearts delighted
until we reck we rode with skeletons
such liches and fetches
all of it gone now
like unto little lights
underwater snuffing our futures
past and unpast we will not learn or unlearn
our stories of our lost children
.
always though they follow
all our secrets it is as though
we had convened perhaps
at the riverside
had been alerted to the coming
of the river monster and had fled
dispersed
never to be seen again
our lives are safer now
though so much lessened
by this dearth of monsters
.
we had convened perhaps
at the riverside
had been alerted to the coming
of the river monster and had fled
dispersed
never to be seen again
our lives are safer now
though so much lessened
by this dearth of monsters
.
Eithe Genoimen (reversal)
I would that I were littered stars
cast up upon the tide
that all my eyes might gaze aloft
to where you hence reside
.
cast up upon the tide
that all my eyes might gaze aloft
to where you hence reside
.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
ghosts by the river
the glint in the grass
the brush of your hand
the river
the sun low as the cackles
the small things
they won't go away
the path is always infested now
.
the brush of your hand
the river
the sun low as the cackles
the small things
they won't go away
the path is always infested now
.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Saturday, May 16, 2015
hair-clips
there's nothing left of this but hairclips
perhaps some DNA
which even post-apocalypse
takes time to wash away
.
perhaps some DNA
which even post-apocalypse
takes time to wash away
.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
look harder
look at each other
across the vast gulf
and try to read
what is in your hearts and heads
most of all try
to read yourself
in the eyes of the other
life is so short
so capable of beauty and disaster
it's too late now to look
for anything but truth
as we fly out of the room
on wings of cold silk
love is all we have
that keeps us airborne
gazing down as vibrant birds aloft
into what we know is coming soon
borne upwards in that sudden great heat
and cold that last swoon
to meet us and catch us forever
in its last known slap sideways
into nothing
take your chances and love real hard
little bird
.
across the vast gulf
and try to read
what is in your hearts and heads
most of all try
to read yourself
in the eyes of the other
life is so short
so capable of beauty and disaster
it's too late now to look
for anything but truth
as we fly out of the room
on wings of cold silk
love is all we have
that keeps us airborne
gazing down as vibrant birds aloft
into what we know is coming soon
borne upwards in that sudden great heat
and cold that last swoon
to meet us and catch us forever
in its last known slap sideways
into nothing
take your chances and love real hard
little bird
.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
rag-rug rag
if you can make it here
there's still no guarantee
that you could make it in the Gaza Strip
or the frozen methane
of somewhere else entirely so these fond statements
are very probably false
I recommend you do not trust them
all existence is suffering, sayeth
he sort of as dukkha
O the unsatisfactoriness
of what changes and cannot be relied upon
others of course make of this a virtue: Forever Changes;
Change is Stability and so on
but this too is falsehood, for all those people
died and liked it not much
it's not said to be a great thing
this withering and dying
best not to start it too early
one has nothing to report.
the changes are the same
as they ever were
the same rug from under the same stupid feet
life goes on so thick and fast
so in a whirl of things
stop it, freeze it and examine
the psychical genome
write it here
figure the real options
then and only then
proceed to alight upon the Earth
all the while conscious
that it is spinning and will spin you
one has nothing to report.
the changes are the same
as they ever were
I intend to be married to a stranger
by the end of the day
.
there's still no guarantee
that you could make it in the Gaza Strip
or the frozen methane
of somewhere else entirely so these fond statements
are very probably false
I recommend you do not trust them
all existence is suffering, sayeth
he sort of as dukkha
O the unsatisfactoriness
of what changes and cannot be relied upon
others of course make of this a virtue: Forever Changes;
Change is Stability and so on
but this too is falsehood, for all those people
died and liked it not much
it's not said to be a great thing
this withering and dying
best not to start it too early
one has nothing to report.
the changes are the same
as they ever were
the same rug from under the same stupid feet
life goes on so thick and fast
so in a whirl of things
stop it, freeze it and examine
the psychical genome
write it here
figure the real options
then and only then
proceed to alight upon the Earth
all the while conscious
that it is spinning and will spin you
one has nothing to report.
the changes are the same
as they ever were
I intend to be married to a stranger
by the end of the day
.
Thursday, May 07, 2015
patachresis draught
The raw, which contain bark shavings and bugs during scraping, is placed in canvas tubes (much like long socks) and heated over a feu. This cause the raw to liquify, and it seeps out of the canvas, leaving the bark and bugs behinds. The thick, sticky pasture is then dried into a flat sheete and broken into flakes, or dried into "bouttons" (pucks/cakes), then debagged and sold. The end-user then crushes it into a fine powder and mixes it with ethyl alcohol prior to use. If all is performed aright the bug god will quickly appear.
.
.
Wednesday, May 06, 2015
Sunday, April 26, 2015
in the ruins of lost civilisations
imagine you wake
to find yourself at the wheel
of a miraculous vehicle
smoking down the highway
to some destination you suddenly forgot
well wouldn't you even ask anything about it?
.
to find yourself at the wheel
of a miraculous vehicle
smoking down the highway
to some destination you suddenly forgot
well wouldn't you even ask anything about it?
.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
de quidditas et bedknobs
It's not a smile, it's the lid on a scream
—Julie Goodyear
I'm going to be a star
—Withnail
(Oh the shock has pretty teeth, dear)
who anyway, not Lotte, the male, sang that opera?
//Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in mini-series
the magician in armani the guru
stands there looking like that
i'm going to be a star he says
with deep sheepish ignored
or (try got better( therapy from my future
think of him there that day all flowery
and embarrassing with his trying
(as they don't say in whales, Keep your Aberaeron
keep your bloody Abertmesisaeron!)
imagine what they will think of us
in 200 years, how cruel they will think
how cloddish and stupid, how unborn
how dead to technology and sophistication
/where is this line of the god flew up
what Hebroo scrip what desert codec
rcds this friv?/
¿but is anyway unborn dead
or only that sunlit moment each morning
before you remember she is gone¿
[singular they for instants
when i tell some a joke they laughs haha]
hoho you see like unto a god that flies up
it is as a heron what lifts water at dawn
rises into silhouettes
of maddened saccade beatwingxz
over perhaps Dresden or othermother
flaccid with potatoes
O those mericans and their exorcised lingua
shorn of antecedent at all opportunity
down to mere function
for why should one waste time
with the waxing god when one can just ask straight
out robot I fuck you now—if denied
move quickly on it is best for all
¿why flourish and perform why¿
get it out of your mouth quick
so it is over efficiently, without superfluity
without Greek or French
and with as little Latin
as may be contrived
for language cleansed of excess
to clinic sex-negative utility is all atavism
of the expressive, sharp, decisive
nostratic and primal grunt such a height
such an idyll from which we fell and fall
thankful at last to the elbow in the teeth
of a pre-PIE Webster—little wonder they elasticize
& plasticize each into triphthongs
of unknowing, delighted, savoured necromancy
the reanimation of the banished the instinct empathy
for/with the slain or bootstamped facial zones.maybe
then nothing is dead but still
from crevices
where the lost invisible god jumps up
(do you hear me when you sleep i have died?)
wordy, well word up
fuck you, he says with his dripping schticks, I am Nature
watch this car.keep watching
80 miles per hour face first into a tree he attempts
to become one again with Nature
but only succeeds in dying drunk
on a bright day dripping his most ambitious inevitable
no you ain't phoney no more, J
hey
youse all murder in sunlight new york fuck
love
as they don't say in whales, there is a taid
in the affairs of men
and a god flies up
.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Socrates just annoys me with warnings of anachronism.
Oh a bath full of blood or a cup
of hemlock either should suffice
to stop the travel of self-reflexive idiocy
I am not surprised really I am not surprised
O but just the other day my friend a butcher
as it happens and a worthy man questioned
the firmness of meat and how it is to be
evaluated for surely it might be like rock
or iron or even clay so how then are we to know
the true firmness. There in the marketplace
O out they knocked his teeth with stones
and clay and bars of iron and all was known.
What now can we say of the firmness
the iron-hard resilience
of marriage
in such dazzling sunlight
when all the world leaks in
and says it not?
.
of hemlock either should suffice
to stop the travel of self-reflexive idiocy
I am not surprised really I am not surprised
O but just the other day my friend a butcher
as it happens and a worthy man questioned
the firmness of meat and how it is to be
evaluated for surely it might be like rock
or iron or even clay so how then are we to know
the true firmness. There in the marketplace
O out they knocked his teeth with stones
and clay and bars of iron and all was known.
What now can we say of the firmness
the iron-hard resilience
of marriage
in such dazzling sunlight
when all the world leaks in
and says it not?
.
Some strange claims have been made for the Greeks.
What nonsense that the Ancient Greeks created our ideas of physical beauty. We got that from when we were pre-human, and a strong, healthy body aided survival, just like we got 90% of our awareness of poisons and foodstuffs and danger from when we were pre-human.
Allow us the bigger time, you idiot specialists in the Greeks, who think all things are Greek things. To human consciousness human evolution is almost on the scale of geological time. You don't think of this, you people who look for beginnings rather than continuums and evolutionary arcs.
I promise you that ten thousand years before Mycenae the same forms attracted the same attention and evaluation in all cultures. When we see this today and like it today, we are not referencing the Kore or Kouros, but the far more ancient issues of health and survival. This is our wiring, and we did not acquire it as recently as three thousand years ago.
Almost all of human existence was spent as hunter-gatherers. Would anyone care to tell me what body-shapes were preferred, or even compatible with survival, for all of that time, if they were not the same as those which the Greeks (admittedly) venerated, but did not invent?
This is, after all, as always, the Sacred Way, the Hierá Hodós, whatever we think of it as we hike and bike through its blinding, now banal, chaos, now outlined with its adipose moped-mephitic kouroi. This is not at the end of the day; it is the onset of night. It ends as always at the tiny temple of Demeter, She who dwells in the seed. And don't forget she is and always has been a bee.
.
Allow us the bigger time, you idiot specialists in the Greeks, who think all things are Greek things. To human consciousness human evolution is almost on the scale of geological time. You don't think of this, you people who look for beginnings rather than continuums and evolutionary arcs.
I promise you that ten thousand years before Mycenae the same forms attracted the same attention and evaluation in all cultures. When we see this today and like it today, we are not referencing the Kore or Kouros, but the far more ancient issues of health and survival. This is our wiring, and we did not acquire it as recently as three thousand years ago.
Almost all of human existence was spent as hunter-gatherers. Would anyone care to tell me what body-shapes were preferred, or even compatible with survival, for all of that time, if they were not the same as those which the Greeks (admittedly) venerated, but did not invent?
This is, after all, as always, the Sacred Way, the Hierá Hodós, whatever we think of it as we hike and bike through its blinding, now banal, chaos, now outlined with its adipose moped-mephitic kouroi. This is not at the end of the day; it is the onset of night. It ends as always at the tiny temple of Demeter, She who dwells in the seed. And don't forget she is and always has been a bee.
.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
discus etc Myron
one leg weight-bearing and the other not ...
this is an untruth
one is weighted and the other braced
also weight-bearing, carrying all the potential
the other merely a fulcrum for the explosion
which will propel this UFO down the centuries
through our smoking eyes from the Severity
to the Abandonment
of all beauty. O it is a moment of shattering, it is an act
of terror, it is not to be contemplated
in its window-breaking vagabound and vagary
leave it to fly and its shards to fix
its immanence
too damn late now
.
this is an untruth
one is weighted and the other braced
also weight-bearing, carrying all the potential
the other merely a fulcrum for the explosion
which will propel this UFO down the centuries
through our smoking eyes from the Severity
to the Abandonment
of all beauty. O it is a moment of shattering, it is an act
of terror, it is not to be contemplated
in its window-breaking vagabound and vagary
leave it to fly and its shards to fix
its immanence
too damn late now
.
Monday, March 30, 2015
we love icy noctiluca
some girls are bigger than other girls' smothers
you mustn't dream your eyes your violet cruelty
oh what nonsense as we jump
shut that up yes.there she lay like an oaf
with nothing to offer
Buddhism, she said, meaning hatred and cloud
all things are gravity, everything falling
into itself.
therefore this is nothing
obviously
we get the dreams we deserve
some girls are smalling than the imaginary eye of a camel-needle
done by a Dali
falling falling
downstairs like his sister off a bridge
now, really really
what you sighing?
.
/
,
you mustn't dream your eyes your violet cruelty
oh what nonsense as we jump
shut that up yes.there she lay like an oaf
with nothing to offer
Buddhism, she said, meaning hatred and cloud
all things are gravity, everything falling
into itself.
therefore this is nothing
obviously
we get the dreams we deserve
some girls are smalling than the imaginary eye of a camel-needle
done by a Dali
falling falling
downstairs like his sister off a bridge
now, really really
what you sighing?
.
/
,
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
For balance and measure, here is Wikipedia's etymology about the word 'hallow:'
Etymology[edit]
Further information: Weoh
The noun is from the Old English adjective hālig, nominalised as se hālga "the holy man". The Gothic word for "holy" is either hailags or weihaba, weihs. "To hold as holy" or "to become holy" is weihnan, "to make holy, to sanctify" is weihan. Holiness or sanctification is weihiþa. Old English, like Gothic, had a second term of similar meaning, wēoh "holy", with a substantive wīh or wīg, Old High Germanwīh or wīhi (Middle High German wîhe, Modern German Weihe). The Nordendorf fibula has wigiþonar, interpreted as wīgi-þonar "holy Donar" or "sacred to Donar". Old Norse vé is a type of shrine. Theweihs group is cognate to Latin victima, an animal dedicated to the gods and destined to be sacrificed.
In current usage[edit]
Hallow, as a noun, is a synonym of the word saint.[3][4] In modern English usage, the noun "hallow" appears mostly in the compound Hallowtide, a liturgical season which includes the days of Halloweenand Hallowmas.[5] Halloween (or Hallowe'en) is a shortened form of "All Hallow Even," meaning "All Hallows' Eve" or "All Saints' Eve."[6] Hallowmas, the day after Halloween, is shortened from "Hallows'Mass," and is also known as "All Hallows' Day" or "All Saints' Day."[7]
In legend[edit]
Some important and powerful objects in legends could be referred to as "hallows" because of their function and symbolism.[8] The Tuatha de Danaan in Ireland possessed the Four Treasures of Ireland which could be interpreted as "hallows": the Spear of Lugh, Stone of Fal, the Sword of Light of Nuada, and The Dagda's Cauldron.
In the modern period, some neo-pagans believe that the four suits in the Rider-Waite Tarot cards deck (swords, wands, pentacles and cups), which are also a representation of the four classical elementsof air, fire, earth and water, are also hallows.
Coronation ceremonies for monarchs still invokes four ritual objects, now represented as the sceptre, sword, ampulla of oil, and crown. Similar objects also appear in Arthurian legends, where the Fisher King is the guardian of four "hallows" representing the four elements: a dish (earth), Arthur's sword Excalibur (air), the Holy Lance or spear, baton, or a magic wand (fire), and the Holy Grail (water).[9]
Earlier Welsh tradition, as recorded in Trioedd Ynys Prydain, also refers to Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain. Symbolically, these could also be interpreted as "hallows", although they are not actually described as such in the medieval Welsh texts.
The Irish may or may not be impervious to psychoanalysis, but fuck all that I'm from Liverpool and as cooked down concentrated mythological psychoanalysed and wild as it gets.You just can't handle wild. Go find your own clover you small thing that is incapable of joy and expression. We are of the Hollow Hills and we will kill you with our love—Madeleine Shine. 2005.
Hello
Personally, I am inclined to believe that the derivation of the word 'hello' is linked to the word 'hallow,' and that the word is in fact a blessing. Here is Wikipedia's etymology, though some of it is transparently functional, superficial, and late:
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, hello is an alteration of hallo, hollo,[5] which came from Old High German "halâ, holâ, emphatic imperative of halôn, holôn to fetch, used especially in hailing a ferryman."[6] It also connects the development of hello to the influence of an earlier form, holla, whose origin is in the French holà (roughly, 'whoa there!', from French là 'there').[7] As in addition to hello,halloo,[8] hallo, hollo, hullo and (rarely) hillo also exist as variants or related words, the word can be spelt using any of all five vowels.[citation needed]
Telephone
The use of hello as a telephone greeting has been credited to Thomas Edison; according to one source, he expressed his surprise with a misheard Hullo.[9] Alexander Graham Bell initially used Ahoy (as used on ships) as a telephone greeting.[10][11] However, in 1877, Edison wrote to T.B.A. David, the president of the Central District and Printing Telegraph Company of Pittsburgh:
Friend David, I do not think we shall need a call bell as Hello! can be heard 10 to 20 feet away.What you think? Edison - P.S. first cost of sender & receiver to manufacture is only $7.00.[12]
By 1889, central telephone exchange operators were known as 'hello-girls' due to the association between the greeting and the telephone.[11]
Hullo
Hello may be derived from hullo, which the American Merriam-Webster dictionary describes as a "chiefly British variant of hello,"[13] and which was originally used as an exclamation to call attention, an expression of surprise, or a greeting. Hullo is found in publications as early as 1803.[14] The word hullo is still in use, with the meaning hello.[15][16][17][18][19]
Hallo and hollo
Hello is alternatively thought to come from the word hallo (1840) via hollo (also holla, holloa, halloo, halloa).[13] The definition of hollo is to shout or an exclamation originally shouted in a hunt when the quarry was spotted:[13]
If I fly, Marcius,/Halloo me like a hare.—Coriolanus (I.viii.7), William Shakespeare
Fowler's has it that "hallo" is first recorded "as a shout to call attention" in 1864.[20] It is used by Samuel Taylor Coleridge's famous poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner written in 1798:
And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!
Hallo is also German, Danish, Norwegian, Dutch and Afrikaans for Hello. It is used in the Dutch language as early as 1797 in a letter from Willem Bilderdijk to his sister in law as a remark of astonishment.[21]
Webster's dictionary from 1913 traces the etymology of holloa to the Old English halow and suggests: "Perhaps from ah + lo; compare Anglo Saxon ealā."
According to the American Heritage Dictionary, hallo is a modification of the obsolete holla (stop!), perhaps from Old French hola (ho, ho! + la, there, from Latin illac, that way).[22]
The Old English verb, hǽlan (1. wv/t1b 1 to heal, cure, save; greet, salute; gehǽl! Hosanna!), may be the ultimate origin of the word.[23] Hǽlan is likely a cognate of German Heil (meaning complete for things and healthy for beings) and other similar words of Germanic origin. Bill Bryson asserts in his book Mother Tongue that "hello" comes from Old English hál béo þu ("Hale be thou", or "whole be thou", meaning a wish for good health) (see also "goodbye" which is a contraction of "God be with you".