Friday, December 30, 2005

Shrine on the edge of the Lake in Udipar

subjunctive rearticulation project

Behind the divided divided, behind enemy lines, beyond the dissolution somewhat nothing phenomena, dividing infinite division eating an infinite division, washing over plasmic arcane subordinate clauses, washing over plasma, washing infinitesimal monstrous possibilities in continuous bi-products, by the dozen, permanent manners, semi-permeate never permanent sorting, sorting wet rocks from the wet, sorting wet rocks from the wet, getting ready to feed the hungry, I am dividing words dividing lines into lines, dividing rose from air, form from air, air from air, a photograph from someone I never knew from someone I will never know, I am dissolving something wasting away, something wet, something rock, lost dissolving per kilo, per kilometer, by the bag, talking to who is talking to who is you, time to see how much whose time is yours, time to see how much time dividing constantly, dividing counting verbal slippage, action theory, a storyline in time, a sign dividing developing, endlessly practicing the practice, cost per million, per head, per gain of sand, a point in case in a point time, production pure and applied, ever purer production, when refined and per-reapplied applied atoms seeking representations, a present re re re re re recast representation, our present representation seemingly recast miss-spoken speaker, speaking seemingly spoken state formations, law production pure and applied, always on time, opposed to those mute struggling, hungry, opposed to those mute, struggling, already buried, binding someone’s re representation to pre-represent rolling clouds of dust, in the middle of a rolling army dust, in the middle of the night, rolling new highways, new ways success is counted, sweetness is success counting, success is counting sweetness, success is counting successes, dividing lies by stains, by distant amorality, driving this and that vehicle to this or that work to build this or that night sky, to bury the dead you put haste into leisure, rang the bell, lay centuries behind, all so well trained, educational priest with advance reprieve, on their knees, removing eyes for truth sake, I open my eyes, I am in India, happening again and again, this is the second happening, happening again and again. mindless frighten twice, trouble getting in trouble going. Something remembers memory’s distortion, remembers a distorted memory, remembers a truth told distortions, told by priest with degrees, again something dissolving a monstrous steaming cosigned, standing in an apparent alphabet, I am standing in my own standpoint, standing in a particular temporal applied something speaking for the instance that is, an instance ignoring the continuous standing points, missing the field, held and lost, recognizing the linking together of linking tighter, held and lost, lost talking standing production thing smiling stabilities, a constant whorl nothing fixed not moving and not, in the light and not, in the lapses, divided constantly dividing the hammering divided constant dividing constant.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Somewhere in Jaisalmer

subjunctive rearticulation project

Something fails to realize, somethings cast to another opaque profit bloom elsewhere. I ask someone for more time in a field of time, where there is chokehold on language, in the masses, in the throat, in a gag reaction, in the unbroken people yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Afraid to speak to something anything, fearing the fear of fear, afraid to speak to the fear of fear, or tell tail hearts turning to tell, something rewritten to too many forgotten in the first mistaken, before not written, even though even than, to be sure who is listening, staged to invade the margins, informants securing premises, quotation marks disappearing and reappearing, guessing who is is, is coming, got beef, got dinner, got intermission, bathroom break, just checking to see who is listening, who is looking, who is here under what underneath layer of flesh. The many missing, maybe miasma over riding the impossible possible, over determined nonbeliever, in between believing and not, skeptic short term, long term undoing between lines, between friends and foe, between constantly undoing the frame as backdrop, set design, in the theater conquest subzero life preserver, held against the will, against a need for non time, against the need for a name, for a non-ambiguous starting point, words within linguistic limits, spontaneous self formation, manifest inherent thing source, inevitable self rearrangement, acknowledging the road does not exist, the line does not exist, forever is forever broken, never a conduit for listening. We need our ears to the ground, interpreters, translations, lost radio waves, static sound bites coming in loud and clear, lost nowhere with nowhere else to go, nomadic wanderings, shifting identities, not non not identities, with accompments extremist throwing hand grenade like sowing beans, nor not not, or undulating particles, soil, ash, fire, wood, iron, lead, rust, and decay, shimmering purity of pure decay in gradual decay, notches and stems, broken and worn, melting forms that met one another into another’s broader borders, in a manner of speaking, blinking unblinking eyes, blinking eager to breach the wall, with hand, thumbs fingers, calling out our blood is your blood, our hours isyour house of the same difference, listening for another exit possibility to exist, in an another others cry for love

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Wall inside Jaisalmer Fort

Monday, December 26, 2005

From inside Jaisalmer Fort

Sunday, December 25, 2005

subjunctive rearticulation project

With a hollow ribcage, my throbbing skeleton continues on a tourist outside, headlong into an apex of pity, and anger. A parable strewn with corpses on cash register trail. But first, I must tell you of the million dead children, the amazing fast food nation of shrinking bodies, eyes burnt for the privileged and let us not forget, forced fed through metal pipes, fattened Pate de foie gras, beast called geese. But that is another story, another register and I must pass onto more plausible explanations by the text, where plausibility is plural in triplicate, with surrender to customs for approval, paid off government officials for expedience and turning a blind eye from the shifting wall of living subjects. The throbbing continues, there is a morning call to prayer, an encasement of a village by sound waves, and all this could explain the sequence in various ways; the quest, the novelty, the island episodes with its three part mini series, or for the semi-cultured, girl Friday volunteer opportunities.

We all occupy an indeterminate space between human, animal and space. The earth is a temporary dwelling with no foundational name. Words are loosing there mode of existence. The next day is dress-up day, each day the performance goes on. There is the guardian of walking eyes, hieroglyphs, ideograms, or is there a secret that they hold no secret at all? Each a scrupulous effort at decoding or deciphering, being its own structural possibility of nothing, putting the past in tupperware sealability, writing whose test is whose; the national hero or the European cannon, the saint or the demi-god, the myth on the alter or a plastic jesus postcard, or a fixed floating nightmare of conscious existence, which can neither be classed as an illusion or existence, but reality throwing itself into mutable forms. A neither is and the many, another throbbing dawn pale blue sky.

Truban sales at Jodphur

Thursday, December 22, 2005

three who wanted their photos taken at Jodhpur

stuff shop at Jodhpur

woman at jodhpur

Subjunctive rearticulation project

Within fairies tales of science and planned gift exchange, delight losses itself in insensible matter and emerges in varied pain, pleasure, love, hatred and indifference to the voice that can no longer call to itself, muted by broadcast practices of possessing, dissolving, and devouring each other attempting to call the self a self, muted in a state of a state emergency, attempting to call out, “there is a real state emergency with large billboards on bodies, a progressive system called, welfare progress, where when at home we can leave famine behind, where there is no place like no home. At lost articles and multiplied adjectives the voice vomits, tends to not believe in remember songs, fairgrounds and price of admission, and calls out, “I remember one who did not speak or move, perfected the art of starring at walls and perished. All the while thinking, “thou shall never, never in a million lists of grievances, never want to inhabit national abstractions,” crying out in a voice that could not call to itself, “listen to the mechanical melody, listen, again and again to the rising coffins at the local shell station, and repeat after me, if we want to get something done, we must ignore that, with all provisions made, the end will still be inconclusive.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Temple on top of Guru Shikhar, the highest peak in Rajasthan

Subjunctive rearticulation project

Yesterday someone said before I slept, while I lay asleep, someone said someone else called and left a message, “send your identity, blah, blah, blah . . . and by the end of the week the answer will come." So, listen to the rains and windmill or something like that. The question will have to wait, blah, blah, blah . . . the truth is variable, comes in grams and kilos. Facts who said. And splendor will fall on castle walls, crumbling with age and arrogance, in mass on the battlefield surrounding this hunk of decay, in echoes of dying, blow-by-blow they fall dying, life piled on life. Physical pleasure and pain are more difficult to apply a universal to. The very domain of each individual nerve ending, each bunch of electric impulses, so on and so on and so it goes, the answer varies under severe torture, some feel no pain, while others, shopping in a department store, die instantly, blah, blah, blah . . . is nothing more than complex shocks of multitudinous forces on a limited construction recoiling in a desperate act of self representation against the mechanical screen’s ceaseless remedy entering the mind's mass, growing a growth, opening an office that uses different departments to limit action, control knowledge and increase egotistic impulses repeating, “learn your role and work within guidelines, the answer is coming,” genetically modified, blah, blah, blah . . . happens for the accountability of time to protect those lost in the dark and in pain. So, please repeat after me, “I will not be temped to set myself in opposition to a law that is not justice.” Or as alternative ending, though I cannot see you, but I say to you in great humility, you cannot do anything for us or me or them. We become unclean the moment you enter our lives . . . no more relief, no more public education. Asking us to remain motionless with our wings folded and waiting for obliteration and nuclear extinction, while you grow soil in test tubes having already destroyed the global surface everywhere else. No, the answer does not judge between the register of truth, simply stages them in separate spaces. This is not science fiction either, more a dumbstruck withdraw, blah, blah, blah . . .

The problem, truth can only be stored in strategic segregation proclaiming opposition where there is complicity by denying the possibility of randomness in the violent sky, everywhere has been touched by it and knows. The elimination of the possible, either by being cast to the imperfect or perverse, because we do not seek the essence of contact, but look only for the effects to match with our desires and fears, a fill-in-the-blank taken as the real real, an escape from personality into a medium of impressions introducing a list of nameless people at the end of a poem.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Shoe sales person @ Mt. Abu

Subjunctive rearticulation project

Being able to only harness life through dead words, what do I know of the subject surpassing its itinerary of madness; by rote, a reiterative condition full of dull terror; by arrogance of minds, accumulative sins, tears, idle tears, and divine tears of despair. And in the morning darkness and distance without even a pool to cast a reflection in, only odds and ends of text to read through, wallowing in this body and that, where behind each act is a play in which one can choose to be one of three characters in the royal family, Oedipus, Antigone, and or Tiresias, the chameleon eating bugs on the road side, dodging the hordes on the way to dinner and low calorie enlightenment. Or could it be a David before growing to a Goliath or Frankenstein’s monster who bases all on Paradise lost’s ruined offspring and universal blank. My mind runs amok in the rains and rumors of rat eating vipers. Some say celebrate the small things, but in relation to what? Nothing? Two point perspective and or the quantum will with its multiple worlds emerging, leaving one with a myriad of infinite universes undulating in the unimaginable.

The middle of Mt. Abu

Egg sales Mt. Abu

Bangle @ Mt. Abu

Saturday, December 17, 2005

some of the glories sigh for prophets
some, sigh and take the cash
shed a silken tear
for those buried alive
one by one
denied rewards
scattered on the ground
too minuscule to be nourish
licking the soil
hoping for proof of proof
to nurture swollen bellies
mixed with fecal matter and cast off flesh
a lamp amid darkness
on lips of poor fruitless attempts
secret dreams dream of
heavenly vintage tomorrows
a cup of dust and clay carcasses
at dawn
do the nothing
running sadness to the ground

strange though
I prefer to play with matches
rough ride midnights helpless pleas
wander under tomorrows silence
then yesterdays lapse into
praying for an evolutionary jerk forward
drinking death from another
luckless plot

oh body
washed in blood
and covered in phosphorous ash
spring me one last breath
filled with real remnants
quick-silver and lead
let me drink from you
sorry scheme of things
let me touch the spot
that bites back
in the dark unknown
once again

Friday, December 16, 2005

Looted octoberautographs

how does kidnapped matter
arise pale purple shrills
at daybreak
narrows in the white of dawn
bomb the body
frozen food
1000 miles from the stomach
surrender dirt thoughts
in loud vowels
beaming telecast over demands?

how do these heavy wing thieves
teach a chorus of dumb parody
choked from inside out
endless triumphal
chants of victory
over shadows
and piety annoyances
for a better before
the most
sincerest laughter
offers no resistances
pre-approved ghost
strangers who offer nothing
by stomping monopolies
and thoughts w/in
a glut of sorrows
and burn leaves
under histories
gray steel?

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Lemon water bar Mt. Abu


Monday, December 12, 2005

still unlighted

thou swollen divine
sung parasol garden lackings
locks your teleological bacon
through harmony hegemony
hallelujah for undifferentiated faith
hurray for a practical refusal
in your petite civilized
twirling shadow under sky

beginning empty
with accessories
expressing sensitivity
in your personalized liminal disruption
to the pale and shovel
hand hauled agate brigade

forgetting some cling to
flesh lost still on lakes bottom
hoping for last resort

have you forgotten
all your
deliberate vignettes
transcendental recasting
wordless opposition
towards something almost biter
on the brink
replaces an entire
gets gendered
turns white
has object stasis
sounds crucifixion sirens
material reborn

but than again
could be an illusional quality
from that which
knows no contrary
step’s steps
stepping onto
that that
and received the step
stepping and receiving
chunks of real
figuring itself out
limited by the ground
it stands on
vanishing by the day

Sunday, December 11, 2005

By the bay at Mumbai

I am going back though my photos (900 of them)and posting some that I like.. hope you emjoy..

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

I lost my place
In a double action
mixed anthropomorphized
metaphoric whoops
knowing what is
is knowing
what is is
is not seen
those few orginal
drove hard
into soft pockets
of flesh
lost in a cabinet
of song creatures
mocking accidental tourists
labor accquring
please please
place me in the
foot stone body
the subjected subject
lost in
longer and longer
of arboreal ethnic
where extenion phones
form births of forgetting
wedding and funerals
mourning and festivals
tear rocks on lost cliff legs
time mirage accents
conviently indivisible
in units of salt
somewhere where light is law
and tunes for dying
evaporate pure reason

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Two Mosques at Mandu

Monday, December 05, 2005

and if beyond that washes back

If beyond the self is the self, is the self beyond essential multiworld universal nonescapable caring, curious, creating moment by moment multiple wave forms snaking being into a sensual manifestation of another walking talking piece of dirt, rock, wolf man, assassin, praying salvation childhood romp in a field, not quite a field, expanding rough hewn physical expression of momentary physical dream centers centered in that that has no center, transforming harmony to a determinate other, to another succession of overlapping finite appearances, appearing for the first time beyond anything and fully present in a dying mumbling prayer, thrown to the next baptized wayward fringe of a pale afternoon opportunity, dumb with luck or quivering conscious incantation, sensing joy, sorrow, pleasure, pain, truth, error, good and evil, dissolving over the moment, forming an egocentric appendage realized in transmutable variables, sending and receiving to a self that has no center, only moments of semi-aquatic lucidity.

in the town of Mandu

Outpost of Mandu