A collective blog on the fusion between art-literature-poetry and music or how these different disciplines interacted and amused
themselves and were muses for each other at the same time. This blog
invites authors also to publish their own work on LAMUSAR or to give
comments on books they like and why?!
If you hesitate, let you inspire by these words received from the Fiji Isles:
SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL, MANY SMALLS IS BIG!
Zoeken in deze blog
PAINTINGS BY EMMY VERSCHOOR
Zijn het pluimen of bladeren die ontsnappen uit je binnenste hartkamer of is het de gloed van de kleur van kloppend bloed hunkerend naar de stilte van rimpelloos Water?
Als haar handen vloeibaar worden krijgt de piano vleugels op het doek Een boom verbijt haar vergezicht In de diepte luisteren wortels verrukt naar de zachte braille van haar bestaan Tuinen hangen van de wolken omlaag, omhoog groeien vreemde bloemen uit een ingebeelde notenbalk.
Guido Vermeulen 14 november 2011
Muziek bij de video: Claude Debussy
zaterdag 12 mei 2012
Cascade of dreams ending in a Dutch poem
More dreams from last night, cascade ones, so no inner relations unless
you are a psycho-analyst:
I want to know where my cats are and arrive in a strange garden. A
small white bear is sitting there on the shoulder of a giant lady.
She is breathtaking, has large black hair ands wears a bright black
dress. I look to the bear who is quite happy and tells me he is on
her shoulder because it highlightens its white fur!
no signs of my kittens. A flock of movement appears in the sky, I try
to focus on them and understand it is a flock of birds, a flock of
pelicans even, but when I focus even more my view they are not
photographic but cartoon drawn with an abundance of colors that
blinds my eye sight! I am living inside a comic story I think
disgusted and try to leave on the spot!
I decide to return back from this strange garden. I walk into even
stranger halls of what seems to be a very narrow factory
construction. First I meet what looks to me like slave workers, they
ignore me because they are quite scared and avoid any possible eye
contact. Second room is a filled with laborants in white coats, they
experiment with whatever is available in the room and are quite angry
with my presence: I am an unwelcome intruder! Some of these assholes
I recognize from former job situations and I run away as quick as I
can, disgusted by seeing them again!
all these cancers have not died of awful cancers goes thru my head
and I am regretting this reflection on the spot!
and final room is full of naked workers coming from the showers, men
and women mixed, they all have doom and gloom in their eyes, look to
me as if I do not really exist. They are all incredibly ugly,
hair growing from every part of their bodies, even the femail ones!
They all look terribly angry and unhappy, almost ready to committ
rape and murder at any second! DO not stay here, a woman shouts, this is not your
crowd! Get OUT, pleaasse, get OUT !!!
I try to escape from this nonsense factory and come into an open
field when I break a door without any pain or bloodshed. I check my
own body in awe!
I close my eyes and try to see colors to escape the past nightmare.
labour manifesto text I cannot read is projected before my eyes:
first 5 statements are in black: the next 5 one are in white but the
10 sentences are all on the same blue background. I have no clue what
this is about BUT breakthru!
So it is possible to dream in colors I reflect and then an abundance
of strange and even stranger images shoot before my eyes in all the
colors of the rainbow.
do not bother much because after all I still have not found my
kittens! And a man has to do what a man has to do, it is all a
question of priorities or not?
The most simple things in life are often the most complex, goes thru
my head; it is the start of a complete poem based on what Mike Dyar
labeled or recognized as cognitive memory!
I wake up I remember every sentence and write it down but in a
reverse order; starting from the final phrase to first one, but it is
all in Dutch.
makes me think: Okay, I can dream in colors now but still not in
different tongues, so I still have a long way to go!
kitten licks my feet, the other one nestled himself in my upper arms,
close to my face, almost suffocating me! I can hardly breathe, so
this probably caused this dream cascade, thanks a lot Buzzy!!!
UP CALL voor Simonne
simpele dingen des levens
wellicht de meest complexe;
geboorte van een luchtbel,
nerven in het blad van een boom,
insect in je vinger die me aanraakt,
vogel die ik hoor zingen in je onderbuik,
ingedommelde traan in een ontwakende oceaan,
slapende kater op een schilderstafel in een kelder te Brussel,
mijn slapeloze herinnering aan waar jij sliep.
wakker worden met het geheugen
dit gedicht op mijn versteende lippen.
onmiddellijke neerschrijven of al goed alsof
Buzz probeert te spelen met mijn pen.
of this story has been invented, cross my heart and hope to die!