Long live dada! Howl.
Mar. 10th, 2008 05:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yamamanamaModest chair people painted grey
who don't want to be anything
but chairs for others to sit in.
Cloud people giving birth to themselves.
Navel-less non-people who'd like to improve
and slowly slowly as if blind
grope their way toward a real human navel.
Hole people who are the straight
gate to the most progressive hell.
Hole people making a comb
but little honey.
Long thin thread people
of white unwritten thread
rolled on a spool
convenient to carry in your pocket.
People who have a feeling
that the stones will soon be ripe.
People of the opinion
that it makes no sense
to grow in addition to their two front legs
two legs behind
that even a single leg would do
to jump into the bottomless pit.
Minute people who when put on the wall
promptly turn into circles
cry cuckoo cuckoo
and show the time.
People who turn into bright suns after their death.
People like a sea
throwing dice with bouquets of flowers.
People who are mild egg moons.
People who get into a train
as an Arabic 1
and get out
as a Roman I.
People say to themselves:
Reproducing produce
whether umbrellas or potemkin spears
in Greek or Hebrew villages
makes you mad.
Better to hedge cold frontiers.
Better not to leave the peridrome.
all your life.
People who sneeze pebbles.
Centaur people half man half car.
Chatterbox people chattering about boxes.
People who can't develop a taste
for the primeval
but rather wrangle in this world
and in their noseless faces
daily brush and paint and lacquer
three abundant heraldic
stylized moustaches
one above another.
-Tristan Tzara
the iron eye will change to gold
the compasses have put flowers in our ear-drums
watch for the fabulous prayers sir
tropical
on the eiffel tower's violin and star chimes
the olives swell pac pac and will symmetrically crystalize
everywhere
lemon
the ten sou piece
Sundays have brilliantly fondled god dada dance
sharing the cereals
the rain
newspaper
slowly slowly
butterflies five yards long disintegrate like mirrors
like the flight of night rivers climbs with the fire
towards the milky way
the ways of light the hair of irregular rains
and the artificial summer-houses that fly age in your heart
when you think i see
morning
that screams
the cells dilate
bridges stretch and rise up in the air to scream
around magnetic poles the rays arrange themselves like
peacocks' feathers
boreal
and the waterfalls do you see? arrange themselves in their own light
at the north pole a huge peacock will slowly unfurl the sun
at the other pole will be the night of serpent-eating colours
slide yellow
the bells
nervous
to clear it up the reds will march
when I ask how
the deeps shout
lord my geometry
-Tristan Tzara
To burning questions, there are no wrong answers. Unless the burning question is "is so and so acting reasonable?" and your answer is yes. That is wrong. Unless so and so is actually being reasonable.
Burning question: If Dada was based on the notion that after the first world war, the world has ceased to make sense, why was the period after World War II marked by "a return to normalcy" rather than some kind of super-Dada? World War II definitely did not make sense. People should have known what kind of things racism would lead to, yet people continued to cling to the notion.
Burning Question #2: Why does nobody answer anything I ask? Maybe I'll ask Liz or Dana.
I will seek the answer to the question "is it possible to hate anything by Cocteau Twins"
who don't want to be anything
but chairs for others to sit in.
Cloud people giving birth to themselves.
Navel-less non-people who'd like to improve
and slowly slowly as if blind
grope their way toward a real human navel.
Hole people who are the straight
gate to the most progressive hell.
Hole people making a comb
but little honey.
Long thin thread people
of white unwritten thread
rolled on a spool
convenient to carry in your pocket.
People who have a feeling
that the stones will soon be ripe.
People of the opinion
that it makes no sense
to grow in addition to their two front legs
two legs behind
that even a single leg would do
to jump into the bottomless pit.
Minute people who when put on the wall
promptly turn into circles
cry cuckoo cuckoo
and show the time.
People who turn into bright suns after their death.
People like a sea
throwing dice with bouquets of flowers.
People who are mild egg moons.
People who get into a train
as an Arabic 1
and get out
as a Roman I.
People say to themselves:
Reproducing produce
whether umbrellas or potemkin spears
in Greek or Hebrew villages
makes you mad.
Better to hedge cold frontiers.
Better not to leave the peridrome.
all your life.
People who sneeze pebbles.
Centaur people half man half car.
Chatterbox people chattering about boxes.
People who can't develop a taste
for the primeval
but rather wrangle in this world
and in their noseless faces
daily brush and paint and lacquer
three abundant heraldic
stylized moustaches
one above another.
-Tristan Tzara
the iron eye will change to gold
the compasses have put flowers in our ear-drums
watch for the fabulous prayers sir
tropical
on the eiffel tower's violin and star chimes
the olives swell pac pac and will symmetrically crystalize
everywhere
lemon
the ten sou piece
Sundays have brilliantly fondled god dada dance
sharing the cereals
the rain
newspaper
slowly slowly
butterflies five yards long disintegrate like mirrors
like the flight of night rivers climbs with the fire
towards the milky way
the ways of light the hair of irregular rains
and the artificial summer-houses that fly age in your heart
when you think i see
morning
that screams
the cells dilate
bridges stretch and rise up in the air to scream
around magnetic poles the rays arrange themselves like
peacocks' feathers
boreal
and the waterfalls do you see? arrange themselves in their own light
at the north pole a huge peacock will slowly unfurl the sun
at the other pole will be the night of serpent-eating colours
slide yellow
the bells
nervous
to clear it up the reds will march
when I ask how
the deeps shout
lord my geometry
-Tristan Tzara
To burning questions, there are no wrong answers. Unless the burning question is "is so and so acting reasonable?" and your answer is yes. That is wrong. Unless so and so is actually being reasonable.
Burning question: If Dada was based on the notion that after the first world war, the world has ceased to make sense, why was the period after World War II marked by "a return to normalcy" rather than some kind of super-Dada? World War II definitely did not make sense. People should have known what kind of things racism would lead to, yet people continued to cling to the notion.
Burning Question #2: Why does nobody answer anything I ask? Maybe I'll ask Liz or Dana.
I will seek the answer to the question "is it possible to hate anything by Cocteau Twins"
