Dust Archives.

Please find more information in the margins under F-Art traces of Yesterday.

DUST.-“ The story tellers have not realised that the sleeping beauty would have awoken covered in a thick layer of dust; nor have they envisaged the sinister spider’s webs that would have torn apart at the first movement of her red tresses. Meanwhile dismal sheets of dust constantly invade earthly habitations and uniformly defile them as if it were a matter of making attics and old rooms for the imminent occupation of the obsessions, phantoms, spectres that the decayed odour of dust nourishes and intoxicates…….one day or another, it is true, dust, supposing it persists, will probably begin to gain the upper hand over domestics, invading the immense ruins of abandoned buildings, deserted dockyards; and, at that distant epoch, nothing will remain to ward off night terrors, for lack of which we have become such great book-keepers” Encyc’Acephalica

Each packet of dust is accompanied by a futile attempt to be poetic .... each day when the floor has been swept i will read from a number of literary texts and let the words infuse and inspire me. I will plunder the words of great men like Yeats and Satre, and try to combine automacion with emotional drival.To view the poems and lines will not be possible , yet!

23.3.07

There seems to be less to sweep away these days

And ...then there seems to be these days......

And then there seems to be

Days i should have swept away.

25.3.07

Vodka bottle

Ash tray

Mould on the pizza crusts

Ah sweet morning greets me like a curse

Nothing is beautiful

Nothing is

And nothing’s worse.

                                                                   27.3.07

Save water

Stop crying

Or start collecting tears.........

because

 .......the hours drag there heals

                          ......and the minutes bring more fears,

                         They let themselves in at night.

                                 Last night i felt my heart beating

                                 extraordinarily fast

                                 I opened my eyes to the blackest room

                                 And prayed for it all to pass.

          But the room was so black that nothing nor it seemed to   be there.

                                 Just a shadowy critter sat square on the chair

        Then whatever it was it slid under the bed

           It is defiantly still there this morning, i hear it, and it’s breathy

                                 With words which wish me dead .  

02.04.07 Electricity is actually made up of   extremely           tiny particles called electrons, that you cannot see with the naked eye unless you have been drinking.

               October 16^th 2008

                Oh this dust gathers more days.

23.3.07

                                 Water the spider plant

Collect up your dust

Forget all your past loves

No time for dreams of.

I think love is dead

Forget warm flesh on flesh

Sentiments echo in an empty heart

And nobody’s there to hear.

 

 

 

Between un-being and being.
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage

T>S>Eliot Four Quartets

 

04.04.07

Or say that the end precedes the beginning,
And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now. Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden.

T>S>Eliot Four Quartets