Encounters of the 2nd Kind

4

September 7, 2014 by petrujviljoen

A collaborative poem between Wolfgang Guenther and myself. This stone has a history 200 million years old. The bottom bit is made of ossified seashells and sea creatures from ancient times. The top bit is literally sea sand that compacted and ossified.

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Encounters with strangers

speaking (in)- different tongues

proceeding, alongside …

parallel lines, in fact, does NOT

meet in the distance.

Not even

theoretically.

Optical illusions, mere

mirages dereflects the

thesis.

Not even if

one rolled one’s r’s.

  1. Lov & koltcha – jeh maan!
    (Patois of Jamaika).

    Stóri bilóng ples.
    (Pidgin English of Papua New Guinea).

    Ek verstaan…
    (Afrikaans.)

    Sensoj, sentoj, sencoj.
    (Esperanto.)

    Tek in front,
    bifor in front tek yuh.
    (Creole of Trinidad & Tobago.)

    Mach’ mich nicht an!
    (German.)

    Ma-n-éwen nek?
    (Tamashek.)

    Tafadhali umwite mtu 
    ambaye anafahamu Klingereza!
    (Swahili.)

    Jes, get me someone
    who speaks English!
    (English)

    I’m buggered if I’ll do that!
    (Australian slang.)

    Does not meet in the distance,
    right.
    But the dollars do…

    Eyes, ears, noze, tongue and fingers.

    They don’t care about the r’s,
    but for the ones behind them…

    The essence of all:
    Profits held
    substantially firm for two years.
    (Business English,
    current lingua franca.)

    I’m trying to get to Michigan?

    Beg juh ah lift, du…
    (Patois of Jamaika.)

    Park your butt! Park it!
    (American slang.)

    We all leave evidence

3.

before we disappear without a map

Uxolo utheni?

(Zulu – South African)

I said: what’s that about dozens

of dimes being worthless

in a Marxist economy

when half a bovine is worth its

weight in a real gold sundisk set in

formaldehyde, when you’re a hippy

trying to maintain perspective in

a diptych depending on

perception while reading la libro.

Uxolo utheni?

(Zulu – South African)

Hoekom Rol Afrikaners hulle Erre?

4.

The posology of  ready-made letters.

The logopedian of my choice.

Drilled to roll.

Deus ex volutus. Curruque volutus.

Perro en carro. Prablema?

Well-measured airflow, isn’t it, Robroy?

Front familiy leave gave.

Nothing of him grandfather.

Says mind able wife.

Soft through don’t mother.

Interest asleep father‘s low.

Children wanted for found.

Brother feacannot sure.

Aunt walking art following further.

Unrolling r’s in 2nd encounters.

Utinam redias tu papilio niger!

Hulle Erre…

5.

Rolling with The Timer

The life cycle of the butterfly

does not entail it overcoming its

condition. Once a swallowtail

always an insect. Symbol of

the Soul? Bah!

Robin, no relation to Red Riding

Hood … isn’t there?

Him, her, grandma –

all in the woods?

– and the wolf drags a lot

of baggage around. Someone

should redeem it.

Machinations of languague – an overdose.

Should we blame God for the detail?

Or the red-shift?

6.

Red shift over the years.

Obtuse buttock poetry.

Robin Red Riding Rood.

Stays with me

when butter flies by

& Rosetta keeps on landing…

Just another 2nd kind?

I instantly

decontextualized myself.

It actually was Cindy’s

Deer in Casein…

The middle always knows

its ids.

& I went ironing

with my sponsors…

As I said:

Red shift over the years…

 

7.

Cape of Good Hope

acorns bound about

redirected

Derry red deer

mandalas – an

oak grove, a

rolling stone round

the river bending light abound

found, centred.

You can have your milk

and paint

a penumbra; umber

lepidoptera set in amber

jewellery for sale

lapaside at Cindy’s,

there’s heart in her tea (pot)

aeons shifted – petroglyphs

deciphered

rose coloured spectacles

needed.

It’s the evening of the gods

selamathunzi

The Hoods will keep the

wolf at the door company.

8.

No kidding, fellow entomologists:

Pope Francis –

celebrating good hopes

on the upper deck of an A380:

a flying cape,

making contrails

for a better postfossil future.

10 km below:

Walking rolls at large –

there must be no parking

for bread (& water)…

Yet another far-reaching example of 

extremely meaningful sustainability.

It’s all Lame Deer,

no options.

 

9.

choosing this and not that

in the seeking – subjective lesson:

Vetkat Regopstaan Kruiper said:

Mooi Loop.

 

Tao.

 

The hapless Pope; entrapped

to a car parked, even now-

promoting capitalist materiality

called

Soul in Seoul

succeeding

a white cloaked bison of a prayer

in mid-air,

attest to levels of spirituality

the sacred & profane a

necessary duality.

The Sioux realised the chemistry

of The Hidden Third.

Teresa of Lisieux:

on transcending our condition:

attain sanctity in continual renunciation

in small matters in the small town of

Davidson.

‘n Boer maak ‘n plan!

 

10.

 The subs take obs as property.

The obs take subs as property.

 Looping in rhymes…

 As the sub- said to the ob-ject:

“Aren’t we both rather perfect?

In all logics painfully related,

even digitally toxicated.

Intensively like child & mother,

one cannot do without the other…”

 

Rhyming in loops…

To come.

11.

Orphans, barren mothers

in reality

denotes

the one without

is sociological othering

owning

marginalised in deed

over and above and in

negative spaces
An object, devoid

of meaning. Dehumanised

Does it still exist?

Adding value:

in debate – the subject

argued objectively

from varied points of departure

Transcending the question

There’s no winning

only working (together)

a humanist inference.

 

12.

 

departure of the 2nd kind:

– bothering subs

– othered obs.

paper & ballpoint pen

lie still in the paper bag

& a cow with a neck bell

looks from the outer side

smiling at passing futures

of causes & results –

the latter still being

revenge for the first…

Mama “Have AAA” sits next,

interinstilling locals & globals,

emphasising the normative simple.

sun

should be reason enough.

departure of the 2nd kind:

– othering subs

– bothered obs.

 

13.

this place this

time.

Walking on sea shells,

petrified,

literally.

distancing, extricating;

people are weird –

dynamics of owning

land, idea, soul

The Middle too convinced

of its id-

figuratively.

  • bothered obs
  • bothered subs

 

14.

 the literal 

the figurative’

FOR HIRE.

?

quantums & linearity.

the dimensions of

the postpost…

declaring desperate aesthetics.

not selling 

neither revoking itself…

while others keep on

mourning voraciously.

saving the falls.

I got up & took my 

minivan breadbasket…

to live the ablative.

 

15.

Inclusive life after

constructed, oh,

so reasoned, uniform,

argument.

Can’t live

with or without …

bargaining the communal,

soiled, ground.

Soul cloaked, heart embroidered

on a sleeve.

How much (more) is

possible?

 

16.

human(e) abduction.

oh as the

matrix of surprise.

interpretated tags & labels.

a very anthology

of consumer’s wants & needs.

oneness & plurality…

arguments of soul & soil –

be treatable!

the effects of a 2nd kind

are physical, at least.

5oo feet or less.

I noticed all the shorts

coming into existence…

17.

Consumed in process
resistance in the round
about appearance of a
status quo.
Oh. Those whom look
in the mirror – who’s
trick, who’s
treat
who’s fault is it all?
Assume this ground sacred.

18.

Keeping cool

in humanity’s pool,

there is nothing bad

in finally add

AN ULTRASHORT MANIFESTO

open to poietic plans,

vastly joining the giving trans

& meet & greet:“A PRESTO!

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4 thoughts on “Encounters of the 2nd Kind

  1. I have just discovered your blog and enjoy exploring it. This piece was a challenging reading (with the early morning coffee), but I really like that kind of challenge! So much to discover in your words.

    Like

    • Thanks for the visit! I’ve just recently started collaborative poetry and it’s a blast! I’ve never met Wolgang Gunther and this is our first ‘encounter’ so to speak. One gets to know another (stranger) rather well through collaborations like these.

      Like

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Artist Statement or rationale or why do I do what I do

petrujviljoen

petrujviljoen

I make art, I read a lot and I'm now trying to write as well. Otherwise I belong to a cat by the name of Charlie that drives me nuts sometimes and other times makes me melt with love for her.

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