https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/user-176 en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 01:40:37 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7902-reflection-on-palermo https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7902-reflection-on-palermo That was my voice, there, in Palermo,crying out from the foot of the throne of the Gods,where Dante sat out his final years.He believed that the Jews would one daygo to Heaven. The glorious country of Italycould not fathom and spat upon that thought.They cast upon it ordeals of flame and ice,struck it with rods until the sky itself screamedthat Moses was heathen and Dante a crook. That was my voice, there, where I didnot speak of mother, did not speak of moments,of fleeting seconds or the brevity of years, insensitivity or ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Thu, 13 Mar 2008 17:02:33 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7902 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7902 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7902 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7689-something-remotely-having-to-do-with-resembling-or-functioning-like-a-drinking-fountain https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7689-something-remotely-having-to-do-with-resembling-or-functioning-like-a-drinking-fountain This, I suppose, is what we call the epiphany; a flash-bang grenade laid waiting until its slow uncoiling of an explosion. I have lived upon the backside of a whiplash. These boys and men sit strewn along a renovated corridor; they swap nickels and dimes and wisdom and wine – they know that there is no time like the present to ensure that a future without regrets will never come. I lay with them, but am not one with them; an outsider who comes around to play every once in a while: a negligible distraction. There is a resonance to their laughter. They speak with the same voice and body of experience, and they could never know what awaits them around that corner, unless, of course, we are talking about this corner, in which case, they all know what awaits them; namely, a drinking fountain. They want me to spit knowledge and truth like they know I can supply. They want answers when I offer only questions, and there is a metaphor (a simile, at least) in that drinking fountain, somewhere, but I’m not looking for it, so I will never find it. I guess there it is. This moment is lost to me forever. ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Wed, 18 Mar 2009 17:04:49 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7689 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7689 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7689 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7687-bug https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7687-bug Suppose that I am telling you the truth,for just one moment of our waking days. This is my poemand I give voice to it. That voice, however, is what follows me;a tick upon the fringes of my ear. It tickles meand whispers secrets there. Its steady tone is only mine to hear. For, somewhere, on the path from mind to page; my tickmeanders from my lobe to drink, cavort, or maybe seek moretender mates. Suppose that I am telling you the truth; that whatI love is also what I fear, and in my safest places I am ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Sun, 24 Feb 2008 23:55:47 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7687 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7687 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7687 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5669-the-intricacy-of-dehumanization https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5669-the-intricacy-of-dehumanization Every man-damned day, I wake to hear the voice that tells me that my bones will never break as though I have, within, another choice. The sky is hostile, while our wars are moist and saturated with the thirst we slake and every day, I hear the dog-damned voice that coils carefully about my throat and traps in me my every odd mistake, as though I have, within, another choice. Illumined tendrils weave a frosted coat to warm the humanless and seek to fake the tone of yet another god-damned voice. Uprooted clouds drift to the asymptote between the worlds of love and seething hate as though they have, within, another choice ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Tue, 28 Aug 2007 17:27:17 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5669 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5669 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5669 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5086-deus-ex-aequitas https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5086-deus-ex-aequitas The center sits amidst a pool of throbbing gold and seeks a freedom from the majesty around it clockwork gears define an era based upon selflessness –         unequivocal absence of the self and we are simple; never banal. Boring does not exist as pertaining to me and I am the most interesting person I will ever meet –             if I ever meet myself. The luster of a soul; can it be counted, weighed, put upon a scale?         Discretion is the better part of all things...                 except discretion. 1 And days later – I held it,             the thing that you love.         I held the thing that you crave     and I held it and I grinned         and I held the thing that you love         and I looked into your eyes.     I looked into your eyes, and the eyes         of the thing that you love     and I held it with solemn fingers     unforgiving solemn fingers     and I looked into your eyes     as I held it, and grinned. The wind did not change,     because the wind has no master;         no eyes to see that I held what you love;             that you love what I held –                     I grinned     and my teeth were perfect – perfectly perfecter         than your own and I held it,         I held that thing you love in my solemn fingertips,     and I ripped it apart – invaded every orifice and held it and held it in my indomitable control and ripped the thing you love apart with my solemn fingertips and grinned and I left myself in the thing you love and I invaded every orifice and I     ripped it apart and I held it.     I held it and left myself in it. And for a moment – you were me             and I was you             and we were one.             And we were one… 2 and this is my flesh – it will not scar – and this is my blood – it will not stain – and this is my mind – it knows you well – and this is my heart – you know it well –     and this is my divinity –     and this is my innocence –         and this is my God – he has no name but if there is justice, he will punish you –     and this is my truth. 3 I will find what has been lost,         and I will draw it like venom from the wound into my mouth and I will     look to the thing that I love –             that indomitable truth! –         that miraculous glory! –     and I will deliver to her what you once stole     and I will feed her antidotes         from a dazzling tongue and you will know –         you will know! That the thing you love – that thing                   I hold in                  my dreams – that thing you love is slowly dying;     that torture – that thing you love         can only fade before me     and I will hold it,                 and I will rip it apart;             whether or not you are watching for I am a painter – a splendorous artist     and the soul is my canvas – and that         thing that you love/thing that you hold             cannot scratch the surface             of my reality – of my truth –                 my unconquerable love! and this is my God -       and this is my center         and this is my center –             it has no name             except that she would give it. 4 And Jesu Christo gazed     with vibrant eyes upon those     who had trespassed and he stared         at you as no God         has stared at no man                 who had trespassed and if there is justice –         this is my truth – He weighed the luster of your soul     and stared and you and that thing you love     stared and counted your worth and if there is justice –         this is my center – And lo! Jesu Christo     hefted the crucifix, and weighed     your soul and counted your virtues     and saw your shamelessness – and somewhere –     that thing you love was slowly dying                 in the thing that I love and if!     if there is justice –         and if there is justice –     the Lord will never forgive you –         as I forgive you - and if there is justice – 5 the center nestles within me and quells             in me my raging tempest.     I am simple; never banal. The thing I love –             that terrifying grandeur! –         that divine absolution! –     does not exist pertaining to you         and so that thing you love –         that exquisite agony –                 has slowly died in my solemn fingers. And if there is justice –                     this is my God. ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Thu, 05 Jul 2007 05:05:16 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5037-with-regard-to-those-boys-unrefined https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5037-with-regard-to-those-boys-unrefined Some of you might know what I'm talking about Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Tue, 26 Jun 2007 22:40:39 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5037 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5037 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5037