RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.
Showing posts with label Babel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Babel. Show all posts

Thursday, October 17

D1RTG0D N0NS3NS3 G1BB3R1SH...

dirtgod nonsense gibberish
curriculum vitae is
difficult to be complete
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Monday, February 18

SONG OF THE DAY: galahad in goosedown


[decided to take the ridiculous genius annotations to this song, then run them through google translate from english to persian, persian to welsh, welsh back to english, but I left the milo quotes intact; everything is ridiculous and robotic and full of shit but within this you can create nonsense gibberish in fact YOU MUST CREATE NONSENSE GIBBERISH to combat the cyborgian overwhelm of the human heart]

This line is related to his acceptance of the evil existentialism written in Paul Millo, he says: "Oh," to his life. As life is not really good and desirable, like sadness, Milli believes that his inherent suffering makes people paranoid or develops schizophrenia, where they change their reality.
It is also important to note that there is a disappointment, which can arise in many ways, but especially through the use of narcotics (as in the first line of the first verse), through dopaminergic paths. Scenophrenia is a prominent theory of the dopamine presumption that rejects defective or harmful dopamine responsible for schizophrenia. Therefore, although Millo claims claims for the state of the world and the existence of man, scientifically, there are also credible claims about the fact that resistance and schizophrenia are opposed - at least in the case of dopamine transfer.
The bridge refers to the song by Mylo Budlong Woods under the name Scallops Hotel, where he dies,
I thought, “Oh, well,” with regards to my entire life
Milo fans often tell him to inspire him to improve; Milo finds this very enthusiastic because he is known to talk about the meaningless life of his songs, as a Zen scientist, where he goes to Sisyphus: 
How he dazzled with bafflegabSisyphus surmounts the aggro crag
Silifos is an enthusiastic Greek figure condemned to rock boulders. When he reached the peak, the boulders reached the bottom of the hill, and Sisyphus had to repeat his deed. As a result, it is often seen as a tragic hero and a staggering embodiment of the creature. Silifos is more exposed to the deep philosophical vision of the Silifos legend. In this article, Camus believes that Sisyphus is the best example of a modern absurd man. That is, people lead the life that is basically meaningless. Milli recognizes this with her college's degree in philosophy, and uses the sphere to explain her feelings that her life is ashamed.
Slypism believes that one can only be sure of thinking. In his reflection, he developed by René Descartes and often leads to a monopoly situation. Milo is currently referring to inspiration from someone who cares for himself alone.

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Monday, October 1

R3TR4C1NG MY P4TH T0 TRY...

retracing my path to try
and find stack of index cards
ripe with nonsense gibberish
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Monday, July 31

freestyle sonnet #092: SHIP OF FOOLS CHARTING A DISCOURSE TO ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(how many ship of fools woodcuts would a woodcut cut if a woodcut could cut wood {& had read a lot of Kaczynski}?)

All words meaningless, pointless, unnecessary 
as artificial intelligence poisoned well 
meaning minds, Pavlov's bell meme-ing minds feel very 
confident in their content - scrolling people swell 

with manufactured buzzwords and concepts until 
they regurgitate nutritionless info like 
pre-programmed egg (perhaps so) hoping to instill 
uniform unicode universe third eye reich. 

Buzzbots swarming... buzzbots swarming... speaking in tongues 
sensibles can't understand, denying raw power 
of fire, pretending progressive air fills their lungs 
(right and left), steady building digital tower 

of babble, dysfunctional discourse multiplied 
googol times by timelines refreshed (real shit denied). 
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Friday, January 13

at the crossroads of gothic
futurism and same ol'
traditional gibberish
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Wednesday, December 21

freestyle sonnet #064: FIFTH-DIMENSIONAL NONSENSE GIBBERISH SONNET

Fifth-dimensional songbird mentions in deep space
of eternal torso - internal damage kept
minimal, then minimized further as I chase
lack of *I*; these barely concealed symmetries swept

 same ol' same ol' down psychic rabbitholes - tired souls
grab at fragmented wholes and consider it as real;
I don't pretend to know shit, just jabber through holes
in routine where unconscious non-senses reveal

 rawness beyond intellect's microscopic yokes;
astro-logic chokes on that back of brain *self*-doubt,
crash back to *MOAR!* civilized, non-serious jokes
to cover up innate dissatisfaction bout

 of depressions. Third-dimensional distractions
designed to deny fifth-dimensional actions.

 rarely mentioned patreon of dirtgod
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Saturday, November 26

TOP TEN DIGITAL COLONIZERS OFFERING SALVATION OF TECHLORD


#1: t3chn0-sc4p1sm/sl33p3r c3ll 4ct1v4t10n/sm4rtph0n3 g4z3 Vhh-w4r3
#2: n0n-b1n4rY c0d3z/sp0k3 t0 r3m41n w0k3 d3sp1t3/g4z3 bVzz 4w4yz d4(yz/z3)
#3: "1nn0v4t3 f4st3r"/3y3 s33n3d 0n s0m3 dVd3'z t-sh1rt/th1nk1ng "wtf?"
#4: f1v3-b4r d1sc0nn3ct/s4nct1m0n10Vs n4tVr3/"s0?"c14l m3nd1c4nt
#5: 0n3 0h 0n3 0n3 0h/0h 0n3 3ndl3ss p4r4d3 str34m/z3r0 c0nsc10Vsn3ss
#6: d0n't m34n t0 s0Vnd l1k3/"g3t 0ff mY l4wn" glYph0s4t3/4rt1f1c3 gr33n gr4ss
#7: n0th1ng 1s r34l n0/m0r3 d3-r4ng3d cVltVr3d z3r0/0n3 r34l1t13z
#8: wh4t3v3r th0Vgh brVh/mVlt1pl3 v3rs10nz l00s3 str1ng/r34l w0rldz v4rY pVll
#9: st1ll th0Vgh sc4nn1ng *fr33*/dYst0p14n t3chn0-sc4p3/l3ft w1th 3mpt1n3ss
#10: "l0st 1n 3mpt1n3ss"/h34rt sVtr4 sVpr3m3 m4th h3lps/c4l1br4t3 d1rtg0d
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Thursday, November 17

freestyle sonnet #058: GUN BHRIGH FITHEACH

Posh merging of peshmerga paraphernalia
into gentrified internet weird twit daydream
thought stream, living real as iggy azalea
quantum twerk; silicone valleys bank mountain stream

 into animated meme; cut-and-paste yakubs
claim creative lotus, is just honda prelude
to turkish cafes sans Allah - I(n)R(eal)L(ife) noobs
navigating globalist position accrued

 one other(ed) stifled then absorbed culture a time.
Melting pots sterilize raw cultures, I'm looking
to re-feralize, de-colonize, unfuck "I'm".
Tha mi Fhithich, step to primordial cooking.

 Return to what's no longer remembered, much less
curated online. Tha mi Fhithich (fucking mess).
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Tuesday, November 15

freestyle sonnet #056: MOUNTAINS REMAIN EARTH'S ANTHROPOMORPHIC MIDDLE FINGERS

Mountain temples preach resistance, can't cultivate
away poisonous touch of man's chemical brain
feeling scientific ordainment to make great
this Earth, seen as clay to be shaped (or stripped), vast plane

 of grounded existence. Where are all the mystics
teaching starshine soliloquies from planet rock
hearts, with wild wonderful guerrilla linguistics,
spoken tongues false profits can't understand? Gridlock

 of interstated nation shinefaced masters planned,
manifesting god-blessed destiny outlooks still
support (even if science is now god). Shared land
becomes plots, owned and controlled, except nature's will

 always triumphs. Always. We too could be a part
if we began calculating more oft with heart.
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Thursday, August 18

dilapidated dwellings
for compartmentalized acts
of scattered self expressions
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Wednesday, February 10

TOP TEN TOWER OF BABEL TWISTS OF TONGUE











#1: google alphabet/babel tower unicode/generated wealth
#2: silicon fake tit/valley trickle down rev new/stream start-up abstract
#3: apple-a-day first/world tablet technology/african coltan
#4: conflict minerals/colonial vitamins/new world repurposed
#5: diversifying/whiteness is whiteness working/assimilation
#6: smartphone genetics/fragmenting psychology/but whatevs thumbs up
#7: integrate zeros/and ones through mainstream into/arteries and veins
#8: scrolling my pwned brain/all thoughts clouded, lifetime for/download of archive
#9: heartware malfunctions/commonplace due to data/programming virus
#10: shout out to cyborgs/fight lizard people syndrome/with fire - deep earth fire
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Wednesday, February 3

2016 Royal Poetry Rumble: Number Seven Direct


We have begun our third week of this Royal Poetry Rumble, and half our field of 30 has already been knocked out in the following order:
#30: Lucie Brock-Broido (eliminated by Angie Estes)
#29: Terrance Hayes (eliminated by Laura Kasischke)
#28: Marilyn Hacker (eliminated by Alan Shapiro)
#27: Alan Shapiro (eliminated by Nathaniel Mackey)
#26: Ross Gay (eliminated by Marie Ponsot)
#25: Lawrence Raab (eliminated by Juan Felipe Herrera)
#24: Angie Estes (eliminated by Amy Gerstler)
#23: Ada Limon (eliminated by Dennis O’Driscoll)
#22: Rowan Ricardo Phillips (eliminated by Laura Kasischke)
#21: A. Van Jordan (eliminated by Emily Fragos)
#20: Kevin Young (eliminated by Laura Kasischke)
#19: Dennis O’Driscoll (eliminated by Joy Harjo)
#18: Marie Ponsot (eliminated by Juan Felipe Herrera)
#17: Nathaniel Mackey (eliminated by Alice Notley)
#16: Claudia Rankine (eliminated by Arthur Sze)
#15: Juan Felipe Herrera (eliminated by Joy Harjo)
#14: Jane Hirshfield (eliminated by Robin Coste Lewis)
#13: Amy Gerstler (eliminated by Laura Kasischke)

I will save whatever nonsense rambling for the actual head to head battles for the most part, but it did strike me as odd that of the six names not yet drawn to do some battling, five of them are men and the other has initials as a first name which is likely a man because lolol what woman would do that weird shit? So I want to clarify that the randomization of names is done by an excel function, not by me or the kvlt scholar, and neither of us are all that interested in upholding an age-old oppressive patriarchy. But who knows, excel is made by a big fat corporate demon overlord, so perhaps it is still upholding the patriarchy despite me and the kvlt scholar’s best intentions. Perhaps instead of calling out everybody on a small individual basis, maybe the best thing to do is just smash and burn all this shit to the ground and start over. But I have digressed, before we’ve even progressed at all (which is very manly of me)…

#12: Laura Kasischke (represented by “Two Men & a Truck") vs. W.S. DiPiero (repped by “Chicago and December”)

Kasischke has already eliminated four other poets, AND HERE SHE IS DRAWN FIRST FOR TODAY. WHO WILL STOP THIS LINGUISTICAL SUPERKICKING POETTESS  WARRIOR? She is drawn against the initial dude, W.S. DiPiero, who is part of our vast field of people due to being the Ruth Lilley super duper award winner back in 2012. That’s an awful bad side of poetry-sounding name there, W.S. DiPiero.
Kasischke’s poem is Two Men & a Truck, and being she’s won so many match-ups, I actually looked her up, and she is a professor of the poesy at Michigan (which has an esteemed MFA program, no doubt). Her poem is about motherhood, and I would say if you were to give me poems about motherhood, in all likelihood (due to me being a man, and perhaps culturally privileged with the inherent and inherited comfort of the patriarchy), I’d probably like less than 7 of them. But again, Kasischke just does not fuck around. She does it, this thing called poetry.
Let me make an aside, as we are using the parallel of the professional wrestling Royal Rumble as foundation for this nonsense. In the professional wrestling, there are “hardcore” fans who tend to like the wilder, more obscure shit. Perhaps they limit themselves to older things found under all the online rocks you can turn over (if you know how), or perhaps they like today things that are beyond the mainstream, buried in small towns and strip malls and perhaps truer to the raw spirit of what theatrical wrestling is. Or perhaps they are drawn to a foreign version of it. And certainly that parallel exists in poetry as well. I know I enjoy the more raw, more obscure, more outsider poets, both in the past and now (though they can be hard to find… if you know what rocks to turn over for that, let me know in the comments). And obviously if there’s an abundance of Kasischke poetry at a major website like the Poetry Foundation, and she’s an esteemed professor at big ass fancy MFA school like the University of Michigan, she is not underground and obscure, but a part of the mainstream (albeit a mainstream of a more obscure genre in terms of overall cultural mainstream). But even in the pro wrestling, there are those who make it to the mainstream stage, and somehow they still have that fucking It, despite being absorbed (assimilated?) into the mainstream. Kasischke has displayed that same It, indefinable and mysterious and completely unteachable, in this thing. And this poem about motherhood, about a little baby in her arms who ends up being a full-grown man, one of the two with the truck in the title, it’s a fucking thing of beauty.
Now with all that rambling gibberish about mainstream and underground, and with Born Into This on my Netflix queue for tomorrow (I still get DVDs in a mailbox, like a caveman), I was amped for some nasty free verse shit like that. And visually, DiPiero’s poem seems like it might want to creep that way itself. But I don’t know, it’s an open handed slap and I’m looking for a fist. Actually that probably describes well my disdain for a lot of what is called poetry, because it’s masturbatory and open handed and not dirty enough. I don’t mean talking about pussies and dicks and empty liquor bottles but dirty with thick stains from real life. DiPiero says:

Vague fatigued promise hangs 
in the low darkened sky

and it’s easy to imagine someone working over that, tinkering with a word here or there. That doesn’t make it anything better than weak open-handed drivel that has wasted one of the limited shards of my fucked up real life though. It’s bullshit. This whole poem is full of bullshit like that, but it’s done in the kayfabe ways of acceptable poetry. It does what mainstream poetry trains you to think is good, so if you are a fan of Poetry (capital p), then this is a fine poem. “Hahaha, how could you not like this fine poem, Raven Mack? Are you a sod? An uneducated Neanderthal? This is Poetry.”
Well, fuck that, and fuck you. I am not of that demographic and I can’t sit still, when I know how raw and wild the real shit, the back roads shit, the small town strip mall shit can get, to sit here in your fancy arena of Fine Poetry and watch this mainstream bullshit go through the accepted motions and expect me not to call it out for being pretentious bullshit. If Kasischke doesn’t win, I’ll be shocked.

THE KVLT SCHOLAR’S HANTEI: The fundamental insight of "Two Men & a Truck" is that you have a child and you are everything in their life and then their world gets bigger as they do and you immediately have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the tiny world you once inhabited exclusively and these thoughts and feelings I guess get going pretty intensely by the time they are like three let alone when they are old enough to do heavy lifting on your behalf; please note I do not describe this insight as basic but instead *fundamental* because it is about as real as it gets as far as being a human or indeed probably a non-human animal although they seem to Romanticize such things less (or so we would claim about their ways). This is a good poem on a subject I have a lot of time for like a *lot* of time for. "Chicago and December" is totally fine in a totally fine usual contemporary poetry way, like you read it and there are a couple of lines or images that are nice but there's nothing that is going to stick with you, probably, and it is not even really a diss to say that because poems are as you know very hard to do good ones of. I cannot help but think however that it is a pretty significant letdown when "the great stone lions outside / monumentally pissed" turns out to be an adjective and not a verb, like it would have been tremendous for stone lions to be pissing instead of being somehow upset "by jumbo wreaths and ribbons / municipal good cheer / yoked around their heads" which doesn't even really make sense because lions like Christmas.WINNER: "Two Men & a Truck"


LAURA KASISCHKE HAS NOW ELIMINATED FIVE PEOPLE IN THIS RIDICULOUS THING. She is obviously the greatest contemporary poet on the American Earth. (And that other poem was way shittier – click the link and see – but the kvlt scholar is the good cop here, and I am the bad one. Except I’m also corrupt. And not a cop. Neither is he. Fuck cops, even poetry cops. Especially poetry cops.
Also out at #12 is W.S. DiPiero.

#11: Robin Coste Lewis (repped by “Art & Craft”) vs. Mark Wunderlich (repped by “Prayer for a Birthday”)

I vaguely remember Robin Coste Lewis having a really great poem earlier, but like a real battle royal, at this point this shit is all starting to blur together into word fragments. Mark Wunderlich has not been in this thing as of yet and is here because he was a finalist for last year’s Kingsley Tuft Award, but is probably most famous for his test given to football players.
Lewis’s poem is sad as fuck. It’s poor kid sad, but in a way that doesn’t really talk about being poor. But I can see it.
Wunderlich’s poem is very much the same type of open handed bullshit I decried in the previous match. These random dude poets are lucky they were never drawn earlier in this thing, but fuck it’s really watered down the late Royal Poetry Rumble field.

The intricacies of your world astound me.   
You flickered through the rooms where my mother dwelt, 
when I was naked and formless as a seal…

The fuck outta here with that shit.

THE KVLT SCHOLAR’S HANTEI: "Art & Craft" is a sad little poem about deliberately avoiding being super good at school so as not to attract unwanted attention but it is also kind of a smug little poem making good and sure to tell us that the poet knew all of the answers at school and only got things wrong when s/he was working the results (or I guess s/he was taking a dive, rather than working, if we want to be particular about where such actions fall along the work/shoot spectrum, and we do). It is a sad, smug little poem but these are not contradictory facts and even if they were it could totally be both and we would just have to sort that out (by going "paradox? or dialectic?" and not knowing much about how either works). I reaaaallllllyyyy dislike "Prayer for a Birthday." I have no idea where this originally appeared or anything obviously but this kind of couplets-but-not-really-couplets with all kinds of shitty enjambments and just *imprecision* everywhere is what I associate with the absolute worst New Yorker poetry, like this stuff just kills me 
"You flickered through the rooms where my mother dwelt,when I was naked and formless as a seal, sensitive
to the tides of her body. I did not come too early onto land,did not emerge until my days were written
on the translucent pages of your enormous book."
woooooooooow I don't remember them all clearly enough to say this for sure but if this isn't my least-favourite one so far lol it is pretty closeWINNER: "Art & Craft"


This is all fair, in my opinion. Gone at #11 is Mark Wunderlich.

#10: Alice Notley (repped by “Poem 3”) vs. Arthur Sze (repped by “Morning Antlers”)

Man, I’m just not feeling this shit today. Such utter crap. And for our last match we have another woman vs. man, but at least this man has been present before (Arthur Sze) so I know he at least is not making his first appearance with a giant steaming pile of fetid pretentiousness.
Notley’s poem is a weird little rambler, and I like how it is repetitive in simplistic ways so it’s sort of like a freaked out stoner explaining frantically how they got lost on their way home, but without the negative connotations of straight stoner-ism. Notley’s poem suggests she is an experimentalist, but in normal looking ways. Those are the best experimental types, because they fuck you up when you’re not looking.
Sze’s poem is not experimental, and sure maybe this one is another example of predictable poetry, but he’s not so heavy with the open hand of it all. It has a nice rhythm, and though I’m not gonna flip out and go buy a couple Arthur Sze books off half.com, all things considered, in the framework of this contest, it’s not a bad poem at all. I’d lean towards Notley, but not with enough conviction to be mad about it not going that way.

THE KVLT SCHOLAR’S HANTEI: If "Poem 3" tries to impress us with its obscurity like it invented obscurity or something but it *didn't* whereas say what you will about "Morning Antlers" but it wants to say something about The Interconnectedness of All Things and wants to notice redwinged blackbirds and babies and antlers and trees.WINNER: "Morning Antlers"


Gone at #10 is Alice Notley. See, that’s quality judgment there, because though I leaned towards the other poem, if you explain to me that a thing is trying to make me notice redwinged blackbirds, I’m gonna be like, “oh, okay, I am pretty good with that.” Everybody should just write bird poetry, but not open handed weak ass bird poetry, but hard ass bird poetry. Mean vicious real life is painful as fuck but we are still going to have sex because the only hope at overcoming the painful as fuck nature of human life is to make children that somehow figure out all this dumb shit that we’ve kept screwing up. But with birds.
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Tuesday, January 5

faux concrete jesus stares down
at his faded purple cleats,
sizing up penalty kick
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Friday, October 16

TOP TEN BEZELS OF WISDOM BURIED IN TURTLE CLAWS



#1: stVdy1ng 4nc13nt/t3xtz wr1tt3n 1n l4ngV4g3z/m1nd d0n’t Vnd3rst4nd
#2: h34rt r3c0gn1z3 h34rt/h4t3rz g0nn4 h4t3 f0r r34l/bVt h34rt r3m41nz trVth
#3: 3t3rn4l j1h4d/w1th1n strVggl1ng h34rt sl0w-c00k3d/fr0m m0nk3yh34d b1rth
#4: sh4rd g30m3try/4tt3mptz m0s41c fr4ct4lz/w1th w4ck-4zz 4ngl1sh
#5: c4n’t r34d 0wn wr1t1ng/m0stly b3c4Vs3 d0n’t 3v3n/“0wn” 1t - jVst sh1tst0rm
#6: 1 r3m41n n0th1ng/m0r3 th4n d4t4 t0 d3v1lz - /d4t4 1z fr33d0m
#7: cr0wz c4w “1nsh4ll4h” - /4rm-l3g w1ll1ng 4rm-l3g-h34d/w1ll1ng, 1nsh4ll4h
#8: b3z3lz 0f w1sd0m/bVr13d w1th1n pl4n3t r0ckz/qu4rtz wh1t3 tr4sh l1k3 m3
#9: hVm4nz 4r3 w34kn3ss/w4ckn3ss 0f 3g0 d3s1r3z/p0llVt1ng 4ll 4ctz
#10: stVdy1ng 4nc13nt/t3xtz wr1tt3n by my 0wn h4ndz/wh1ch “1” n3v3r 0wn3d
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Wednesday, July 8

TOP TEN MOTIVATIONAL TATTOOS ON THE ROJONEKKU WFA GYM CHALKBOARD



#1: TH3 HVM4N SP1R1T/1S R3S1L13NT 4S FVCK/B3L13V1NG 1N SH1T
#2: B0RN 4S N4TVR4L/CR34TVR3Z M34NT T0 CH1LL W1TH TR33Z/& MVSHR00MZ & SH1T
#3: C0L0N1Z3RZ H4S/PL4NT3D FL4GZ - 4LL 0VR M1ND-H34D/B4S3 B3L0NGZ T0 TH3M
#4: CH4S1NG 4BSTR4CT10NZ/R3DVC3D T0 W41T1NG T0 T4P/VNVS3D P0T3NT14LZ
#5: M4RK3T C0RR3CT10NZ/0FF1C3 “S1RZ” 3NF0RC1NG RVL3Z/D0WNW4RD PYR4M1D
#6: VPW4RDLY M0B1L3/N3V3R ST4RT3D FR0M B0TT0M/TRV3 B0TT0MZ BVR13D
#7: TR33 0F L1B3RTY/R3FR3SH3D FR0M T1M3 T0 T1M3 W1TH/TH3 BL00D 0F TYR4NTZ
#8: BVBBL3Z 0N3 D4Y W1LL/BVRST Y3T W3 M4NVF4CTVR3/M0R3 BVBBL3Z W34KLY
#9: R41NB0W R3FL3CT10NZ/W1TH1N F1N4NC14L BVBBL3Z/FL04T1NG 0V3R H34DZ
#10: R34L M0TH3RFVCK3RZ/K1LL 0V3RL0RDZ THRV SVBTL3/W0RD F1GHT1NG 4RTZ F1STZ
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Thursday, May 14

TOP TEN STUDIES OF EMOTIONAL CONTAGION











#1: misinformed consent/obtained thru random checkbox/no one really checks
#2: this experiment/called “openly sharing” leads/to dark loneliness
#3: “am I alone/in this filtered box of self?”/wrestling with what’s real
#4: I do not pretend/to not pretend; digital/umbilical cords
#5: social media/tendrils creepy crawl in through/cracked identity
#6: sum of my data/triggers algorithm’s cold/feedback - a mirror
#7: I am this sidebar/I am this clickbait slide show/I am one zero
#8: elders spoke of end/times; what’s the finality/for endless scrolling?
#9: there’s no end to this/digital ripple’s spiral/deeper into heart
#10: in “the end” data/of self outlives actual/self; deactivate
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