Yves Tanguy
Marcus Williamson
Yves Tanguy
The worlds are breaking in my head
Blown by the brainless wind
That comes from afar
Swollen with dusk and dust
And hysterical rain
The fading cries of the light
Awaken the endless desert
Engrossed in its tropical slumber
Enclosed by the dead grey oceans
Enclasped by the arms of the night
The worlds are breaking in my head
Their fragments are crumbs of despair
The food of the solitary damned
Who await the gross tumult of turbulent
Days bringing change without end
The worlds are breaking in my head
The fuming future sleeps no more
For their seeds are beginning to grow
To creep and to cry midst the
Rocks of the deserts to come
Planetary seed
Sown by the grotesque wind
Whose head is so swollen with rumours
Whose hands are so urgent with tumours
Whose feet are so deep in the sand
by David Gascoyne
Kwigd144
john adams
You are that sun in your eye
you are a great yellow moon pie
eleven children singing a
string symphony of your
painted music.
Yves tanguy, you are
not that tan guy
at the candy house
making suckers for
people like me,
who seriously like to play
cards while listening to
Remote Control reruns
in the background of
their living rooms.
Yves Tanguy please
inform us of your intentions
impress us with more of your
bright paintings and blue
movements of a stranger
world. Yves, yes, really now,
seriously, who do you think
you are? Are we that naive?
Yves, do you think we
were born yesterday?
Yves, who should have
painted his coat-tails
white, white the color of doves.
And what would have been
your last wish?
(I am serious about
taking my ashes and
having them spread
out all along the sidewalks
of somewhere in France
where you very probably
secretly wrote a poem
about your mother doing
crochet with little snails
and wren)
Yves, what's with you,
why should we
give a flip about you,
or anyone else?
You were once human
just like us. We can
do your highwire
balancing act, just
give us time. Give
us, humanity, the
oppurtunity to show
you we can
do it.
Yves,
Evening
shadows as daylight
walks into your path,
so long old fellow,
memory of youth,
brighter day!
-- Paula Abdul
"Marcus Williamson" <mar...@myrealbox.com> wrote in message
news:e47spug2h8r7ee3vt...@4ax.com...
:
: Yves Tanguy
:
:
:
Dale Houstman
The world is brainless
in a fading
and endless tropics
whose slumber is encysted
in jellied oceans
where arms swim
through turbulent crumbs
and fumes and seeds and rocks
that creep
in seams of wind
with swollen heads
and hands in urgent sand
.....................................
Dale Houstman
Yves Tanguy
___________
>
The days bring rocks
without a desert ending in them
because stars are grey
cythera wrote:
> Yves Tanguy
> -----------------
>
> The days bring change without ending;
> rocks of the desert to come
> starseeds sown by the grey wind's dream
> root where the winds start to hum
Kwigd144
Me
Dale Houstman
Kwigd144 wrote:
> Yves Tanguy Vite Vite! Celtic Symbols and Shadows of Prevert! Ectoplasm by
> Me
That white stuff on your teddy bear ain't ectoplasm.
dmh
Kwigd144
DESTROY ALL THAT IS SURREALSIM! You are a DICK! You no nothing of Tanguy! If
I am such a Wanker, than tell me the meaning of Ectoplasm in Tanguy's work and
I will go away, That I can guarantee!
Dale Houstman
First off: I am certain cythera (since she does such things herself)
will understand that this is NOT an attack but part of the game. One
which you seem unable or unwilling to participate in. Your response was
the actual attack as it bore no relation to the ongoing process, and was
obviously meant (like your entire presence) only to inject your odious
self into the air in hopes of gagging everyone.
Tanguy I "no" very well. As to the "ectoplasm" as you call it: those are
biomorphic forms and - as their proliferation in later works attest to -
they represent the animate life in the midst of an otherwise mineral
world. You can often see them with connecting lines and other types of
"bridging" forms, which one could take to mean a form of non-human
communing. As such Yves paintings can be "read" as ambigious depictions
of energies and processes beyond mere human interpretation, and - like
all surrealist "art" - are made to prompt the imagination of Yves
primarily and others subsequently.
I didn't call you a WANKER, so I don't have to answer to it. I said you
were in an extreme desire posture vis a vis your teddy bear. Whether or
not you find this offensive is your problem.
And - once again - I don't care if you stay OR go away for two obvious
reasons: this group doesn't (in any manner) represent a necessary "home"
for me or any surrealist, so who is here or not here is not of great
import. Secondly, you are a screaming irrelevance with whom I engage or
not according to MY whim. Meanwhile you continue to respond to 100% of
my posts, and yet seem to be under the delusion that others are obsessed
with you. I find this amusing.
dmh
Kwigd144
elag
your lip smacking goodness too delicious to bear
Tangy Turkey Tamale you answer my dreams
seconds later you're no longer there.
Dale Houstman
Kwigd144 wrote:
> oooooooohhhhhhhhh lala!!!! Hahahahahahahaha!!!!!! Alt.Surrealism
Erudition packed in a meat tube and left out in the hot sun.
Kwigd144
the ink turns red! MALIMBO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Marcus Williamson
>OH PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As usual, an excess of punctuation, but nothing really said...
Kwigd144
Dale Houstman
...............
1.
The desert rocks ring
stars into the claws
2.
Hysteria is tropical
3.
Fragments of bread hair
amid turbulent fumes
and feet of blue seeds
cythera wrote:
> Yves Tanguy
> -----------------
>
> The deserts' rings have days in them:
> Stars' claws, dim and grey.
>
>
>
>
>
> Dale Houstman <dm...@citilink.com> wrote in message news:<3D9EE909...@citilink.com>...
Kwigd144
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaahahaahhahahahaahahaahahaahaahahahahaha
ahahah. Hey Dale, Was your Ex-wife Laura A Porker like you?
Hahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahaha!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Kwigd144
born
Morpheal
>
> OH PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Caroline says "no".
She won't tell you and she won't stop torturing you.
You will eventually become so accustomed to being tortured
that it will be torture when she stops torturing you. In fact
it will become as unbearable when she stops as it is when she
is torturing you. There is no escape... She knows how.
Don't you feel good that your pain is in competent hands and
that she is an infallible expert ?
R.