Allow me to find somewhere that I may tremble in peace.

Antonin Artaud

As long as humankind recklessly proceeds in the fateful delusion of being biologically fated for triumph, nothing essential will change.

Peter Wessel Zapffe

toward an ars poetica (ii)

neither wait
nor expectation
rather vigilance

toward an ars poetica (i)

words fluttering
against the glass

toward a definition of beauty (iii)

no birds crumpled
tissue floating
in the toilet

toward a definition of beauty (ii)

the moon
is never

corners (ii)

does not
need to

corners (i)

almost forgotten
corners attest
that space too
can be humble



fallen in a heap
words as useless
as any other
desire its form
shadow vanished
in the sun


for s.p.

we are…

we are the blind eye
by which the world
sees itself

seeking light

seeking light
the surrounding dark
does not embrace
but cedes to itself
finding refuge within

the centre

some proclaim
that they are
the centre

while unaware
of its place
the centre itself
never says a word


for r.d.s.

The body isn’t a thing, it’s a situation; it’s our grasp on the world and our sketch of our project.

Simone de Beauvoir.

toward a definition of beauty

a snowflake

free of even the slightest breeze

will still not fall straight

In the encounter itself there is nothing perdurable. It bears the mark of transience in its essence. But its nucleus is the occurrence of mutual awareness. Its goal is [to take] the step from awareness to recognition.

Carl Zuckmayer, The Long Roads
tr.  Douglas Robertson


buried under the snow
an old tennis ball

and somewhere
buried the jaw
which grasped it

buried deep
what was once joy

Truth is indivisible…it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.

Franz Kafka

Only if we are truly humble is the scent awakened for what is great, and only if this occurs do we become capable of wonder.

Heidegger, Aristotle’s Metaphysics

The only external reality that matters is the misery of the human condition. 

John Calder, The Philosophy of Samuel Beckett, pg. 32

Had I not known
that I was dead already
I would have mourned
my loss of life.

Ota Dokan (1432-1486)