tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923Tue, 24 Nov 2009 07:13:36 +0000Fictions 3 Plateau 1999 and and and and...cut along your line of flight ... not fight...the schizoanalytic body in .... discontinues from other fiction sssssszzzzzzzzz schizo-analytic =P_rose poetryhttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)Blogger230125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-9036088725836926818Mon, 23 Nov 2009 19:58:00 +00002009-11-24T02:13:36.772-05:00Them that's so important. Can't keep a clandestine face. And hidden in their delirious regimenting need the smallest pretending it's the larger scope of its determination . And so tacking along becomes like that. Wished for leap. Not quite the night of 74 was it? She wept to hear the uncontrollable sighs the tears of. Not the police but the bashing heads. Was it this way the circus came to an endhttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/infinitely-tall.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Clifford Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-7361913420157418997Mon, 23 Nov 2009 00:00:00 +00002009-11-23T14:32:26.786-05:00 This way the moon works. Cries crime! moon ! sun! war! the Illiad and its boots . That 'tramping on the counterpane' and outside the grimy .. . mist .. comes along a hair's breadth close to truth. Plato didn't dig that with his spade and mathematical genius nor did the stranger bastard Parmenides the square flat of being. Unmoving and close to the rocket lick the totem pole the ricocheting lovehttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/choose.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Clifford Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-3694763745129277756Sat, 21 Nov 2009 18:30:00 +00002009-11-22T23:07:38.415-05:00 That might be Vico and his bicycle rounding the range . if not then why not the alleyway of sunlight dappling . This wasn't the place was it now? She might be on you boyo over the path near the plinth. Its reckoning come sung home. At Calais the forts are nothing left. In Ireland the hoboes are left to rustle leaves pack jackets and ring the tinkers bell. Applause apple sauce and the http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/come-around-again.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-1500257384543097445Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:33:00 +00002009-11-20T16:36:43.137-05:00Turn up the tune Oedipus your bucket's boshed .Mashed between four teeth eight gods, nuns and toothsome side winning. Table turning its spin goes quicker as fast lightening peeving out the god of taste and waiting on table after table according to the choice allegory of its ovulation. Ovum to ring its treasured sweet on!This babe's got her arse on backwards. We'd wave if we could, but darning http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/turn-up-tune-oedipus-your-buckets.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-5052654594334353896Thu, 19 Nov 2009 21:11:00 +00002009-11-20T16:20:41.566-05:00Frightened of the day Jill calls her pattern. Catatonia kata _ and katabasis the rumbling round the swinging sward. The swan and at the dark end of the far square is that a ricocheting thing... hunkered down stars falling round ... its lime and lemon and the twinge of gods backed up ... terrorized by gods ...Heartily we've deconceived their seed . But down by the river grace's has its http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/of.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-4781564104349459139Thu, 19 Nov 2009 01:00:00 +00002009-11-19T15:44:32.903-05:00____________Gelid might be horses yet not the wooden sun . Come along now ~ we're headed to the smoke room. Wreathed in cloud of idea, and elbows here arms there, heads, over, arms akimbo, the bowl turned over, the camera clicking or the sound and the tape and its there a spot slip on the floor oh its costly no its not its she her breath and breast and this one o her and he there the favoured? http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/gelid.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-9086546022471775145Tue, 17 Nov 2009 16:00:00 +00002009-11-19T15:38:44.932-05:00______Trial by error remanding Mona.. Her chair's poetry is chalk and chiaroscuro . This way a teaching's been revved by her commands. And the lust beat down. Not so the mumbling but better this way than removed by force, and edified by bring to and going home she knew her breath sluicing through her . Out to in to out and her girl her double nape and the reverent secret kiss._______________http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/trial-by-error.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-7600910112685937204Mon, 16 Nov 2009 22:15:00 +00002009-11-19T15:33:23.902-05:00_____________________In this lake she reached a caterer the cutting thing underfoot, was something as a song was flumed to its bearable note . Then up it went reaching the sky grounded round a firmament of paste and sky. No one stirred its belt nor the infinite quality of its marriage. This way its heard round the earth the one two one to reach preach its pleasure the beauty of its mare Has http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/lake.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-2462550677754668128Sun, 15 Nov 2009 21:40:00 +00002009-11-19T15:29:02.866-05:00________________Infinitely receding in the dark shrinking Spinoza prince of the tear. Clock of the weening word heard its bearable fate, the shrank duck and breaking wave. Not overthe spume but the funnel of cellos.Jill measuring the beat_________________________________http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/infinitely-receding.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-8851855214660557727Sat, 14 Nov 2009 21:45:00 +00002009-11-19T15:24:45.703-05:00-----------------------Chains had a way. Of talking Shackles bore their weight and the magazine heard the ringing. Mona felt a sun penetrate the rocket weave whirl its summer back buttering the pair of wheat, the refted stalk the keen chair the sudden felt of its church city of nowhere and the throng and the bust the head sharing its complete gentle hour . Thither the Jill and Mona bore http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/return-and-fern.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-4660252014597876125Fri, 13 Nov 2009 20:30:00 +00002009-11-18T02:21:30.953-05:00Carapace is like having a face. No face. the face in the wood, in the fur, in the seething giant of the poorest makes for descriptive desperate airs, and like a clematis twines round its fender . and the mark has no space. but eatsMona ties the shoe round the lace that bends the leg wishing for nothing but an unconscious preceding itself.But eateries are not dining rooms and salon is not a http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/but-eats.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-1399236686903586388Fri, 13 Nov 2009 04:50:00 +00002009-11-18T02:18:48.172-05:00 She goes blank blank up against the wall its furring falling... if the turret pouts and the rain clambers down the chimney will it henceforward be the becoming of trees? Can syntax fuss its rubbing tube down the corridor of time?Every face's mirror knows this way, its grappling and praising .http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-kempt-pair-of-hook.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-2887045678585826242Wed, 11 Nov 2009 19:00:00 +00002009-11-11T14:00:02.491-05:00She hear it the circle's circumference, the real Jesus buttercup ontology and the 5 amendment proof of her sexistence . At the living room, couch and armchair wrapped in paltry plastic, she's heard the choir chiming the bells on the balcony, and knowing her daddy is there, shes running the water. If she's lucky it's because she heads south leads a charmed life and reads the right books not thehttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-river-wont-meet.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Clifford Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-3656972172478389000Wed, 11 Nov 2009 15:45:00 +00002009-11-11T10:45:00.806-05:00Take back your wall Mona, the trees are blowing. Over the side stepping and sidereal space she canters a little like her mother. The godless. Fret. And bowing cape. Not an understudy or a butler but a maid with the dirty things they're supposed to wear. To cartograph her appetite. She's a big fat smile in the reckoning of the world, and its pod http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/take-back-your-wall-mona.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Clifford Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-2050237886373036032Tue, 10 Nov 2009 06:38:00 +00002009-11-11T01:42:00.840-05:00Aye aye My captain this bliss's is listed. Her whore pan tray's got her good nowhere and nowhere. First between then before before between she's before and the giving. And then she see her before before her after he before and between she's after. She's after by offering the thing her thing.Star forward. Let's huddle skip backward.Scoping the bridge, the ism things come. It's come to their round.http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/okay-my-dear.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Clifford Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-2680943002891848955Mon, 09 Nov 2009 15:30:00 +00002009-11-09T15:51:05.733-05:00They're jabbering about a wall| I was at the wall. It was better Up. Better far better. but Worse. Worse when Up. Worse when DoWn. Down Wall. Up Wall. yr wall is here and now. yr wallsome. wall-eyed Sartre my deterritorializing realizing self.Its good it came over. Jill went by. Jill wentbyebyeand by and by. But it was tourist. Now seen some other to caress her moon. its high moon and rathers http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/wall-for-any-other-one.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-8243366623860485564Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:45:00 +00002009-11-09T00:42:40.839-05:00You hyena hear the body cry. It's revoked by its decisions. It's the jest counting the pronghorn... off it goes... mountain dust, hill rain and .... Jill marries the forest scope carrying her weigh a limbering lumbering truck. This route she has not an other thing to remainder her rose is flue and pirated with humble shoots. Devil grass and hankies, and sneezy things, work her lather into a sap,http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/nose.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-6626937192539356758Sat, 07 Nov 2009 20:30:00 +00002009-11-08T02:04:50.592-05:00Mona is a communist. A red, indeed, she's red in her head, and red in bedand red in the morning at the dawn of histories.Her desire unlike that ofthe professorsof one ism or anotheris the pragmaticlove of its burningthe rich ship'sterritory spreading ever ready red round the rough smooth earth's full body ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/is.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-4675825073385149680Fri, 06 Nov 2009 21:00:00 +00002009-11-08T02:16:55.067-05:00The wished for hope the eternal return of the different the repeating petition of I change I am the same I am the different and yet I change ... it's an old Indian song, She think s it' sthe Hopi tune:I change I am the same____________ Are you living in arable land Mona? Moan is Abraham's dearest remoterelative an Irish poor hound, she's bucked her page with philosophical poetic high low and http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/wished-for-hope-spunk-like-true.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-144044266985600802Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:30:00 +00002009-11-07T01:36:35.670-05:00The retired thinker. The retried varia, scholia , and underlined note spiral notebook. One love affair, two combs, one set of spectacle. One bird, two bees in a glass, a cane, a stick, an amulet._________________Does the transcendent ego bear its gifts toward deathEgyptian style ______________________________________________As fictions go this reaches a limit. Is this say, the Outside , the Realhttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/retrired.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-3951981227669765326Thu, 05 Nov 2009 18:30:00 +00002009-11-06T15:34:53.349-05:00Ah voila and those were the days eh, the ramb.e the gamble and test, a whole continent in movement... restless to its edgs, ready to steam roll, stream over change the surface,fo things, and what happens, is she's bearing balls to the death god : Communism with a human face._____________________ well being a spy aint good for anyone, least of all poets and becomers. A face with a capitalist http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/conjecture-conjunct.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-267477447478209519Wed, 04 Nov 2009 21:30:00 +00002009-11-05T02:04:47.146-05:00in the end there 's no time there is no timeends in pieces||||||||||||||||||||| Box up your shoes, to entrain for love, your train carries weight.__________________ fragments of a communist intelligencer. Plucked up at the fine age of her verging brains, she's cover'd her emblem with the spillage of musemyself is the dear god of bogs.____________________________________ let's say it last time thehttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-time.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-6110444309624331302Tue, 03 Nov 2009 20:30:00 +00002009-11-03T23:45:01.987-05:00Jill's disabled from her thorn. Like a see disconnected from the whittled down hearing of wave. Not foam, nor spume but the high tide of the river as sometimes its nape starts to seize the glimpse of orient pearl and rustic flavours hurry their way and the one thing stopping the whole campaign begins abruptly rising .Stupid Descartians won't ever understand this gritted girl's lesbian n sexes, http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/disabled-bottin.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-7785592118762083970Tue, 03 Nov 2009 20:20:00 +00002009-11-05T01:57:37.359-05:00_________________________Dazed in Plateau: 1986, spies and bakeries. She was a true Communist believer. Holding her breath, in the midstof the rough contradiction between sleeping and spying:.of the proletariat a communist beach... 'rushing' in the wave.at the hotel . thousands command. Red Square, almost recruitment time: 1985 Jack & Jill in Moscow, o yes, and others the antipoverty workers, thehttp://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/dictawhat-mona-knew-and-didnt.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20111923.post-4398366560440454949Mon, 02 Nov 2009 21:31:00 +00002009-11-02T16:39:15.442-05:00A pirate is reading evolve love reveal. Explain show original is absolute fault. Man is unforeseeablity his ability to see cannot be seen. His see is sun, an d foresun its love original. The originals were giant s saith Vico but the wishbutt runs round the hide of deliverance_______________________________ Jill shirks at nothing. Her veil's the common drama the drachma of every salesman http://fictionsofdeleuzeandguattari3.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-evolve.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (C. Duffy)