I was sure I saw the term necrophage being used in the New Scientist
for the material that's subsumed at that level, or the manner in which
a compost turns the matter into something else - in French,
necrophagist is an eater of dead flesh.
Roger
On Dec 31, 2007 8:30 AM, Janet Jackson <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> I'm inclined to agree about 'loam', it's become a garden-catalogue word. But
> what else? 'Earth' doesn't have the same connotations of richness and
> goodness for growing. 'Compost'? Nah.
>
> I liked these when you posted them some time ago Jon and still like them
> now.
>
> Janet
>
>
> On 30/12/2007, kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > good christ. these are amazing Jon. it's the kind of visual mesmerism
> > &/or deph-bombing that I always look for when I write, & only
> > sometimes find.
> >
> > 'Maria' is a real powerhouse; the agony of love, heh. the narcotic
> > orchid, I think, is my favourite image. the only word I'd like
> > 'seared' away is "loam", which has lost its grip.
> >
> > KS
> >
> > On 28/12/2007, Jon Corelis <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> > > To Elli
> > >
> > > The heat has stung the lizards numb, Elli,
> > > the white church scours itself with glare.
> > >
> > > Ecstatic mules devour the afternoon
> > > by the rusty fence where poppies smudge the sun like the blossoming
> > > wounds of Christ,
> > >
> > > and your arms gleam bright as dew on a dragonfly's wing, Elli.
> > >
> > > A god dreams on in the olive tree's angry womb,
> > > the balcony's shadow slices the street,
> > >
> > > and your body is sweet as a knife, Elli,
> > > your flesh is a casket of flowers.
> > >
> > > In the valley between your breasts I hear your heart pump molten stone.
> > >
> > > Enfold my breath in a rose of musk, Elli:
> > > in your black eyes I see my death, Elli.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Maria
> > >
> > > Maria I want your bitter mouth
> > > Maria I want your breasts of dank loam
> > > your breasts of sullen ripeness
> > > your breasts of childbirth
> > >
> > > Maria I want the narcotic orchid of your tongue
> > > I want your eyes of treason
> > > your eyes of attack
> > > your eyes of the moment of death
> > >
> > > Maria I want to be washed up shipwrecked on your shore
> > > I want to be buried in your blood
> > > I want the venom of your passion to sear my veins
> > >
> > > Maria I want to be a universe unborn kicking in your womb
> > >
> > >
> > > --
> > > ===================================
> > >
> > > Jon Corelis www.geocities.com/jgcorelis/
> > >
> > > ===================================
> > >
> >
>
>
>
> --
> Janet Jackson
> [log in to unmask]
> www.proximity.webhop.net
> www.myspace.com/poetjj
>
--
My Stuff: http://www.badstep.net/
"And we're slow to acknowledge the knots on the laces
heart it races"
Architecture in Helsinki
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