Take no notice of my blow, it is only a try at furthering capacity for
practising the poetic craft you practice and from whom first i learnt the
real lessons of avant-garde composition and offerings as undertook in the
summer of 05, when ms murphy and me telepathically connected, and the proof
As/Is.

I have a 20 page document of prose-poem responses in the form of spontaneous
compositions created with the fizz that came when reading sheila's regular
pieces. She was clearly, in my mind at least, the stand-out star of As/Is
when i first joined there and got gassing with some poets who, whatever they
are and were when not rhyming, at least tried to be serious and crazee like
all the avant-garde minds who take po-biz seriously enough to be very very
good at it: the one or few gems standing our from the less effortless mental
patients (only kidding) who make up most in our lower case guild of the real
inheritors of po-mo making sure normalcy, being devoid of orginal thought
and boring a blithely disinterested audience because i'm worth it, what more
can one ask than to read one anothers' minds? 

Bravo! 

  ...fair the five years since last we sported in anruth and cli, during the
summer of a lullaby residing within 05 e:

<em>wholly-owned sub-strata 
quicksandalwood
a way through domiciles
and commisaries 
estate sales fathomed
as a last
endowed
resort</em.

 .. burst of pure poetic brilliance shelia: a lullaby within singing hoodoo
you've been imbibing sheila,

<em>impervious to latitude

now that our plain children
cease to mollify mundanity 
while we project
tissues of importance
that surround routine

listen to the Dutch elm
breeze shake childhood
from familiar breezes</em> ?

 ... poetry flows every more uniquely in its own emphatically e murphy note.
Always i've claimed to share a memorable bit of supernatural business with e
murphy, you sheila and (for me at least) a poetic phase of learning 'with'
you five summers back on As/Is, in that spontaneous summer long back and
forth in silence of psychic activity when we were doing what we did, two
forward-jammers jangling a scene back when As/Is was really in the space you
and i back when sheila e was all the way real, it's agreed, shared yields of
faith in poetry as a force for prayer and something bigger than ourselves
the race and species almost peaking, technological beings from the moment
the alarm goes of in the morning, to the last press of the cell light
wanding over a slim sheaf of spontaneous stuff we keep under our pillow at
night ...i dunno.

<em>for the heart
to mind the existential
looking seeming sounding
store of recollections</em>

 ...present now in lower case masks pre-casting vehicles we drove anytime in
on another blog, wove a spell between surely, a third balance in between
Beltaine and Lughansa, five revs back for the full quart of summer, a sport
defintiely on in Dublin and Phoenix, parked poetic positions to adduce from
patterns discerned in a response from co-artist competitors tryng to
telepathically beat our personal best, not crush the dream of any other, or
stop their flow unless a chance for poetry to occur, is where our
intervention may raise the real thing 

<em>when the look of
pavement holds heat
for the duration, and a side
of affection holds still,
holds true,
holds even water</em>

 ..drawn to only responding and bluff, the latest thing we'd written i
thought because you're a doer in some supernatural procedure and yr lingo
flowing wholly poetic is anruth gear overpowering as it flows, unceasingly
poetic persona and the intelligence you led one to when others in our guild
of lower case poets unfraid to show it, adhered to simple rules first learnt
from yr hand that proves over time, respect in a realm of peers defending
what will come here, is worn by us murphy, always a better sort of waffler i
thought, your kind who float above the rest of us, in absent minded bliss,
unaware nor caring for political connections, blurbing bores gawd knows e,
it was all about bettering ourselves and identifying the pulse, charge, rule
of light and energie of a human dynamic perhaps, sincere interaction,
cultural flux of some time-space string in the superpostion theory eleven
dimensions parallel and ongoing realities from the ever more invisible them
and us, me immediately aware of yr brilliance, and because the exit points
beyond three dimensional ken, unseen our subconsious and understanding in
effect, not the something we list in a mathmatical equation, until certainly
in the vim and wit of vigorous flight, from to and between all shades of
humanity, night-lit blossom in quote-mockery lullaby, twinkles queen proms
for us but not ours to posses fully on a night some mind-magic might happen
in mental telepathy connecting two sparks in space-suits, moving through
time and space into ..i dunno. 

10/10