Solidarity Texts

From 'Rock | Salt | Stone'

sometimes you just get tired

carrying all the things in your hands

all the people on your back and

you stumble

keep going

you cannot fall you

cannot             cannot

Bill — a document sealed — as in a sign or small picture — to lend authority, credence — to

make official what are — rights — ruled — what is proper fair and fitting — what was heretofore implied or inspired — to enumerate, ratify — to make real — to make the abstract concrete —

poetry, poems

I’m sure you exist but guess
Dump
*rump

steak 
  take it as it is, don’t
               as seen on REALNESS TV, oh yeah

I will not begin at this late day by doing what my soul abhors; sugaring men … with flattery to retain them as escorts or to gratify a revenge. — Ida B. Wells, May 4, 1884

After Browne

The original is unfaithful to the translation. — Jorge Luis Borges

1. go to sledgemaster’s

2. figure out how to move the sludge

3. redeem the sludge

4. keep the sludge from moving forward

5. because what I am pleading for

Flood the world with beauty.

Flood the world with love.

All forms of beauty are necessary.

Any expression of love is required.

If you think you can’t do anything

just do something.

Are you a good bed-maker?

Are you a great cake-baker?

Try, in your fatalistic dim, to remember: not every doll interrogates every inch of hell’s rosy air. Try to see through your own relentless queering of the heavy jalousie: to proceed unpremeditatedly begs penance only occasionally. Know you don’t need anything to get you going. Know you need a distraction from your doing. He says you can’t cure your depression by laughing at it. I say you’re telling me, lipstick on ever-visible teeth.

Text and translation into English by Mette Moestrup.
Beats and composition by Miriam Karpantschof.
Video by Kasja Gullberg.

More info can be found here, and below:

To crack each of your doll faces

suck the sawdust out and chew into it real spit

is the madness of creation

the eye of a god

its eye rolls back in its god head then forward again to sight anyone at anytime

that was your mother sucked empty by what seemed to be only sunlight

Translated from the Arabic by Maged Zaher

The run over

I avoid shortcuts to home

To prolong the distance between me and the end of the night

Walking is entertainment that passes time and hosts it

And all the looks that reached my eyes in the daytime,

Sending nothing but void,