surrealist poetry, surrealism, poetry, poet 9, poet of sound and image Kino, literature, revolution of the mind, map of the universe,

"As long as you have words for feelings, you won't understand a bloody thing." 9

The typical err of mankind trying too hard to understand everything.
The world he built for himself is as irrational as his core.

The door is on the roof that will not open to the outside.

The eye that monitors emotions catches the void stamp you feel instead of emotions
because adjectives pre-configure and reduce that beautiful irrational reality [as it is] to a superficial gimmick, gesture, a prick in your psyche to reap the word you know by a weak association.

Memory functions on the principle of repetition. What do you know about the notion of love?
Eavesdropping on every bugger around the corner, you hear the word 'love' uttered in vain for shoes to cars, tv programmes, bullshit.

You, my friend, are rolling beneath the avalanche of dehumanising cold detachment from the human origin.
That said I am nothing but a speck in that welter, I must be exactly the same way outside this metaphor.
Therefore, I am free to call you to gaze this pretty chaos.
You may never read this. But, the poet reads you all the time.


#92

Lives of other people that I pick up by reading, listening and watching when they were in the act of escaping their lives.
Time that enormous flapping cunt is plastered right in my face. But, I have escapades with her whenever I like.

revolution of the mind: communial revolt plain

Time to coalesce. 

You as a member of the eternal youth that passes through you!

I summon you to the only place where you are absolutely free: your mind. 

We need your potential to see, hear and speak of images, sounds and words that liberate 

We need you to think and be resilient to the threat of adult mediocrity

As long as you are a thinking individual, the yearning of expression wouldn’t leave you alone
 
You aren’t alone in the revolution of the mind, that you may have already sensed, that’s the only viable revolution. 
 
I expect you to enter inside your mind and resound with your unique potential.


revolutionblogshot400

REGISTER. POST. CREATE. SHARE. THE ENERGY. THE FERVOUR. THE WONT. THE DESIRE TO OVERCOME THE BLOCKS IN OUR WAY.
"Look, dad, how I destroy the fascist industries."

rock'n tomb

THE NEW VIDEO EPISODE OF THE WEB SERIES

ROCK'N TOMB
Rolling Stones don't gather moss
flogging their corpse.

Rolling Stones in 1968 by Jean Luc Godard vs. Rolling corpses in 2006 by Martin Scorcese.

What a circus.

WATCH ON KiNo TV.



9 vs. people

New episode airs! Subcribe to the video podcast on iTunes or watch it online at the KiNo TV.


Broadcasting a manipulative organ



www.kinopravda.net/tv

Creative Revolt internet TV programme starts!

Dear dearies, here is the new internet TV show from me. Please bookmark this http://www.kinomapoftheuniverse.com/tv to monitor the new episodes and join in the conversation - thanks to wordpress. Also the new content will be distributed via ITunes and several other aggressors! This is the dawning.

kinotv
click on the screen shot to go to the NEW TV CHANNEL from KiNo

"Created by the poet of sound and image KiNo, "Map of the Universe" is comprised of a newly completed album, a book and a future feature film.
Following on the successful "Map of the Universe Making of the Album Video podcast series", KiNo embarks on the manifestation of the concept presenting new episodes of creative revolt.
It is centered around the iconographic character "9" who discovers the ancient MAP OF THE UNIVERSE upon which the meaning of human life is illustrated.
This programme is produced by Kinetic Twin films, a division of Man Eating Seas, the poet's production company. The new series also feature material produced for the pilot programme NBC has commissioned KiNo to propose the network for a national t.v. series."


image, sound, word

myspaceheadline1myspaceheadliners3myspaceheadliners2smallmyspaceheadliners4

proverb by a surrealist

“Provoke the unexpected. Expect it” Robert Bresson

MAN EATING SEAS RELEASES KiNo MAP OF THE UNIVERSE

itunes-ad3_coveritunes-ad3

ONLY AVAILABLE THROUGH ITUNES, EMUSIC AND SPECIAL HANDMADE BOXSETS THROUGH THE KINO MAP OF THE UNIVERSE.

anarchy

LADIES & GENTS
A BIG FUCK OFF
TO THE IDIOTS
OF THE MUSIC INDUSTRY

FUCK OFF
YOU PUNTERS
YOU HAVEN'T GOT A ROLE TO PLAY ANYMORE

I AM JUST A PLAN WITH A MAN
MAN EATING EXECUTIVES
MAN EATING BANDS
MAN EATING MANAGERS
MAN EATING BOOKING AGENTS
MAN EATING GROUPIES
MAN EATING SHEEPISH AUDIENCE
MAN EATING SEAS RECORDINGS FOUNDED!

ATTENTION TO CREATIVE MINDS
IF YOU HAVE A WAY TO REFLECT OUR TIME UPON COMMUNICATIVE WORKS THEN
FOLLOW ME
I WILL HELP YOU REALISE WHAT MUST BE DONE!

mes-white

#88

NOW

now, there's an interesting topic.
always now.
now and then.

9 is KiNo in action: Live in nYc

IMG00104

Ongoing KiNo bollocks parade in New York city. KiNo is focused on bulldozing this city's finest posers of ephemeral merits none other than enriching the shrine of idiotic idolatry.
SEE THE DATES OF THE MAP OF THE UNIVERSE IN THE SHOW MODE HERE.

#87

.. I WALK LIKE A BULLDOZER
AND CRASH LIKE A PORCELAIN CUP

... THIS BURST OF RUSH IS NOT FROM THE WHIRLPOOL IN MY 
SOLE...

#86

The incarnation of power
I obliterate my past as a face who soaked the sun under eternal gaze.

in this
retentive
cloud above my head
a million man have relinquished their lives
for a trigger
in the revolution of the mind

"Beloved imagination, what I most like in you is your unsparing quality. it is not the fear of madness which will oblige us to leave the flag of imagination furled"

based on the anomalies of child dreams

The equilibrium that is permanently confounding humanity is the notion of good and evil. The superiority of opinion as one posits a reason for a deed.
regulating the necessary schism of the good and evil to confound our senses and deliberately multiply the singularity of the vision that encompasses all, totally beyond homocentric standards.

Beyond good or evil
there is only the deed.
Someone does something
and that has a lead, a reason in being,

A doer's apt decision for the lack...
an insertion of justice in a situation that is unjust.

My mind has chained itself to change
It's the only decision i walk by





DSC00134

#85


ira

went to see my friend IRA COHEN at the hospital with Joce.
He read his poems to us like I always remember him for.

this is for him. >>

He is an insider to psalms and only in psalms
there is the mention of the thread that runs through us all

mystic beautiful man
the one who lives in several dimensions
internally and eternally

Baba!
us dying for a swig from your constellations
all is recorded erasing the space,
the origin of wisdom

#84

I indulge in the promotional material of the devil
in the skin festival.

Time is in time to beget my life
from the ruthless detours spiralling into the anus of the night

2008

2008

#83

there are no mysteries in life!
in the unfulfilled expectancy
look for the reason
rest assured desire never holds the leash of itself in forthcoming
neither the crazy love could refrain from burning.

this is a wise moment
not a wilful one.

#82

what is virtually lost is gained eternally in the memory!

#81

longing... a case of selenity.
at least there is a desirable quarter in every hour nailing me on my toes.
at least after my memory I can vanish in voluntary allusions and embody your aura because you were there when I spontaneously boomed.
And your emeraldine accent on shy landmarks gently laced a timeless lapse over me; so permenant and yet so imaginary.

effect. in-spiration.

#80

A rose and erroneous ideas chase me down a narrow corridor.
The path is straight but I am zigzagging.
This pattern across my life is not a sign
I do not need to know about my own loss.

In love and faith
with an eluding face.
My own.
Yours.
Where edges are drawn to contain all this,
eyes flow openly into ether.
Beyond.


page0_blog_entry408_1

notre

#79

like a moth clothing this spark
this moving darkness, this splendid solitude of thousand days
end up inside me.

#78

Idolators of love.

I am eaten,
eaten by the mass
inside, like a diamond in formation.

magnetically, i climb on the sweet melody of that visage
amidst the brume of literature, all that fits in sentences and what's beyond science
i gathered my being at your cliff reeling towards me
miles and miles of smiles
reams and reams of dreams
gush out
but, caught immediately
by the gravity of this sky above us

information is spread across this heart,
my saviour beating life,
I lacerate an arm that fires poetry
all my confidants fail to keep this secret
my eyes, my shy spasms, flirtatious lapses of reason,
are envisioned to love.

Are there faces, locks to realise memory?

Skipping stones on the
vexations I've escaped and I shall recreate
and I feel.
Alive.
You arrive.

#77

thrust me into this love, based like an ocean of that familiar feeling,
covet me,
pearl of lunacy,
crawling invested in this tunnel of vision
strapped without eyes
melancholy
who's your wiped out valentine,
wanton and livid?


#76

She was still a drop of ointment on my lips.
I uttered something corrupt.
love.


#75

an erection found a body,
caressing the tattered attire of sound and vision by the cliff of these moments,
when desire calls upon a living pagan
to cut the hand off that writes this wrong.

#74

The sinister self wants to compel an urged visual urchin
snuggling with the bed of the sea
like a baby in a trolley

casket head
replaced these houses and houses of watchful intelligence
on a clapping hand
we fall as the nigh evening of a sloppy murder.

Meningitis meaning
sensitive to light
and sound

poet vs. philosopher

that inveterate dreamer;

muscled invention of wisdom

arch-angel of chaos

and gusting with breath from a different life

I shit all the theories designed for the future

by the blind mouths who like to blind eyes

fucking useless philosophers 

of the modern library

your words in print are dry semen stains from your masturbation with the truth, you treat like a whore...

which is a drop in the infinite glory of the deluge

which doesn't fall at all

and has no direction, nevertheless is wet. 

I own no theory non-what-so-ever

than the contradiction of my inherent shape, 

as a human

and once again i am under dictation

that these words don't belong to me 

but i belong to them.

A poet needs no theories. 

It's whom you should be afraid of 

because his occupation is not to mingle and adore language like you, 

it's to destory and pull down the curtain which sits before your 

eyes which belong to others... 

so perfectly sustained at a correct point in history

a philosopher is the epitome of the cancerous state

the gnawing chin,

the incompetent personage who is not a proper man 

who cries at the inception of beauty

and moreover he is a fucking wanker

as far as I am concerned

and I concern myself with everything

by the way of awakening.

A statement

A Statement
Luis Buñuel
Film Culture, No. 21, 1960, pp. 41-42.

1. In none of the traditional arts is there such a wide gap between possibilities and facts as in the cinema. Motion pictures act directly upon the spectator; they offer him concrete persons and things; they isolate him, through silence and darkness, from the usual psychological atmosphere. Because of all this, the cinema is capable of stirring the spectator as perhaps no other art. But as no other art, it is also capable of stupefying him. Unfortunately, the great majority of today's films seem to have exactly that purpose; they glory in an intellectual and moral vacuum. In this vacuum, movies seem to prosper.

2. Mystery is a basic element of all works of art. It is generally lacking on the screen. Writers, directors and producers take good care in avoiding anything that may upset us. They keep the marvelous window on the liberating world of poetry shut. They prefer stories which seem to continue our ordinary lives, which repeat for the umpteenth time the same drama, which help us forget the hard hours of our daily work. And all this, of course, carefully watched over by traditional morals, government and international censorship, religion, good taste, white humour and other flat dicteria of reality.

3. The screen is a dangerous and wonderful instrument, if a free spirit uses it. It is the superior way of expressing the world of dreams, emotions and instinct. The cinema seems to have been invented for the expression of the subconscious, so profoundly is it rooted in poetry. Nevertheless, it almost never pursues these ends.

4. We rarely see good cinema in the mammoth productions, or in the works that have received the praise of critics and audience. The particular story, the private drama of an individual, cannot interest - I believe - anyone worthy of living in our time. If a man in the audience shares the joys and sorrows of a character on the screen, it should be because that character reflects the joys and sorrows of all society and so the personal feelings of that man in the audience. Unemployment, insecurity, the fear of war, social injustice, etc., affect all men of our time, and thus, they also affect the individual spectator. But when the screen tells me that Mr. X is not happy at home and finds amusement with a girl-friend whom he finally abandons to reunite himself with his faithful wife, I find it all very moral and edifying, but it leaves me completely indifferent.
5. Octavio Paz has said: "But that a man in chains should shut his eyes, the world would explode." And I could say: But that the white eye-lid of the screen reflect its proper light, the Universe would go up in flames. But for the moment we can sleep in peace: the light of the cinema is conveniently dosified and shackled.

#73


Pera. The hotel where temptress Nina Valeria lives. An assassin.

#72

Imaginary beings
revel with me
upon the timeless tireless complex whirlpool of my soul.

they see everything
the beautiful core,
entrusted to a situation that is my life.

#71

ignoble society

cowards,
leeches,
consumers hidden in workers,
who work like bricks to fall heavy on their bourgeoisie aspirations,
opinionated cock-gnawing mouths detached from the mind,
gasping arseholes,
agnostic pretty people,
believers who are led astray from belief by the way of extreme visions supported like a football team,
fiends,
inventors,
the thing in the shadow that no longer mark it's existence,
lives festered in the factory of rumours,
self-adoring mythological creatures with temporal trivia as life,
dead eyes,
dead voices,
squeaking americans,
knotted individuals who terrorise themselves through agonising others.

let's make a film


Map of the Universe is a feature film. Yes, it was always meant to be. The creative journey I embarked on upon leaving London was meant to realise the concept album/film/book triology. The album is done. The book had been written. As I am working on catapulting the album out to you, it's about time I introduce you my stronghold, the image, what i was educated in; cinema. I mean CINEMA not this bloody crap video
in which this little filmic proposal playfully presents you the filmmaker, the actor and the poet all in one. Let's produce a film. If you know how to get to money, give us a shout. Kinetic Twin: sound and image is the film production company of Man Eating Seas (it's another word for 9, the person behind all of this).

using a twat for your well being.

1. Simply acquire the image of a twat.
2. Fill in the blanks.
3. Send it out to the world,
You have just created a sentence only those who recognise this twat will understand. Unfortunately the majority of the people.
4. communication is everything.

bogus

#70

please release me
from the insidious traps of my wont.
to dispel this potential
i wanted this bell that rings to
spellbind us with change
for once and for all.
lustrous forethought strangling the world
in my hands
there is a machine that releases tension
in surges natural.

the corpse of our origin is revived daily by the assassin on the trapeze of time.

revolver

9 film noir
pardon me. hard on me. i'd like to exchange every gun to a gum in the world, pssstt. boom.

finished the album

pr6 copy

#69

I am drained in reality I have given an error a meaning.

#68

Join him.
Fatality is made.
Into the arms of death
time shuts his briefcase.

#67

poet,
enraged by truth,
is the rebellion of life
against science, art and economy.

a lad insane
mutiny in persona,
I am preparing the greatest show on earth.

funnily enough
the thoughts, cultivated by mice,
that ploughed the mind of mankind

criticism, like a block of cement, in hindsight, a new frontier.

my wont wants to rebel,
erecting a smile, wrecked in a mild retina, implacable visions
I am going to confront a fallow madness
dormant with death incarnate,

parasites curly curling, in music, cinema and veins.

What is the cost of pride in upright history?
Since, we have time by definition, the current currency
can not handle such transactions, sir, we are very sorry,

they own all the moppets manning the idiots, by the balls,
future is the property of perverts and queers,
"idolatry is tremendously fashionable this year,"
good dear.
Last hundred years,
cinema and music has been ill,
for the favour of the common denominator, an imbecile,
ground into the floor
by "the dark satanic mills",

Aphrodisiac poison
will suffocate and kill you,
they have perfected the guise of this,
it mixes well with your dreams.

the germ men in merry cunts
nazi bastards,
they talk only in advertisement,
with high pitched nasally accent,
their country, deathbed to liberty,
is the world's reflection in funny mirrors,
Boxed in this idiot's head,
television is a wide open anus,
funneling all the human waste into the collective mind,
a system for image and sound, that is reproduced on screens,
broadcasting propaganda, hokus pokus, chiefly in entertainment, information and education.
This great education,
I wouldn't call brainwashing,
where is the brain in this?
it's pure laundering for the sheets of green frog skin.

their spirit burns money
I burn their spirit like money.



#66


the song of my ego

a man, consumed at the expense of eternity.

I am just a plan with a man,
determination in person.

Self-centred perceived eccentric, it is by vocation,
I manifest this life as my magnus opus.

What I may heresay is absolute truth, as all I won't say is not untrue,
that it just is someone else's opinion, but who could never sing the song of my ego.

#65

To the heart of the matter,

Their spirit burns money
I burn their spirit like money.

9 undertakes the task of showing

kinocosmos
Think about it.
"Soon we'll see, where we may be."

the tool of revolution

kinomapoftheuniverse3web
this is the visual representations that 9 creates to catapult the Map of the Universe in the heart of the pig.

poem from a stranger

Who will explode to make the next Chaos?
The white dwarfs and red giants
of the sky
have all died like dynamite at the guessing
of their names,
and worlds have risen from their shrapnel.
If that is all a universe can create,
then what greater thing must die
before new men are made?

[emperor of ice cream cakes]

#64

[ A word from Kino to appear in the upcoming Revolution of the Mind]

The practical consequences of ages invested in the wisdom and confusion about the true nature of human existence, in relation to what he himself reckons, whether this reason has been entrusted to a doctrine which naturally falls close to, either idealism or materialism, even far before these schools of thought were put in the context of history, the body and spirit, material and immaterial essence of man has still yet to define his position in the sheer apprehension of his conscience, to me, that is the prism which fractures all things to their origins, including his own logic. Turn back your mind, back on itself.

get on the press for Bakunin!

[002] God and State - Foreword 1/6
One of the founding fathers of Anarchism, Mikhail Bakunin's masterpiece God and State in LibraVox audiobook format. 1/6.
12129374@N00
godandthestate_00_bakunin.mp3
2.6 MB

Seized from creation by nonentity.

#63

Megolamania procures a vantage point for the pest, the vermin, who says I am capable of representing reality, I am a filmmaker, a photographer, a critique.

inner space explorations

kmotu2

By the appointment of the queen her majesty, I was summoned to explore the deep space up inside my own casket.
Since, I am using the equipment of royal academy of astronomy, I have this big gratitude to speak of.

#62

intelligence connects the dots,
intellect often disconnects them.

funny but true!

unknown-1

the universe

kmotu1
kino map of the universe album graphic works in progress.

#61

my angst opened up like a mouth of a volcano.

6 arrives the scene!

Ladies and gentleman, concerto de ballet pianomagnetic fingers by 6! listen and get hammered!

there is nothing new under the sun

Point of view is the only new thing under the sun.
Map of the universe is the point of view of a languageless conscience.

All religions are the same. For whom the infinity is finite? The concept of God had to exist so that atheism and agnosticism was devised to react and therefore define itself. Infidel or pious, personal or social, all philosophies are bound to arrive at the eternal cause of thinking, whether it is called nature, deity, universe, axakakaxus.

All ideas are confined in the course of the contingency of truth. The more we recognise the underlying structure that unifies the innerworkings of situations, material formations or modifications, crudely known us as the reality, the more reason takes a form which elicits a non-language oriented point of view. Whether it is through science, philosophy, psychology, culture, music, television, everything is mingled with the substantial element that is neither existent nor inexistent according to our point of views, valuable nor worthless, and yet, that is what never ceases to have an effect in the harmony of human contusion. In another light, this is just the nature of the game. the life.

The mind is the ultimate compass on the map of the universe which reserves the same way of wrapping itself on the fabric of everything we can sense or imagine.
This magnificent principle organically and mentally manifests a boundary, the human infinity as in imagination also in permutations. It is sealed by the incommunicable incognito which opens doors of perception to human intelligence at certain points.

All tools bear the form of the anatomical structure of the human form. Everything invented by us is us in another form. This fact outmodes the argument about what is new? The only new thing is the point of view on these forms, which has to find other forms to express the vantage point as a departure on the map that illustrates realms beyond and before.

what is revolutionary?

max-ernst-1









He is definitely not talking about the principles that govern painting, a man who would be copied and raped after the world celebrated the form of his intelligent revolt, does not cease to be revolutionary. On the contrary, today if this mentality was around in a young body, his natural reaction would be to destroy the indignant layer of artists who regurgitate the form and therefore discredit the raison d'etre, which he so eloquently explains in this interview from the 60s.

Above all, the worshippers of relics, the so called surrealists today, the vermin, is what disgusts this young body need. However, their immediate punishment is executed by the oblivion and disinterest of public, that suits them the better than my crude disdain.

the revolution of the mind

La_Revolution_Surrealiste_cover

THE REVOLUTION OF SURREALISM IS BEING RELOCATED ACROSS TIME AND SPACE.
THE REVOLUTION OF THE MIND WILL BE DISTRIBUTED ONLINE BY MAN EATING PRESS IN CONJUNCTION WITH KINO VIDEOPODCAST TO OVER 90.000 PEERS.

KNOWN AND UNKNOWN PERSONAGES WILL BE PUBLISHED TOGETHER.
THE SUBMISSION DETAILS ARE AS FOLLOWS.
revolution submission details.pdf




free union by Breton

Reading of Breton.

i am responsible

copain

- i am responsible for everything. This is my caring face.

Manifesto of Surrealism

Manifesto of Surrealism, ANDRE BRETON (1924) made available by Man Eating Press.

a nice fat slap

Time is up for wankers.




subscribe to the video podcast to see the original!


9

across the universe, my arse.

I see death on every screen, every speaker.


SONY could shove this pile of rubbish up its flagged arse!
Something's gotta happen and I am not fazed a bit to confront these psychotic mindless parasites.

Across the universe, eh!

Let me spare you from the rant i feel in my stomach. Loving that man, so much. Lennon that is.

The idiotic generation like the one before, the one before, the one before,
what does he feel about this charade?
I tell you what he feels, I do.
Moreover, I will show you what he'd make of all this wank that goes on...
Soon enough there is gonna be a fucking nutter by the name of Kino
to rupture their mind games.
Behold!

Image

The Auspicious File:3

Vlatan Desnos met macabre entertainment persona Marilyn Manson, real name: Brian Warner, in Lower East Side, Manhattan at 15:12. 

#60

I was at The Knowing Circus last night.

we were unlocked,
music from black keys
dictated me the shrapnel
deep
as a woman.

Men collapsed masked with sadness.

A particular legend,
concrete on the panorama.

(2)

to raise our dead and question the cause of this grand dismay
that wakes and doses us with sleep at the same time.

Grand piano investigates a murder,
still being committed at the tip of my fingers.

(3)


when the poet raises his terrified mother
from the childhood blasphemies,

The Auspicious File: 2

Vlatan Desnos met with the former chief of MI6, Tony
Cragg, tonight at 19:24 in at New York University.

The Auspicious File: 1

Today Vlatan Desnos sent a message to the chief editor of New York Times Andrew Rosenthal at 10:21 Atlantic Ocean Time.

Premonition

A series of mysterious incidents.
It will be logged here,
activities soon to follow.
The agent Vlatan Desnos is conceived.
He will do what is necessary.

#59

To the meshes of the afternoon,
we’ll embark around musicians,
feeding our nocturnal vision.

Before anything else to discern the unborn tragedy and mourn for life and brevity to express anything else.

lyrical collage 1

I took a line from each song from the album map of the universe and made a poem.
lyricalcollage.mp3
1.4 MB

invisible dream

I was awakened by a permanent invisible dream.
In the clear reflection of this instant
I came across what life itself can be likened to,
a tree.
And the tree was resting upon it's own reflection.
When I shut my eyes to check the sure-reality,
I realised that I was indeed staring at my own reflection,
slightly in another form
but nevertheless my own.
Just an idea upon seeing the real;
this is what i wanna be when i die.
this recognition is indeed the departure on the map of the universe.
nightdream

Download 9's Book (3rd Chapter: Blue Maggot)

"Ink of my pen is your eyes
retracing my hand."

"Blue Maggot" also known as "Unmaking of a film" which exists as an album ( see below)
Or purchase the real book here.

barbconcerto_chapter3.pdf


#58

Trembling without subtance

It's obvious to be breathing

Dynamites on your chest

only you enliven the moment

this woman is a knife to cut you into half

the dumb states too much

only fools are the sane

the real in the imaginary

time no longer counts

in silent centuries

turn back your mind back on itself




release of unmaking of a film

Dear Public.
This is Unmaking of a Film.
A poetry and avant-garde soundtrack of a film that didn't get created. This album was made in 2001, even before I started to record professionally.
Thanks to the digital revolution, I can now share it with you!



The text of this album is downloadable here in pdf format.
barbconcerto_chapter3.pdf

9

Download 9's Book (2nd Chapter: Slain in Mirth)

Slain in Mirth, a collection of poems about Selenity.
“Melancholy, strapped queen of the queers.
Who is your wiped out valentine,
wanton and livid?"

Download the Book: Barb Concerto Chapter 2.pdf

#57

Perdition at last.

Download 9's Book (1st Chapter)

......"Yes. This is an automated photosynthesis of the literature in me. As if to breathe without any effort, whatever i may adapt here as the subject matter - which often becomes a cage for many writers who trying to fit their enormous sky of light astonishment - can provoke something perhaps more than just literature. If you are talented at deranging yourselves, the poetic turbulence will haul itself out. texts still resting at the tip of the tongue, tied to the eye -its representative who wildly roars about everything-, texts soaring like an eagle..."

Download the Book: BArb Concerto Chapter 1 for no charge at all, but share with your beloved ones.

#56

What's the difference between creator and creation?
Absolutely nothing.
To become an opus with one's life.
You know, rolling forward as the jet of a billiard ball banging on the triangle, with the intensity of a garden hose going off after being untied from a knot.

Man Eating Press Podcast

Dear Public,
This is Man Eating Seas Press podcast created to distribute
the works of the brightest minds of generations operating from
Maneatingseas.com and ITunes.

In this podcast, you will be presented with audio, pdf books and video material
from a collective; both classic and contemporary!

Please subscribe to what-would-be the extensive library of titles, riches of the revolution of the mind.

The first episode from Man Eating Seas Press is my book Barb Concerto, chapter by chapter.
Already highly sophisticated acquisitions have been made for the upcoming episodes on the programme from people like Baudelaire, Breton, 6, Ache, 7, Ira Cohen, Jonas Mekas, Tzara, Marx, Jean Luc Godard.

If you want to submit work, click here.

Expect, expect, expect. Man Eating Press.

mespressitunes

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#55

eyes are ribboned by birth
sight to vision

the ache in our sordid bones is from the recluse of the lizard
who fucks in human skin.

limitation

An idiot's point of view as criticism is really the limitation of his vision.

#54

Freedom!
Vicariously assassinated at birth!
for you freedom
they slain
to cage you in a state of the insane.

This insanity is not the one of brilliance and misconception.
but, of mediocrity and devious denial in desperation for power,
pitifully, only measurable by economy.

I tell you, the real power cannot be bought and sold or even exchanged, moreover, certainly cannot be leashed by a group of people for other people.

heroes: Mayakovsky

mayakovsky

Vladimir Mayakovsky.
These eyes write.

#53

an automatic message:

solitude is multitude.
nice one, nice one, mice won.
in the white hot impossible.
i am afraid the world might be an end.
if i wasn't ridiculous, i could have been a pompous bourgeoisie twat.
hidden in the mad ridden youthful waste of me.
there is deep faith in making nonsense out of everything deemed correct and complete.
don't temper with mad love.
dozens of songs at one go, the other evening.
in the meantime,
wolves are eating each other over a sheep in a wolf's clothing.

everything follows from this

breton
"Everything leads to the belief that there exists a certain point of the mind at which life and death, the real and the imaginary, the past and the future, the communicable and the incommunicable, the high and the low, are not perceived as contradictions. It would be vain to attribute to surrealism any other motive than the hope of determining this point. It is clear, moreover, that it would be absurd to ascribe to surrealism either a purely destructive or a purely constructive character—the point at issue being precisely this: that construction and destruction can no longer be brandished against each other. It becomes clear also that surrealism is not at all interested in taking into account what passes alongside it under the guise of art or even antiart; of philosophy or antiphilosophy; of anything, in a word, that has not for its ultimate end the conversion of being into a jewel, internal and unseeing, with a soul that is neither of ice nor of fire. What, indeed, could they expect of surrealism, who are still anxious about the position they may occupy? On this mental plane from which one may for oneself alone embark on the perilous, but, we think, supreme reconnaissance—on this plane the footsteps of those who come or go are no longer of any importance, because these steps occur in a region where, by definition, surrealism possesses no listening ear. It is not desirable that surrealism should be dependent on the whim of this or that group of persons. If it declares itself capable of uprooting thought from an increasingly cruel serfdom, of bringing it back to the path of total comprehension, of restoring to its original purity, it is indeed no more than right that it should be judged only by what it has done and by what it has still to do in the fulfilment of its promise..."

Andre Breton, 1934

icon1
This promise is the one that will not perish as long as we are in human form.
This is precisely my position between awareness and motivation. Call me an artist or a musician and I will break your nose. For this spirit have always been inherent in the intelligent men's psyche across centuries, countries, traceable back to our origin. My duty is to destroy creatively in order to reconnect the internal knowledge that sustains any form and language from taking precedence over another one with regards to value in virtue. Call me a philosopher and I shall slap you. I will bring you back to the path of total comprehension through what I am capable of doing. The only voice of truth, Poet.

breton
In Breton's Surrealist Manifesto of 1924 he defines surrealism as:

Dictionary: Surrealism, n. Pure psychic automatism, by which one proposes to express, either verbally, in writing, or by any other manner, the real functioning of thought. Dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason, outside of all aesthetic and moral preoccupation.

Encyclopedia: Surrealism. Philosophy. Surrealism is based on the belief in the superior reality of certain forms of previously neglected associations, in the omnipotence of dream, in the disinterested play of thought. It tends to ruin once and for all other psychic mechanisms and to substitute itself for them in solving all the principal problems of life.


This deserves a full explanation. And I am at the level of finishing the creation of this pretext in sound and image.

#52

Pieces rust that work the hour.
Time.
The very idea of measurement.
The imposed civilisation.
Where did this ambition to progress come from?
Whose need was it to sit on foam?
We know that economy has nothing to do with numbers,
it consumes souls,
embodies their bodies,
Always new on the market. 
A tube of hair gel, dynamic curves of cars for different seasons,
and thanks for the records now all beating with a permenant pulse, 
drums of africa is finally ringing in the western world, what a  massive jungle without the wild, peopled and dying for recollection because it suspects a beginning.
History, it's loyal terrorist, whose brainwashing acquits many villians and cannibals for
the grotesque party of misinformation.
Beware! Somethings never happened.

#51

Who is the shrapnel stuck in my mind,
in the gentle idea that
I am a leader?

#50

All masks are off
names and numbers must die
get out from where you hide
traps must be reset,
for liberty,
that cannot be owned by a state or a statue,
it's mine and like minded mines of brilliant stuff like me.

Arse Magna of Vermin

If you are an artist, musician or a writer that means you are disabled in spirit.
It's because, unlike your idols, you aspire to wear the costume of great spirits' vocation.
The form you are looking for is your own, the human form in the map of the universe.

There is only one place you will be reminded of this overwhelming truth, that consumes your petite occupations like vice does to man, even though you may be ascending heavenwards.
The slap of this higher awareness, the surrealist revolution, will not take place at bloody squares... or in your private screens or even in front of your eyes.
It may happen in the mind of anyone who is imaginative enough to think about their own death, when one is immersed in the image-sentiment immersed in everything at once!

When?

#49

poet admits himself to the terrain through firmament.

#48

psalms inside palms
wisdom
a last morsel of words

heroes of surrealism: robert desnos

desnos2

Without youth
inside your grand head,
I am the most ingenious idiot
recalling
you as a wave of hypnosis
that creates

#47

the door is afraid of opening
so am i,
and yes I am unhinged by the mind
that padlocks this language.

#46

Falling on false sense of security.

#45

I am atomised silence
on a steady lapse of unauthorised noise
inside me,
arrests me.

Any future will foretell the past
while we are clambering over a civilisation
that burns its dead like our collective memory.

#44

At ease I used to stitch myself to verses
now the deliberate pause
if I stopped writing
is it because I am living instead?

#43

The prick and the womb
is a deliberate chaos
inserted on this planet
to thrust the inevitable end
inside us that carries the naked light
by which we are.

!!! very important document !!!

yes here.

an interview with the devil

#42

The impenetrable blue of Poseidon's realm
and the arbitrary construction that rises above Paris
has got me thinking about the flesh of women who live down below.

who can deny the coming of the idea?

#41



PEEVING SONG by Kino

I would like to shut you up and cut you into parts
resembling the cobbled stone streets of the mind
whenever you weight the man with a smile
everything must be convincingly done

disappear after a terrible mess,
go on son rupture this night,
I can't peeve everybody in the world
but, i will try

soothe my conscience, i am an ambush hidden in a man,
have you heard it the news is that you are dead.
new york city has too many wicked souls
this place is really really fucking doomed...

iron curtain before your eyes
a human being will get numbed under any circumstance.

alluring lips of a giant dog
this government would like a snog
swallow your affection, miss.
i am not on your side.
you'll know me as an insult.

#40

Corpus enigma!

Armed with the forces of intelligence
for the great sabotage of the mind,
for the revolution at hand.

The voice of Minotaure

minotauresmall


"May the devil preserve the surrealist idea as every other idea tending towards concretion of form, towards the completest possible subordination to the order of fact, as love tends to the creation of a being, the idea of a revolution to the advent of a day of revolt, for otherwise their existence would have no reason whatsoever. Let the reader remember that the surrealist preoccupation is running no serious risk of extinction so long as man shall continue capable of distinguishing an animal from an up-rising flame or stone." Andre Breton

In the midst of my actions, re-launching the official surrealist publication Minotaure to herald the continuation of surrealism as the most vital function of the human spirit to the sleepy world, I feel utmost determined to bar the inevitable reactions of cynics, occupants of intellectual trends, urban youth – what I call as vermin – and the artisans of irrelevance: artists – scum of the world.


Admittedly, I feel sensational as I am about to frontier the fresh, contemporary revolt of the mind back on itself. Today, we are in the shoes of the heroes of surrealism who lived their lives to the extent of the marvelous shock. Their emotions speak through us. The absolute transcendence of their message has come this far to influence contemporary people. Since then surrealists have always thrived, especially, those who doesn’t recognise themselves as one, each and every one of them… Why? Because, surrealism is the only fucking means to liberate one from the restraint of a system. In the pure mathematics of logic, the language, upon which doctrines and observations of smart men is built. There is only one point at which everything loses meaning, value, assurance on the crux of the matter.


By completely rejecting what surrealism means to most, let me announce, we are neither interested in undertaking the burden of surrealism in historical context, nor keen on justifying the deeds and lives of the surrealists up until now. I am fully aware of the ramifications of my conceit.


Surrealism is alive and more relevant than ever to the primary matters of our existential agenda. We live through the tunnels of time and metamorphosis… the only thing which won’t change, as a matter of fact, is the human form and to do with it, is our psyche. Considering that a human being is the epitomy of the integration of matter and idea at once, surrealism is his conscience to locate himself in the map of the universe.


Hello Public. I am informing you that myself and the band of new surrealist, whose names are disclosed in the first edition of Minotaure are fully equipped with the balls and intelligence to set awe upon your miserable occupations which have grown tiresome in the pathetic creations that you have misplaced in this rotten culture. I myself, am about to take on the full expansion of media as Kino. Anyone who wants to contribute is welcome, anyone who knows the resonance of true emotion!


Finally, we are back again in the veins of the electric world. Minotaure will be distributed in following cities: London, Bristol, New York, San Francisco, Seattle, Marseille, Paris, Lyon, Berlin, Copenhagen, Moscow, Istanbul, Ankara, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Montreal, Barcelona, Madrid, Tokyo, Nagasaki, Rome, Valencia, Oslo, Peking, Hong Kong, Cairo and Baghdad. Be ready and gain ambition because we are commencing.


3 forms of expression

Those who has used language to become an elusive prism through which the reality passes, those who know that image and sound are the same, those who are poets without writing, they are the spirits in this household of surrealism. And I am the current keeper of its riches. I am 9, I seek divine love.

mes

#39

To my maze,
I shall still withhold words from their meanings
for each one of these pearls are utterly blind
and infectious
like love has been to me .

now the laughing wine is overflown with the music of chains and irony maiden in a dream, but an erosion.

Watchman

[from the Kino podcast - attributed to the 7th song of the his album Map of the Universe WATCHMAN"]

"Newspaper says that we are all dying, the odds and sods were all crying, skeletons make love with their ghosts, in their eyes we are broken clocks."









#38

Disarm Humans.
We are in a race of centipedes
can't you recognise the grand prize beneath the stars,
they are not on this net between us.
But in between us.

"I am in charge" poem on a KINo demo song in a cinepoem!

This is the demo version of Come and See the Pretty Chaos, attached to a poem "I am in Charge" shortly after the song was written. It was an afternoon spent with Paula and Dominique, the footage dates back about 3 summers ago, perhaps... A cinepoem which I sentenced to host the seed of the Map of the Universe. Clearly you can see the infamous cup of coffee from 2 or 3 things I know about her...


#37

An image for an image,
an eye for an ear
an ear for a mouth
a mouth for a lie
a lie for a life.

#36

America is just the reflection of Europe in funny mirrors.

#35

One glance
until all is thought to be fathomed,
all in a fragment until we meet again.. when... by our mutual surprise
we discover that fraction again in the remnants of a speed
which we are,
a debris of a comet.

#34

Hope is in the lines of a woman's thighs.

Disambiguation of the Map of the Universe by Kino





My Map of the Universe refers to the charted and illustrated image of the area in our minds which corresponds to the 10th dimension they are talking about.
Forces realised in this album under the skin of music, imagery and emotional volition just belongs to the greatest human potential; imagination.
I dedicate this album to men who raised me to obtain this state of mind: A.V. - A.B. - J.L.G. - R. W.

"
There are three ways of knowing a thing. Take for instance a flame. One can be told of the flame, one can see the flame with his own eyes, and finally one can reach out and be burned by it." A Sufi Poet.

#33

Does a question respond to an answer the same way a mirror does to a face?

No? Yes?

Hemispheres of buoyant temples on those chests I wish to adore,
are the tests in an inadequate pleasure for pure evil?

Yes? No?

#32

I have wasted my youth and all it's spark for a relief made for the self by the hand.
I have come forth to lacerate the same hand that bridges the gap between you and me.

to my heroic disappearance act in the face of the world,
in the face I am spotted with disgust,
upon seeing the slow decay of the self for the serfdom of the self in the seldom fatal presence.

#31

The waltz of death
tell me
what you see
in the faint hanging body
might there be a faint spirit
as the shroud of a divine idea, maybe?

cinema

Cinema is a tool for exploring the human soul, like poetry, like painting, like music.

Is cinema dead? Is music dead? Is literature dead? Art has been dead for decades!
My answer is that humanity is dying in the wash of these changing forms which govern expressionistic mediums.

NOw, more then ever, we must contemplate how to destroy the popular culture and the idolatry of idiocy channelled in it.

Hero: Léo Ferré

i cry
i cry.
only beauty makes you cry!

Heroes of surrealism


Jean Vigo... poet of surrealism... a catapult of youthful anarchy and fire... L'Atalante.

#30

I was brought to justice by a severed hand,
but night with it's symbolism
and beautiful embroidery of fleshed perfumes is as divided as this hand writing while erasing.

#29

Ingenious revival of my child
hooded with marvels
walk this expired infant again through thick and thin
on the infinite juvenile grandeur,
into the luminous grinder of dreams which make us into men.

poet of surrealism makes the map of the universe

IMG_0078

#28

Who builds these catacombs
on people's faces?



#27

The cliff I fell from is higher than my being.

Between me and poetry, there is a battle where the very essence of every men reigns brutally...thrown into the throne is my fetish, object form of my very limit which is bonded to me from the primary moment of existence. Since, I recognise this, I am tortured... but I must recognise this, because I am revealed by the crystallisation of this torment.

#26

testimonies of a super- ego:
enlarge as you wish, my pretty!
you are not alone in this world.

sulphur smile,
mellotron tease
I am yours
all the way

culprit desire
camels throttle under shy gates which yield no stranger
a way rounded up about heaven

bureau of surrealism under the reign of 9 >> what do i do?

image + sound + language
3 forms of expression available to human beings.

The creative, analytical, destructive forces of 9... as follows:

KINo [operates in sound]
Kinetic Twin: image and sound [operates in film]
Man Eating Seas [operates in language]

KINo + Man Eating Seas + Kinetic Twin = Surrealism


IMG_0070

initials b.b. & jlg+9

brecht2

- who is the most innocuous smog of genius?
- image!
- who is he?
- jean luc godard.
- that's right!
- old father brecht told us that actors should speak as though quoting the truth.
- but who is he?
- sound!
- I stalk balanced in between them.
- who are you?
- cinema in nude, eternal.


IMG_0044

neuf de jour

09.01.07

I came to this world to strew a few good bombs
to brighten your vision,
I am the kinetic twin: sound and image, the drowning of language in this man eating seas.
yes, as a child I knew everything, owned everything, was everything,
staring at the ceiling
and the carpet,
objects in their eternal lives whispered me the secrets of the map of the universe.
Known to be a mirror that slaps,

I am the agent of forces who will collide again with me, through me, and after me,
with all the open hearts forever
the worlds inside one love.


wo

a short story

Vit tale

The day was spent with Acabre Sade and myself lying in the guts and blood spilt living room. What a horrendous expectation one would grow by simply walking across this worthless pit of a home. I grew up there along with my 3 sisters who had all been lovers to Mister Umbrick at certain seasons. He used to live across the street from our residency, the very place where now a dead person met death in person.

Acabre Sade "Pass me that bottle".
I would not dare to touch that filthy shit, it's poison. But I am going to say
"Of course."
As a result of my cowardice, I had to hold the bottle in which the bile from the diced stomach of our victim was already changing its colour from lively organic discharge to rotten lifeless venom.
Acabre Sade "It's delicious."
I had to agree despite the scene suggesting the opposite. The red lipstick she was wearing was trailing the liquid as she appetisingly downed 1/3 of the bottle at one gulp."

That fuck for that fucking song, I thought to myself, wearing the smile of that fake consent. She absolutely in sheer enjoyment of out the heavy liquidified content of the victim's last supper.

[ song by Kino - Map of the Universe ]

"... watchman in the square thinking to himself, only fools are the sane, "imagine this" they advised him this, silhouette's in discipline..."

Acabre Sade "I love that song, it makes me want to fuck forever." She put the bottle down to blow a kiss full of filth.

#25

Everything comes from one and returns to one, too.

from imported visions...

- pourquio, de-ja nuit? why, already the night?
- which has come first, day or night?
- a vision, neither for darkness nor for hope.
- i can't sleep at nights
- where do you go?
- i have been writing songs, to bring her back.
- I get picked up by a peppermint car to arch over the horizon where death dies at each hour?

#24

Have I been devoured by an insatiable moon?
I surely mustn't know.

This very day,
I am welcome to an eclipse
once predicted when I was a child.

Of all the ends to a love story
the best one is to start another one.

#23

I am possessed
my entire being is sledded down
the abyss of existence

#22

Boiling in the mutual stream,
in the obedient wail of the hour
ridiculous
solid eyes tell me
who am i
i am worn over a million shrouds.

Kino attacks!

music-explosive
click to go to Kino T.v.

9


I am in charge of the sin consecrated by the abyss between man and his belief.
I am in charge of the great distortion in the echo which will never leave you alone.
I am in charge of the gadgets created by you, which failed to help you.
I am in charge of the economy of monsters and severing lips and genitals.
I am in charge of the secret society whose suicides are ever so joyous
I am in charge of the masters who have become masters just to illustrate the bond between your thighs and mind.
I am in charge of mechanic assault.
I am in charge of the seas that eat the men.
I am in charge of sadness and european history.
I am in charge of the void in your voice whenever you opinionate.
I am in charge of the spectacle that never never ends except only when there is a natural disaster such as mass awareness.
I am in charge of the revolution that has never happened, yet.
I am in charge of the spittle flying across the room when you enter.
I am in charge of the marble slap landing on your face as well as my stare.
I am in charge of impatience clawing on your back to set you forth, because you need to move.
I am in charge of the stagnance you are muddling with which is the biggest swamp in the world.
I am in charge of the determination of little kids in their dreams.
I am in charge of everything except what life contorts naturally.
I am in charge of the bourgeoisie stabbing itself after seeing our example.
I am in charge of hostility towards the limited being.
I am in charge of the soil which united states of america and its human doings stand on.
I am in charge of the wall in Anatolia which stood there 100.000 years and was a part of the first human settlement.
I am in charge of the manipulation of desire.
I am in charge of myself as a voluntary fool, but i really am a genius.
I am in charge of the mountain i am laying here in words, like most of my ancestors were in charge of their own peaks.
Now, I am in charge of the nature kept and served by my heroes.
I am in charge of philosophy and its expressive creation in the forms of cinema, music and general attitude towards the life.
I am in charge of mediocrity, killing you very very slowly, almost like cancer.
I am in charge of prolonging the triumph of my heroes.
I am in charge of the house where these heroes live forever.
I am in charge of the forest where the house has been erected.
I am in charge of humanity obsessed with wrinkling the world.
I am in charge of the worlds which are visibly lost to my memory.
I am in charge of retribution for the fall of sovereign empire.
I am in charge of very very bad things in your mind.
I am in charge of understanding the general patterns and concepts in which our thought structure dwells and often gets crammed by the unnecessary stimulation around.
i am in charge of your steps into the light.
i am in charge of all creation in opposition to your only possession; ungrounded criticism.
I am in charge of the wind that suprisingly knocks down a flower pot which is a spy.
I am in charge of every man who has had a disbelief is what's being offered to them.
I am in charge of minor and major silence.
I am in charge of songs which are written for a cause.
I am in charge of the last song each great musician wrote.
I am in charge of their demands and their orchestration for the eternal band.
I am in charge of the dark side of the moon.
I am in charge of the returning poetry from gods smacked mouth.
I am in charge of the religion of inseperation.
I am in charge of the spirit of revolt.
I am in charge of the funny incidents that occur daily and humour is the black sea.

revolting, idle occupation,
diagression in the minds
of our current members of the human race.

if i can't articulate the complexity of this mental image,
it's because there are magnetic fields between "being" and "representation".

i endure,
i am volatile
on purpose
in the purgatory
mangled between my two ears.

I cease to impose myself on everything i see.
bad habit.

I am in charge of excess and moderation that measures your boredom
I am in charge of your boredom and then the awareness creeping in at the most inconsiderate moment.
I am in charge of the panic convoy on spines crushed by inertia,
the weight of the world,
I am in charge of shapes propelled within.
I am in charge of the industrial revolution you don't know yet, it's happening somewhere completely unsuspected.
I am in charge of the turnstile civilisation got halted,
I am in charge of them and their patrons.
I am in charge of rebels who are rebels at home and abroad.
I am in charge of the mechanism that signs and resigns the contract with the ministry of challange.
I am in charge of the nebula of lovers, insurgent emotions, selfish for nothing less than castrating each other.
I am in charge of virtuosity that uses the lethal pistol of imagination.
I am in charge of public announcements for the dooms day, the happiest day of our lives; finally all will be equally discharged from the thick skin and the grades, granted by the insanity only poets escape.

I am in charge of the defense and determination of the modern spirit.
I am in charge of the imported visions from the past.
I am in charge of the modern malady.
I am in charge of the opera for mutes.
I am in charge of pack of wolves
i am in charge of the assasination in pera palas.
i am in charge of the severed tongue of lady zeal.
i am in charge of pola negris.
i am in charge of the peppermint car.
i am in charge of the sad eyed serpent.
i am in charge of the testimonies.
i am in charge of the man eating seas.
i am in charge of the hypnotic
i am in charge of the movement
i am in charge of the syneasthesia
i am in charge of the anachronism
i am in charge of the reams and reams of dreams
i am in charge of the love ballad in blood
i am in charge of the slain in mirth.
i am in charge of the unmaking of a film.
i am in charge of the falling pits.
i am in charge of what is nuder than yourself
i am in charge of all peaving songs
i am in charge of what exactly is a joke!
i am in charge of raving and drooling
i am in charge of the sinister minister.
i am in charge of the circus that leaves gravity.
i am in charge of the instruments of wit
i am in charge of the vainglorious bastards
i am in charge of the rising fits
i am in charge of the replica.
i am in charge of the stuff that won't do
i am in charge of everything and all is bloody one.
I am in charge of people who are buried in the moon.
i am in charge of the plotless story.
I am in charge of what's demure in arms.
I am in charge of i am in charge of the tales from grotesque and arabesque
i am in charge of the manifesto of children
i am in charge of the number nine and its function.

I am information
through and through
the voice that curses as it speaks.

I am consideration for the a cry in the universe,
yes, it has been heard before,
a growing fray,
which is the cry of the mind back on itself.
Do or die?
And I am asking you
What shall we have in common?

Hkaan Truan 9



ori maptitles

#21

Modern Malady.
Our actions, habits, ambitions, desires, affections are as modern as our corpses.
modernmalady

death in lucid state

Those who control the image rule the world!
But don't forget that Holly-wood is a coffin!

#20

The man walks his shadow to tolerate the doubt;
whether it is day or night,
it's neither!
only a song of the piper.

"Beauty makes you cry." Leo Férre.

#19

fang-less vampire,
teeth deep in a sealed smile.



when one remembers one often forgets
how beauty is a captive child in your feminine fortress.

#18

mevlana,folding into an aeroplane,
gaze under everything, artaud
speak no longer, godard
forming the big enigma with an unsure smile, breton
I am your child.

My heroes are forests,
books still in the form of trees.
Their pages content with air
and the rippling of a stream nearby
just minutes before civilisation.

#17

I received a bullet on the chest of liberty.







#16

ascend on a beautiful day,
life keeps you inside me like a pearl inside death,
on a beautiful day,
let army of shadows play,
black keys of the piano playing the song of death.

music: Kino
9








"only the hand that erases can write" JLG

#15

Everything at once!

If i can't articulate the complexity of this mental image,
it's because there are magnetic fields between "being" and "representation".

I cry,
I endure
I am volatile if I am, on purpose
in the purgatory
mangled between my two ears.

#14

Don't be a mother to my skull.

#13

Nothing itself is mentally together.

in the body,
inborn stupidity,
in the mind
unborn euphoria,
outliving something close to being a life.lie

touchez pas au grisbi


this image is actually a seed for the feature film of 9, Map of the Universe, from the opening sequence; come and see the pretty chaos, destruction of moma, louvre, tate modern and many other major art museums.

#12

we whiplash you with silent centuries,
hit you in the face with a few histories.

we apparently are always invisible,
only visible while disappearing.

You will find us waiting at the wielding of a sharp tongue.

#11

we sail in the ruins and in vessels.

Book of 9

#10

Advancing towards a concrete idea in order to flatten my face.

Glaciers over this lucidity is a fantastic mirror!

I beget reality by each and every glance,
to forget that the climate inside me is a restless boy.

#9

I am a
Black swan
on the lacquered pond
with the ghouls of the noon.

I used to love a woman,
her name comes to mind
when Ophelia slit her mouth with an open wound.

#8

This illusion has a future!
Avoid fiction!
Shrapnel of truth skips gracefully on the ice rink of all hearts.

Public announcement

9

Public announcement by an authority who governs itself. In case you don't know where this comes from, well, it comes from within.










#7

I must commit something more terrible than
manhandling former lovers!

Heist, my desire.
Big crime.
Uniformed in hypnose.

map of the universe

come and see the pretty chaos, 
in another form the map of the universe.

eyes, ears and mouth, 
Sightless sea, seemingly, 
let's make love, 
tear out the flesh, (this will not do)
for a return, 
to eternity,
skeletons with their ghosts we all have been
the children of the world

come and see the pretty chaos 
imagination

#6

museum of modern corpse;
there for the spirit of destruction,
full of mute relics
and fatal wounds
and form that belies all essence.

#5

A story that would replace me was
handed to me from a manhole.

#4


and her eyes were finally rapacious
from wanting...

#3

... and if ever before the great swallow
of our existence,
this glistening awareness halts
the next pose in the eyelid will be eternal.

#2

We cut the reflection of music,
from the black keys,
unlocking each mysterious voice,
every voice that is too long for a mouth.

sound, noise, voices
the breath of neighing shadows penetrate 9,
i am deadly as the pieces of the night before, running out of you.

#1

True to the melodies of death,
someone is pulling the zipper through
where I have been in order to erect
a reason.

there is nobody, only soul.

Psychedelia

This makes me laugh really, how LSD is attributed central to the psychedelic experience, after all that happened in popular culture.
Map of the Universe is going to be definitely the most psychedelic thing you have ever ever experienced, and it was created without a drop of any drug or stimulant. It's is a state of mind immersed in images that creates something what language fails to represent. That is the true definition of psychedelia. It's also no coincidence that surrealists are the ambassadors of this higher conscience of organised chaos at the expense of infinity. I am the ambassador of every bugger who has imagination tied

The Origins of Psychedelic Rock - a timeline

(Source: Kaleidoscope Eyes - Psychedelic Rock from the ‘60s to the ‘90s”
by Jim Derogatis)

1794 Mystic-poet William Blake publishes Songs of Innocence
1808 Physician John Steams publishes the first modern account of medicinal uses for ergot
1816 English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge publishes the image-filled “Kubla Khan:
1816-1819 Romantic poets Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley cavort like rock stars
1821 Thomas de Quincey publishes “Confessions of an English Opium-Eater”
1839 Opium enthusiast Edgar Allan Poe publishes “Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque”
1844 Writer Theophile Gautier opens Le Club des Haschischins in Paris, attracting regulars Charles Baudelaire, Honore de Balzac, Alexandre Dumas, Gerard de Nerval, and Victor Hugo
1855 Von Bibra’s “Die Narkotischen Genusmittel unde der Mensch” identifies seventeen types of mind-altering plants
1857 Baudelaire publishes Les Fleurs du Mal
1865 English author Lewis Carroll publishes “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”
1871 Arthur Rimbaud frequents the absinthe bars of Paris with his lover Paul Verlaine and achieves synaesthesia through “a systematic derangement of all the senses”
1884 Sigmund Freud publishes “Uber Coca”, which advocates the medicinal uses of cocaine.
1894 Surrealist Alfred Jarry writes “The Passion Considered as an Uphill Bicycle Race”
1896 Lewis Lewin and Arthur Heffter isolate the alkaloid mescaline from the Mexican cactus Lophophora williamsii, a.k.a. peyote
1918 Arthur Stoll isolates ergotamine -the first pure ergot alkaloid- at the Sandoz Company in Basel, Switzerland
1919 Ernst Spath produces the first synthetic mescaline in Germany
1924 The Bureau of Surrealist Enquiries opens on the Rue de Grenelle in Paris
1926 Ergot-contaminated rye causes the last great outbreak of St Anthony’s Fire in southern Russia
1928 Spanish painter Salvador Dali visits Paris and meets the French surrealists
1929 Chemists at the Rockefeller Institute in New York isolate the nucleus common to all ergot alkaloids and name it lysergic acid
1932 English novelist Aldous Huxley publishes Brave New World
1935 Albert Hoffmann resumes the study of ergot alkaloids at Sandoz
1937 Harry Ainslinger, commissioner of the U.S. Bureau of Narcotics, signals the start of the war on drugs with a harrowing article entitled “Marijuana: Assassin of Youth”
1938 Hofmann produces his twenty-fifth synthesis, lysergic acid diethylamide.
1938 French poet Antonin Artaud travels to Mexico to participate in the peyote ritual with the Tarahumara Indians, the basis of his 1995 book “Peyote Dance”
1942 The U.S. Office of Strategic Services (OSS) experiments with various truth drugs, hitting on a potent extract of marijuana
1943 Scientists achieve nuclear fission at the University of Chicago. Hofmann takes the first acid trip.
1944 Mayor Fiorella Laguardia asks the New York Academy of Medicine to study the pros and cons of marijuana. The academy contradicts almost all of Harry Ainslinger’s alarmist warnings
1947 Psychiatrist Werner Stoll publishes a study on LSD, and Sandoz issues a prospectus to researchers
1947 The U.S. Navy experiments with mescaline as a truth serum, drawing on the results of tests conducted by the Nazis on prisoners at the Dachau concentration camp
1951 The CIA, successor to the OSS, begins to experiment with LSD. OSS veteran Al Hubbard takes LSD and has a visionary experience
1952 Humphrey Osmond studies the effect of mescaline and LSD on alcoholics in Canada
1953 Under Osmond’s supervision, Huxley tries mescaline and writes “The Doors of Perception”
1955 Oscar Janiger gives LSD to the Hollywood elite, including Cary Grant
1955 Hofmann and his Sandoz colleagues isolate and synthesize the key compounds of psilocybin and psilocin from psychedelic mushrooms
1956 Beat poet Allen Ginsberg publishes his booklength poem “Howl”
1957 Jack Kerouac publishes “On the Road”
1957 R. Gordon Wasson writes a seventeen-page article on psychedelic mushrooms for “Life” magazine
1960 Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert begin researching psilocybin at Harvard University. Ginsberg
takes psilocybin at Leary’s house, calls Kerouac, and identifies himself as God. Kerouac hangs up. Ken Kesey is paid seventy-five dollars to take psilocybin at Stanford University
1962 Leary and Alpert drop acid with Michael Hollingshead and add LSD to their research
1963 Leary and Alpert are expelled from Harvard. On that day President John F. Kennedy is assassinated, Huxley dies at age seventy after his wife grants his last request: an intravenous injection of LSD
1964 Kesey and his Merry Pranksters visit Leary and his researchers at Millbrook, New York
1964 Leary, Alpert, and Ralph Metzner publish “The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on the Tibetan Book of the Dead”, a guide for taking LSD
1965 Large batches of acid start to appear on big-city streets. Between March and December, psychiatrists at New York’s Bellevue Hospital treat sixty-five people admitted during bad acid trips. Kesey holds the first Acid Test
1966 Bill Graham opens the Fillmore in San Francisco. The city of San Francisco estimates that fifteen thousand “hippies” are living in the Haight. Sandoz terminates all research contracts and stops manufacturing LSD. A Texas court sentences Leary to thirty years and a $30,000 fine for possession of marijuana. Marshall McLuhan advises Leary to fight in the court of public opinion. Leary holds a press conference at the New York Advertising Club to announce the formation of the League for Spiriual Discovery (LSD). “Like every great religion of the past, we seek to find the divinity within and to express this revelation in a life of glorification and the worship of God,” he says. “These ancient goals we define in the metaphor of the present - turn on, tune in, drop out.” Leary continued preaching self-discovery through psychedelics into the mid-‘90s.


all is and
was finally
a fragment.

Tiny heads of men,
cogwheeled to each other, are cycling infinity

in my eyelids
i see them everywhere
with distinct movement pacing fast in slow motion eclipse

mute with me.






systematising confusion everyone!

In order to represent conscience, we are making unmaking of films and albums. In the aftermath of all the failed revolutions, it's once more very clear that the only revolution is a revelation in the mind!

Kino

quick interview

- who is responsible of the death and decay of culture?
- as long as word, image and sound are utilised as mere products of commodity, meaning their reason of being is reduced to fulfill an insipid form without any connection to real emotions,

Like vessels carrying blood to a dsyfunctional heart, culture is suffering from the illness


photoblog - the photographic memory of poet 9

CLICK TO GO THERE AND BOOKMARK THE PAGE FOR RSS FEED.

ha ah

Existentialist is a poor threatened man in Uganda and various other suffering places.

insight to sound and image

my mind runs on the proliferation of image and sound,
joining on the axis of language
to witness the petrified human logic,
which i urge to face itself
with all the undercurrent effects of its own structure as a big mirror reflecting a limited form. This habitual state of mind therefore, by exposing, discards the artificiality of its own existence.

the only natural human faculty that prevails this force is poetry, either in or outside of spoken/written language.

a surrealist possesses this force.

black listed


click to view the trailer for this scum.


Some certain Sacha Baron Cohen, the twat from Channel 4 t.v. show "Da Ali G", is a vicious disrespectful cunt, nothing more than the puppet of a certain rotten bourgeoisie ideology and its lighthearted entertainment, who finds body in the discriminating character of "Boran", the caveman from Kazakhstan. A country where nobody is watching British or American television networks, which makes it easy for being the target of these knobheads, simply because, Kazakhs can be projected as the perfect 'other', out of the remote state of their culture to the western civilisation, unlike France or Greece, which have become next to nothing in the urbanism of New York, classifying as a restaurant-bistro or a holiday destination... Not to mention this reduction of culture is only a bourgeoisie trait, because they will not know anything of René Char or Mikis Theodorakis… for a country is fucking nothing without the great people who flourish there.

For the ultimate disrespect to the country of Kazakhstan and its people and more importantly, for demonstrating the evil habit of raping the humanitarian equality, the surrealist forces ensures that someone will definitely tap this silly sod along the way.


why the map of the universe for the Kino album name?

Why map of the universe? I would like to put humanity on a map, so that all the matters relating to us would exist on a concrete and concise form, leaving the abstraction of history, which haplessly fades in the dimensional linearity of time and under the bulk of everything. A neutral platform is needed in order to open up to a clear view of the conscience so that the mind can fathom all in the immediacy of images.

Obviously, this album is not about astrophysics, at all. The term is developed precisely to create a bed for the reflection of humanity, by which I am able to pinpoint to existential and subexistential events that govern our lives.








"Those who control the image rules the world", on this note, my image here does not add to the mood, but rather gain over the eyes which are becoming familiar and subconsciously recognising the attributions of its beauty in the formation of desire. A little game Hollywood invented in order to master the people of the 20th century into the new millennium of marketable members of capitalised human culture.

black listed


Enrico Fermi
invented atomic bomb
Find and liquidate, or bring back alive.

the illusion has a future.

the illusion has a future and 4 new poems added to the reserves of marvelous poetry in srrlsm.
you may find it
here.

i will try, till the last drop of my blood, to encourage
the flourishing of personality,
and discourage moulds and ghoulish replicates.

Renouncement of talent, skill and occupation.

I detest musicians, artisans, parrots, and their like,
imbeciles who learn and pose,
there are very few spirits who are capable of reinforcing the elements that trigger imagination, characteristics of brilliance,
everyone else who make music are worthless copycats, who learn it as a trade and follow fashion and attitude of the ones who genuinely were creative forces and expressed themselves with their instruments, may it be a full orchestra or a guitar.

Living in New York for a short while, clearly exhibits the sort of these miserable parasites who clutter the stages and form the current fabric of music. Music, that whore who has been raped without payment. The rest has become a poorly theater of the buffoon. First thing they forget, or never realise is to become a man who is capable of anything, anything outside of music.

I renounce all relations that I may have with these scumbags, and prepared to slap anyone who calls me a fucking musician, because I wrote the Map of the Universe in music. It's in a language that simply can carry the heavy weight of its enigma in a conspicuous manner, that can be fathomed upon lending ears, which are hauled regardless of their colour, creed, in the immediacy of the beautiful melodies which I am capable of creating.

I renounce the relationship of those legends with music, who happened to convey their spirits in the raw form of sound coming through whatever they chose suitable for manifesting their stronghold; from John Coltrane to Anouar Brahem, Léo Ferré to Syd Barrett, Stravinsky to Lennon, as I am absolutely certain that they were primarily strong sensitive human beings and were more forceful outside their music, so that the music effectively represent the same force. Everything is evident in the music, their imprint. It is easily comparable to the average, non-existent drill of common fuck-faced vermin who call themselves musicians. As far as I am concerned, they are merely bankers and butchers.

In hindsight, all of my efforts has been focused on the liberation of spirit from the sticky claws of mediocrity; the bourgeoisie, with their academy of music, film and literature… [plastic arts don't exist even to be mentioned.] The learners, working off their talent to make their hobbies their raison d'etre... well, you don't exist my dear brothers and sisters, it may take a second to disempower you for someone like
me to hold the mirror to your face and say, "here this is what you are saying"...

9

poet vs. philosopher

that inveterate dreamer;
muscled invention of wisdom
arch-angel of chaos
and gusting with breath from a different life
I shit all the theories designed for the future
by the blind mouths who like to blind eyes
fucking useless philosophers
of the modern library
your words in print are dry semen stains from your masturbation with the truth, you treat like a whore...

which is a drop in the infinite glory of the deluge
which doesn't fall at all
and has no direction, nevertheless is wet.

I own no theory non-what-so-ever
than the contradiction of my inherent shape,
as a human
and once again i am under dictation
that these words don't belong to me
but i belong to them.

A poet needs no theories.
It's whom you should be afraid of
because his occupation is not to mingle and adore language like you,
it's to destroy and pull down the curtain which sits before your
eyes which belong to others...

so perfectly sustained at a correct point in history
a philosopher is the epitome of the cancerous state
the gnawing chin,
the incompetent personage who is not a proper man
who cries at the inception of beauty
and moreover he is a fucking wanker
as far as I am concerned
and I concern myself with everything
by the way of awakening.


le poet de surrealisme

one night.
in front of the modern museum.
a parody of "
Touchez pas au grisbi"
9 in character.






















photographs by ysf.

INDEX OF POEMS by 9 and others

A great prospect to the revolution of the mind.
Index of all the poems on Srrlsm.

man eating press proudly presents

Man Eating Press starts to circulate the electric veins of the old world with the new energy of surrealist.
The first release is Barb Concerto by 9.
You can order a copy
here.

go to
ManEatingSeas press.



Andre Breton through the mouth of 9








New photographs

The photographic memory of 9 has a new issue. Click here or visit Image>Photo.

New poem in Srrlsm

IGNOBLE SOCIETY

Man Eating Seas is the proto-surrealist forces to attack on the mediocrity of dull spirits.

From this point the surrealist forces take charge.

A machine groaned

I hate stagnancy and the universal trait of the idiots; money.