s./j. goldner (March 2nd,1984 / USA)
Biography of s./j. goldner
how you compose what you organize is where the art comes in.
What lasts is the
interpretation of beauty
and not beauty itself
Unhinged and uncanny
poetic and prolific
blindsighted by inhibition
curtailed by ambition.
Trailing her dissolving glory over each hard-won barricade -
Only to fade anew..
I never saw a wild thing,
Sorry for itself.
A small bird will dropp dead from a bough,
Without ever having felt sorry for itself.
- D.H. Lawrence
I know something now
About subject, object, verb
And about one word that fails
For lack of substance.
- Fanny Howe
Turn away; check your manicure;
Pull on your gloves. Take time; make sure
The hat brim curves though the hat's straight.
Give her your arm. Let the fools wait;
They act like they've someplace to go.
Take the stairs, now. Self-control. Slow.
A slight limp; just enough to see,
Pass on, and infect history.
The rest is silence. Left like sperm
In a stranger's gut, waiting its term,
Each thought, each step lies; the roots spread.
They'll believe in us when we're dead.
When we took 'Red Berlin' we found
We always worked best underground.
So; the vile body turns to spirit
That speaks soundlessly. They'll hear it.
And the dream - and once, I remember,
it seemed I was the dream -
the dream tilts up to pour me out.
- William Matthews
I am impossible, I know it,
a fan with a clattering blade loose,
a car with no second gear.
it's not really quantity
it's more about versatility
Ultimate conundrum 1
Ultimate conundrum 2
wants to fuck;
the mind doesn't.
Ultimate conundrum 3
I'm exhausted from being
and fed up
with being someone I'm not.
She left a note on the bedroom door.
''If I'm out, bring me to.'' - james d. morrison
There is another world,
but it is in this one. - Paul Eluard
As the knife-grinder pedals and pedals,
You whisper: I know nothing
Of what became of her. - Cyrus Cassells
What pattern governs this surface, inscrutable as the ocean?
- 21 and rising
- 3: 17 am: I have just realized
- 40 oz to conformity
- 80's child
- a No-Show Drive-in
- a rose in Birth
- An argument against having and wanting
- April Music
- Assed out
- Autumn Gust
- ballerina hues: haiku
Handprint on a wave
She knew how memory worked.
Last time she had seen him
he had been perfected
Ly etched in her mind;
She didn’t want to replace that
with anything less
Than what she had known.
She knew how memory worked—
How memory faded