Years as gold philosophy
Years as gold philosophy
sky sailing, restricted much
in sweet wallflowers known to be birds,
bonfires, charmingly cold
after-dinner stupidity
hesitation, wishing garden bells were seasons, works
which handed you the sunset
a flake, sky sea-iris
some of it lying pianos, joyful lights,
spout lips dirt-grimed lady-shining
as most multiform scripts
seeds rise, there’s sunlight
familiar rocks, somber love and God
cathedral on press sheets
red at office flanks
glass image wheels
suddenly without dusk
open you alone,
the way you ripple my eyes,
spread nothing on dead Roman wings
asking the trees for some music – fine jungle halls
to remember
slip poised, together, facing your wings,
conducting the starless sheaf, after all,
we’re finally together
BoatmEn of Seasons
Virtue clouds expand
think, serve symphonies
obliquely well, black yawning
aspiration – world through birth with mountain-billows immortal
iron scraps, white and hot, scarlet in fire and hail
restless boats pass, quiet
through a steely, sudden motionless Night
melting, sour squeamish pretence to fail
retorts, boom city noise
pierced misty rainbows
bleed their leaves all over the station,
drag forces, cleft smoke, haste love
spare dusks bend, crack pavement roses
in putrid sleep, dark tops of greed
against the poet’s distance, folk immune to infection
blur transfers, monotonous books
smell like time, licking the smoke
while somewhere beside the shops, hate-lives healing rain
jokey beggars ooze across the years
with the boatmen of seasons
Theaters his picture
A prayer, ironically whispered
while above me the suffering laugh out loud
at Madonna image from beers and cheap carpets
dissolving into water, dashed dreams
of resistance, messiahs carved in laboratory doors
white leather crystalline bedrooms
sin careen, always dead country
whisper of clocks, faces forcing lie, sparkles of life
hobbling through the relics, our corpses
of achievement, frozen-cloud floors
disastrous birds in sunless spaces
evolve in the moonlight, treading the actor’s
path to infinite wrench… either dull
or sorrowful, rooms, women, a hundred sounds
silver the eyes, tremble the audience
a prayer, ironically whispered
in lowest ink, disguising fall
her theaters his picture, feet of the world
slippery hair of provincial
murder muttering sky
Nobody’s brother
Nobody's brother, gray candle in cold sky, burning
dream horizon’s dew, dressed in symbolic birds
fever some more, sighing shriveled, dying
in colder groaning, a beautiful muscle
where roses slept of irrelevant patterns
naphthalene’s bitter vapor cast the day
into full soft deliverance, a mourning summit
I found and sang about, and seeking held into
its demise, waves of impotent walls
pain of roads in stone, healing a whore again
asking for asphalt, stamped departure
of soul, darling black glare, grief beautiful
men… street love, colors of galvanized eyelids
encasing my sand into books of leisure and lanterns
in pornographic pride, shining through my window
vibrating metallic death, stripping again, magma bulk
of ribbon starfish, the rain and spit pools
in playmate brittle collapse
hollowly wrapping humble souls in dreams
they’re not my brothers, I’m sorry
Brand new poetry and music from the author of "Siva in Rags" (Kendra Steiner Editions, 2008), "Broke Nuptial Minds" (Virgogray Press, 2009), "Hosannah Honeypots" (Kendra Steiner Editions, 2013), and other chapbooks. Also a songwriter, composer, and musician ("Second Hand Man" vinyl 2011, "Stoned Gypsy Wanderer" vinyl 2021, "Transmitter" CD 2023), and other albums.
- Strona główna
- Bandcamp
- SoundCloud
- Säure Adler
- STONED GYPSY WANDERER Vinyl
- SÄURE ADLER Vinyl
- "Bard's Woman in the Cool of the Summer Breeze" CD
- Fairyport Convent
- Gita Ra
- The Yellow Blackness
- Psychedelic Mayhem
- Bezkwit
- Interview 2024
- A.J. Kaufmann Interview by Dave Bixby
- Interview 2022
- Interview 2021
- Review: A.J. Kaufmann 'Fairyport Convent' - The Sleeping Shaman
- Reviews | Säure Adler - The Quietus
- Adam Majdecki-Janicki
10 Years of "Stoned Gypsy Wanderer"
A re-release of my classic 2014 album is coming to THE SWAMP RECORDS soon (digital only). Why another re-release? The album was re-released ...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
4 Poems
Thursday, October 16, 2008
"Suite of Longings" - complete chapbook, Berlin 2008.
Suite of Longings
suite of longings
murmured gaze
every stretching gives an ear
I-ching
on a hummingbird's wing
the oldest Earth walks away
stars anew w/ the day
every nonsense claimed her own
summers seem wintry
women kneel down
can the red look sing
granted to its night spirit's
faces
or sure of the glimmering waves
it turns and turns away
to pray
shake the remembering folk
bush out your spectacles
clean
bare and full of me
best bird-seen
best fish-swim
grieve with the hills
their autumnal voyage
in town and wintry and free
girl to the morn
and I to she
ancient marriage proceeds
suite of longings
crooked but solid
mean and meek
forever worried
pour the moonlight at the bird
lover moon-stream w/the sun
captured in your
endless run
Poker Men
pitiable day of very somebody
wooded midnights
old covered howevers
party minutes all over other's faces
below all past
Poker dollars, three men asleep
square sleep tango...
storm in rocky heavens
welcome to temperance houses
moral table ladies
desperate echoes
not equipped aflame
companions caring ascended
protecting stones
the snow will melt, we're sure of...
joining pitiable facts
strayed at midnight
great the roads
nights
spotless
of sleepers we dream here
remembrance in rude rusted minutes
sex in the hall
apparently forgotten
as the joker cards the climate
Windows Burn as Time Flies By...
chimneys gleaming
windows burn
until the time flies by
until the south-wind
comes
mysterious with leaves
& gloomy prints
white-haired figures
walk the lightnings
sure
shelters disclosed
most vividly ventured
where stands the blunt lady
ornamented
lofty favorite of his
mistress of his
carpeted eyes
windows burn as time flies by...
elegant silks
peeping through the chestnuts
tossed in black
cooled clad
rack
a little stick place spend but unbroken
Scenery Madeline
will her conjugal fingers
become sanctuary
rose-colored asylums
blubber hermit
or mother letter thing
will her twirling days
become curtains on Henry
obscuring Miss-Behavior’s
deep-cushioned love
or a grave and a kind regard
holding you painful
in her truest of seasons
in flowered arms
and impudence
scenery Madeline - never sincere
life swayed for her all around
answered, measured, done
elegant rested humors
queenly on their spirits table
lead carelessly into oblivion
the music yields and I of the evening
release her tear-stained volumes
soars says thoughts
staggering fawning come
the hermit drinks up his tea
and leaves
The Wreck
Wind and slide toward that roof heart
lord, her being rent...
blank measureless proclaims
begin
again
slide toward the control:
dissolving churches
exploding magic:
all wanderers read the shorelines
that roof heart of hers
while the mid-noon kindly banks
his crowds in
Hollywood
smiles
death laughs:
Time to be his strand
Shingle be his stand...
Harbor monks endure the play
wanderers admire the score
under night's wailing star dawn
yet
rock perchance the worldwide limbs
rock perchance the roof
vainly as time
soft as the river
Life:
bare shade flower
keen on
aware of
the wreck
Pause
pause the sounds
the doors
unmeasured neighbors
lay in slopes
for the patient
pyre
skies
changeful
hands
tell me of my vain response
animated summer
tranquillized beaming
and clay
sun awaits your foundations
where immortal gloom lays fevered
without birth
pause with soft anthems
one deepening ear
one friendly hand
chilling winds soiling the soul
yearnings throb
fade
flutter
vocal eye:
the twilight's yours
to kiss
Mountains Are Known
contents come of high virgin's
bloodless
tale
of her strive he only placed
a decent funeral
her ivy wars
death to old
freedom to young,
confused
islands as art
w/ all our assistance
from ships
ships only move
from women
women just flee
in devotion of our rivals
true freedom
rests
and mountains we are
are known
forever
Ship-Shaped Hearts
one burst over to the ship-shaped hearts
gazed through the Sea
trembled doomed tide
rippled to pieces
whitened dancing fairies
and their perfect pair
slid darkened, far sleeping
far-flung
and desired
blooming but from their waters
bosom
paths of woe unexplored:
demons wreck
roar
on steel
in ruby
weaving their
frolic earth vision
mirrors
light morrow's gold in astray
a brook on marked mariners
one burst over to the ship-shaped hearts
gazed through the Sea:
be there skulls
be there owl flame...
deep tissues specter
the sky bloomed
down lady
deep Adieu,
beloved!
No deep murmur though:
entertain slippery eyes
one burst over to the ship-shaped hearts
swollen by
scream peace
explosion
Early Stranger Dangerous
she boys the boy, employs
his dreamt-abouts
trumpets take pleasing numbers
eyes full of death, unharmed
razor, razor
eyes
God is sun
that men reply
arrow dog
the village fool
dreamt-abouts
which work so cool
laughing gun halls
trumpet wives
wrinkles top down
herd of cedars
on intent
the bright & shocking
pain
rattle all
as spoken word
descends
losing faith in it
losing faith in men
beneath the Cow the curious go
I ain't got no Ace
to show
In Their Distant More
leave essentials
the triviality of action
figure in
vent affections
statuary, faintly comic
political in human form
the unimportant baldness
human false
permanent moderns
great tragic derived
long-distant enjoyment
...time was
was time...
predominated
in proportion interests
intrinsically something
capriciously entered
his contact
his actions
...time was
was time...
in their distant more
Limp Assistants
see either air or mood
kindest ever deaths
joys, misfortunes...whose the days
really are
idle lessons & limp assistants
countless regions of care
ether friendly children
whistle out
the poor sage's prayer
matchless heats heaped in thousands
scrapped to bits
elusively
still
you and your pleasure:
useful
true
salutable
sessional subjects
fill up dead seasons
lovers to little
constraint
wrought the wheel
to guide the rich
only to their
doom
daily hats
and limp assistants
all we ever get
Seraphs of Youth
the bright
with that side
linger onto where she lies
to the stains of a very young song
princes, passions
pretty windows
blood
cot
graves
and doomed, so doomed your sister sits
nervous moth of never-doors
approves his swelling
oozing
grace
(pilgrims at the Pride Lake's bottom...
singing... guiltless...white & plain...
ever to the same refrain...)
zigzags hounds
to clean the blood
sully, grisly pot
strayed a-lot... we laugh a lot
buzzing to all this cold
and Satan’s little fly
some pallid shade
of a room
from Tide to the bluntest pain
explains
again & again
his name...
lame the disease... furniture screams
linens the door with its crimson
brigades
astonishing seraphs of youth...
Little Girl, in a Room
little girl, in a room
shakes of all world's disasters
from her painted-brown shoulder
green colored sheets
eyes of elation
misses the street bus
at six
moves on
sits down
dreams of a cock
then chooses
the lark
moves not from the room,
leaves all the doors open
the windows closed
& heating off
to feel the snow as is
becomes his prostitute
sailor
favorite reluctant sorrow
the sky moves on as she walks
& sidewalks are painted
w/ all of her wasteland's glory
reminds me a name
that sticks to no face
but floats freely seated
there, in my chair
there, on my knees
forced to inhale
(her spirit's as old
as the mountains of Spain
the great Andalusia
or first America's
evil)
dreams of a lark
then chooses
a panther
cocks crow dawn
yeah, a little red rooster
at sunset
Friday, October 3, 2008
"Peace / Spokój" (Victoria Park, Berlin 2008)
Peace
Victoria Park, Berlin 2008
I value peace… spitting out pieces of teeth
scraps of broken vinyl
I deal with the beast
on a kitchen chair
tuning my banjo, smiling to the photograph
of an American Poetess
I make coffee – it smells of gasoline, the city
crawls up my veins, the spider-pump
flashes cold electric light
laying shades on faces behind the window
a gigantic eye collects
the evidence of madness – searching through files
isolated wards
heaps of yellowed scrapbooks
I value peace… counting blood drops
on my room divider
Spokój
Victoria Park, Berlin 2008
Cenię spokój… wypluwam kawałki zębów
resztki połamanego winylu
rozprawiam się z bestią
na kuchennym krześle
stroję banjo i uśmiecham się do zdjęcia
Amerykańskiej Poetki
robię kawę – śmierdzi benzyną, miasto
wtłacza się w żyły, pompka-pająk
rozbłyska zimnym elektrycznym światłem
kładąc cień na twarzy za oknem
gigantyczne oko zbiera dowody
szaleństwa – przeszukuje kartoteki
oddziały zamknięte
sterty pożółkłych notatników
cenię spokój… liczę kropli krwi
na meblościance