PIANO/GUITAR BLUES - 12-12-04 and Tristan Tzara Proclamation Without Pretension

Tristan Tzara Proclamation Without Pretension 

Cinema Calendar Of The Abstract Heart - Tristan Tzara  


the fibres give in to your starry warmtha lamp is called green and seescarefully stepping into a season of feverthe wind has swept the rivers' magicand i've perforated the nerveby the clear frozen lakehas snapped the sabrebut the dance round terrace tablesshuts in the shock of the marble shuddernew sober


Tristan Tzara 


 Tristan Tzara 
Proclamation Without Pretension    Art is going to sleep for a new world to be born"ART"-parrot word-replaced by DADA,PLESIOSAURUS, or handkerchief


The talent THAT CAN BE LEARNED makes thepoet a druggist TODAY the criticismof balances no longer challenges with resemblances


Hypertrophic painters hyperaes-theticized and hypnotized by the hyacinthsof the hypocritical-looking muezzins


CONSOLIDATE THE HARVEST OF EX-ACT CALCULATIONS


Hypodrome of immortal guarantees: there isno such thing as importance there is no transparenceor appearance


MUSICIANS SMASH YOUR INSTRUMENTSBLIND MEN take the stage


THE SYRINGE is only for my understanding. I write because it isnatural exactly the way I piss the way I'm sick


ART NEEDS AN OPERATION


Art is a PRETENSION warmed by theTIMIDITY of the urinary basin, the hysteria bornin THE STUDIO


We are in search ofthe force that is direct pure soberUNIQUE we are in search of NOTHINGwe affirm the VITALITY of every IN-STANT


the anti-philosophy of spontaneous acrobatics


At this moment I hate the man who whispersbefore the intermission-eau de cologne-sour theatre. THE JOYOUS WIND


If each man says the opposite it is because he isright


Get ready for the action of the geyser of our blood-submarine formation of transchromatic aero-planes, cellular metals numbered inthe flight of images


above the rules of theand its control


BEAUTIFUL


It is not for the sawed-off impswho still worship their navel


Tristan Tzara 



The Great Lament Of My Obscurity Three    where we live the flowers of the clocks catch fire and the plumes encircle the brightness in the distant sulphur morning the cows lick the salt liliesmy sonmy sonlet us always shuffle through the colour of the worldwhich looks bluer than the subway and astronomywe are too thinwe have no mouthour legs are stiff and knock togetherour faces are formeless like the starscrystal points without strength burned basilicamad : the zigzags cracktelephonebite the rigging liquefythe arcclimbastralmemorytowards the north through its double fruitlike raw fleshhunger fire blood


Tristan Tzara 



To Make A Dadist Poem    Take a newspaper.Take some scissors.Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.Cut out the article.Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.Shake gently.Next take out each cutting one after the other.Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.The poem will resemble you.And there you are--an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.


Tristan Tzara 



Vegetable Swallow    two smiles meet towardsthe child-wheel of my zealthe bloody baggage of creaturesmade flesh in physical legends-lives


the nimble stags storms cloud overrain falls under the scissors ofthe dark hairdresser-furiouslyswimming under the clashing arpeggios


in the machine's sap grassgrows around with sharp eyeshere the share of our caressesdead and departed with the waves


gives itself up to the judgment of timeparted by the meridian of hairsnon strikes in our handsthe spices of human pleasures


Tristan Tzara