FLOWERS & FLOODS: A POEM FOR KEN RUSSELL R.I.P. ( 1927 - 2011 )
Written by Henrik Aeshna on Wednesday the 13th of July 2016
breaking news: solar flare sparks biggest eruption ever seen on sun... un étrange phénomène près de mercure
ken russell
venereal messiah of british cinema
drowned nuns & angels into roaring lsd kaleidoscopes
& made sex with an aborted christ to the sound of lizst & debussy
isadora duncan's arms were not clichéd ketchup buddhas
like those we're used to seein' in hollywood & co.
but real floral contaminations
devils in the raw
whose blood had sublimely turned to nitroglycerin
or some other "secret" substance even more deadly & dangerous than fire & poison
at the exact moment she discovered dance
no matter how bitter the dew of her youth had grown
she had found at last her divine syringe
the sharp key to all of her dramas
her crystal fix
pure
& inviolate
just as frida kahlo's skeleton was her piano keyboard frictioned by a sharp metal pin
her sufi ney flute whose music passed through her bones
a carnival of raging colors nightmarish visions
rapin' herself
drainin' herself away
or as in other cases an intraosseous infusion in which 'a sharp needle is injected through
the bone's hard cortex
& into the soft marrow interior which
allows immediate access to the vascular system'
& when i think of art
one thing only comes to my twisted mind
which is a flammable symphony soaked w/ absinthe
or w/ that same dangerous feverish 'substance' i talked about
an incarnated p-a-n-d-e-m-o-n-i-u-m
& when the lightning strikes & the formicary catches fire
there will be mass hysteria secret wolves fools entities comets blasphemies
& reactionaries throwin' dildos & bibles at the scene, burnin' it all down
like at the première of buñuel's l'age d'or at studio 28
& strung out beasts priests nuns whores shamans poltergeists nymphomaniacs pyromaniacs
lycanthropes nympholeptics & pismires runnin' amuck fuckin' howlin' jumpin' off fire escapes
dancin' like melting dalis & dahlias born to crash burn & die
leave nothing than shattered mirrors & ashes
a perennial mark on the consciousness of things
the report of a soul's journey into the ancient night
or how the madman blew off mental rooftops to reveal the great open thundering skies
instead of windin' up eternally petrified in pyramids & museums
or hangin' like smashed guitars crucified banksies & basquiats on movie stars holiday mansions walls
or jerkin' off easy catchy-clammy slam rhymes
that is
things fallin' out of orbit like a holy jazz-anomaly's eyes playin' & sweatin' by the
canal side under a hail of fireworks & shooting stars
mergin' into the jungle's
halluci-neons
blue moon bohemian love sighs entwined w/ the sordid stuffy industrial breeze
a sun storm
gripped by a fiery frenzy of animal passion & obscure magic
the secret door the veins the pulsation
unravelin' both language & the world thru the flesh the flesh the flesh of all the senses
as if in an epidemic outburst of colors gestures rhythms sensations
& as if they had unlocked the secret of flowers
& floods
montmartre, december 10th, 2011, 6am
ken russell
venereal messiah of british cinema
drowned nuns & angels into roaring lsd kaleidoscopes
& made sex with an aborted christ to the sound of lizst & debussy
isadora duncan's arms were not clichéd ketchup buddhas
like those we're used to seein' in hollywood & co.
but real floral contaminations
devils in the raw
whose blood had sublimely turned to nitroglycerin
or some other "secret" substance even more deadly & dangerous than fire & poison
at the exact moment she discovered dance
no matter how bitter the dew of her youth had grown
she had found at last her divine syringe
the sharp key to all of her dramas
her crystal fix
pure
& inviolate
just as frida kahlo's skeleton was her piano keyboard frictioned by a sharp metal pin
her sufi ney flute whose music passed through her bones
a carnival of raging colors nightmarish visions
rapin' herself
drainin' herself away
or as in other cases an intraosseous infusion in which 'a sharp needle is injected through
the bone's hard cortex
& into the soft marrow interior which
allows immediate access to the vascular system'& when i think of art
one thing only comes to my twisted mind
which is a flammable symphony soaked w/ absinthe
or w/ that same dangerous feverish 'substance' i talked about
an incarnated p-a-n-d-e-m-o-n-i-u-m
& when the lightning strikes & the formicary catches fire
there will be mass hysteria secret wolves fools entities comets blasphemies
& reactionaries throwin' dildos & bibles at the scene, burnin' it all down
like at the première of buñuel's l'age d'or at studio 28
& strung out beasts priests nuns whores shamans poltergeists nymphomaniacs pyromaniacs
lycanthropes nympholeptics & pismires runnin' amuck fuckin' howlin' jumpin' off fire escapes
dancin' like melting dalis & dahlias born to crash burn & die
leave nothing than shattered mirrors & ashes
a perennial mark on the consciousness of things
the report of a soul's journey into the ancient night
or how the madman blew off mental rooftops to reveal the great open thundering skies
instead of windin' up eternally petrified in pyramids & museums
or hangin' like smashed guitars crucified banksies & basquiats on movie stars holiday mansions walls
or jerkin' off easy catchy-clammy slam rhymes
that is
things fallin' out of orbit like a holy jazz-anomaly's eyes playin' & sweatin' by the
canal side under a hail of fireworks & shooting stars
mergin' into the jungle's
halluci-neons
blue moon bohemian love sighs entwined w/ the sordid stuffy industrial breeze
a sun storm
gripped by a fiery frenzy of animal passion & obscure magic
the secret door the veins the pulsation
unravelin' both language & the world thru the flesh the flesh the flesh of all the senses
as if in an epidemic outburst of colors gestures rhythms sensations
& as if they had unlocked the secret of flowers
& floods
montmartre, december 10th, 2011, 6am
