beckett_samples_2.txt

and not as though

from outside

from beyond



to woman engage

in any overt act

that might be called sexual

in this case by this name

or by that of another

whose pleasure

is to engage

in any act that might be called sexual

in this case by this name

or by that of another

whose pleasure

is to engage

in any act that might be called sexual

in this case by this name

or by that of another

whose pleasure

is to engage

in any act that might be called sexual

in this case by this name

or by that of
======================================== SAMPLE 25 ========================================
I will make my house a hot summer field

and the earth white with the splash of a typhoon

and the dead of night

my dog is healthy and well,

and he is happy here in the old barn

and the old heart of the Roman Catholic Church

and the old star of the Catholic Church

that held the American flag

all these years

until the day that shall be

the day that shall be

nothing but the wind blowing

sucking in theto close the books and quiet the hearts

and the old church

and the old heart of the Catholic Church

and the old star of the Catholic Church

that held the American flag

all these years

until the day that shall be

nothing but the wind

sucking in theto close the books and quiet the hearts

and the old church

and the old heart of the Catholic Church

and the old heart of the American flag

all these years

until the day that shall be

nothing but the wind

the wind making the rounds

in my head all these years

until I die





Da Tagte Es




redeem the surrogate goodbyes

the sheet astream in your hand

who have no more for the land

and the glass unmisted above your eyes





Echo’s Bones




asylum under my tread all this day

their muffled revels as the flesh falls

breaking without fear or favour wind

the gantelope of sense and nonsense run

taken by the maggots for what they are



* * *





Yoke of Liberty




The lips of her desire are grey

and parted like a silk loop

threatening

a slight wanton wound.

She preys wearily

on sensitive wild things

proud to be torn

by the grave crouch of her beauty.

But she will die and her snare

tendered so patiently

to my tamed watchful sorrow

will break and hang

in a pitiful crescent.





Antipepsis




And the number was uneven

In the green of holy Stephen

Where before the ass the cart

Was harnessed for a foreign part.

In this should not be seen the sign

Of hasard, no, but of design,

For of the two, by common consent,

The cart was the more intelligent.

Whose exceptionally pia

Mater hatched this grand idea

Is not known. He or she,

Smiling, unmolested, free,

By this one act the mind become

A providential vacuum,

Continues still to stroll amok,

To eat, drink, piss, shit, fart and fuck,

Assuming that the fucking season

Did not expire with that of reason.

Now through the city spreads apace

The cry: A thought has taken place!

A human thought! Ochone! Ochone!

Purissima Virgo! We’re undone!

Bitched, buggered and bewilderèd!

Bring forth your dead! Bring forth your dead!





Cascando





1


why not merely the despaired of

occasion of

wordshed



is it not better abort than be barren



the hours after you are gone are so leaden

they will always start dragging too soon

the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want

bringing up the bones the old loves

sockets filled once with eyes like yours

all always is it better too soon than never

the black want splashing their faces

saying again nine days never floated the loved

nor nine months

nor nine lives





2


saying again

if you do not teach me I shall not learn

saying again there is a last

even of last times

last times of begging

last times of loving

of knowing not knowing pretending

a last even of last times of saying

if you do not love me I shall not be loved

if I do not love you I shall not love



the churn of stale words in the heart again

love love love thud of the old plunger

pestling the unalterable

whey of words



terrified again

of not loving

of loving and not you

of being loved and not by you

of knowing
======================================== SAMPLE 26 ========================================
2. I lie on the quay stump with a screw driver in my stump

3. I break down in a titter of despite

a startle;

a jittery wait for the overachiever

who shall not take the plunge

in the churn of idling

and for the better of all, the break-out sound of trucks

pounding along in pairs,

like a Ritter on fire retardants,

like in that old adage, never give way,

never allow up, never let up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

never allow up,

no compromise, no thievery, no thievery

that alters feet the water's going in

the pan the ink is going in the syrups,

the syrups all the trouble of making sure

the ink is going in the syrups all the time

all the trouble of taking the day off up hill and down dale

and the tide being in the right proportion

the tide always in the right place at the right time

soliciting the will to act



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



at will



At any rate, as we went down the main road, through the green of hope and reason,

biding our time without rancour or favour;

without second thoughts or protests.

Next:

a lamentable family of grey verminous hens,

perishing out in the sunk field,

trembling, half asleep, against the closed door of a shed,

with no means of roosting.

The great mushy toadstool,

green-black,

oozing up after me,

soaking up the tattered sky like an ink of pestilence,

in my skull the wind going fetid,

the water …



Next:

on the hill down from the Fox and Geese into Chapelizod

a small malevolent goat, exiled on the road,

remotely pucking the gate of his field;

the Isolde Stores a great perturbation of sweaty heroes,

in their Sunday best,

come hastening down for a pint of nepenthe or moly or half and half

from watching the hurlers above in Kilmainham.



Blotches of doomed yellow in the pit of the Liffey;

the fingers of the ladders hooked over the parapet,

soliciting;

a slush of vigilant gulls in the grey spew of the sewer.



Ah the banner

the banner of meat bleeding

on the silk of the seas and the arctic flowers

that do not exist.





Enueg II




world world world world

and the face grave

cloud against the evening



de mor
======================================== SAMPLE 27 ========================================
thrice he came

the undertaker’s man

shaking off his targe

and hastening on foot

tires marmalade’re

all heaven in the sphincter

and gold urn

smoke of the gold plated syringe

the gold in the bloom of the bloom

that is all there is to it

oh the clonic earth



fix this pothook of beauty on this image

plush hymens on your eyeballs



fix this pothook of beauty on this image

glittering adobo on the platform

glittering like a magnet for the will to do and say



fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth



fix this clonic earth

fix this clonic earth

fix this clonic earth

fix this clonic earth

fix this clonic earth



fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth with a yo-heave-ho of delight

out from the dead land



the dead land





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





fix this clonic earth





(chuckling again)



on this bank of a main road

in the heart of the mountains

I will put the pan in the pot

and bring the ale

and the wine

round the corner

and let the rain fall

////



on that bank of a main road

in the heart of the mountains

I will put the pan in the pot

and bring the ale

and the wine

round the corner

and let the rain

////



on that bridge over the Channel

into the Ganges

where before God and Peter were buried

there were no Kings this Sunday

nor the Frôleur who love him





why not of the place and the day

or the globe,

the other day

when alone with all the other dead

sparkling with desire

a thousand times more than this

in my wild revel

thrice he and she were again

there again,

in her place,

on the barge

carrying her mange

manuring the livid lantern of the barge

phantoms offering now on the barge

soaking up the tattered sky

seal the eyes from the the scuttling boat

open the gates of her jail

and lead us all the way





to Church

on the bank of the Crystal Bridge

a smallish malevolent voice

that says
======================================== SAMPLE 28 ========================================
To make things worse, she was with us as well as behind the counter of the old house.

She was full of herself and of gladness.

She was afraid.



She held out her hand towards the city and the sea and the mountains and the sky.

Then she would stop and hug her child and hug the pin through her heart.

Then she would put her trust in the starlight and kiss the soil.

Then she would put her trust in the magic of the ballet and the wave and the greetings and the sing-alongs.

Then she would put her trust in the silence of the little black and white and the life of the noblest and most perfect singer.

She took the step she did because she was afraid.

She took the step she did because she was sad.

She took the step she did because she was happy.

No matter, leave her.



(Markle on the viper's trundle!)



The Vulture




past and present



as to life and death



as to the mind or the body



as to the spirit or the object



if need be





for the present



at Parnell Bridge on the bank of the Elbe



a small malevolent goat

soliciting

his space above the road

and providing

for his gone

as is

the mind or the body



the goat courses its act

under the ruined bank of the Elbe

and the face of the bridge

shaking with rage

the great plastic bottle

too late to brighten the beam

come through

no trace shall be left of it

in this world destroyed

and the human race

putting the pan in its place

and running



in a malevolent spirit

spreading his love

athroning the steeples

the sycomores

shaking with rage

the great white and shining like a star

in her place

the malebranca knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda for all the expert awe

that felts her nubile pitiful mammon snatch the lilies

the jade and the rose petals from the rose petals

in her lust for male organs she brews the jade and the rose petals

sodden purse she is,

white and innocent,

stooping to the black firmament of trees for fear of being overtaken

she is torn between her love and her quarry

she creeps softly down the promenaders' path

tendered by black and white to secure

for her the lilies the violet and the fern

and the mold of her home life

permanently opening the black and white

books in her hand

white and innocent,

stooping to the black firmament of the woods for

their attention

is her hour of need

and her hour of desperation

when the dark gallery of a house

shutters its eyes

asunder the bag she is purse

the bag she is stinking

she thinks she is dying she is taking up her life

and the sky is shifting grey

she is parting at the last second

before her time



asylum under the rose petals

its nails gouged out

it is evening in Dublin

they are not my customers

they are in town

bringing their loved one to Dublin

bringing up their dead





Saint-Lô

viverso

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!'"

(Jean-Baptiste Beaubriand)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!'"

(Dortmunder …!)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(John the Ripper)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(Youth the Ripper)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(Leider the Ripper)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(François the Ripper)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(Joseph the Ripper)

‘Oh my gosh! Hearted!‘

(Gaulleur the Ripper)

â
======================================== SAMPLE 29 ========================================

I have a dirty I say this because I have to it

because I have to it

because I have to it

because I have to it

because I have to it

because I have to it

because I have to it



so on

on the right hand side

handling the left shoulder

sidling up to its bursting

it is useless to say so

it is better

to say so

it is better

it is better

it is better

it is better

it is better



for the fool it is better to say

there is a problem than to say

there is a solution than to say

there is no problem than to say

there is a measure than to say

there is a second than the first

nor to the left of the fourth

nor to the top of the ladder

nor above the petal of the high throne

nor bottom of the rafflesia

nor above the rose petal of the flower

and down again

on the inscrutable rock

the hidden door of the skull

that no one has seen or heard from

where there has been no trouble

no sign or signal



the churn of stale words in the heart again

and again



sodden packet of Churchman

muzzling the cairn

it is worse than dream

the light randy slut can’t be easy

this clonic earth

all these phantoms shuddering out of focus

it is useless to close the eyes

all the chords of the earth broken like a woman pianist’s

the toads abroad again on their rounds

sidling up to their snares

the fairy-tales of Meath ended

so say your prayers now and go to bed

your prayers before the lamps start to sing behind the larches

here at these knees of stone

then to bye-bye on the bones





Serena III




fix this pothook of beauty on this palette

you never know it might be final



or leave her she is paradise and then

plush hymens on your eyeballs



or on Butt Bridge blush for shame

the mixed declension of those mammae

cock up thy moon thine and thine only

up up up to the star of evening

swoon upon the arch-gasometer

on Misery Hill brand-new carnation

swoon upon the little purple

house of prayer

something heart of Mary

the Bull and Pool Beg that will never meet

not in this world



whereas dart away through the cavorting scapes

bucket o’er Victoria Bridge that’s the idea

slow down slink down the Ringsend Road

Irishtown Sandymount puzzle find the Hell Fire

the Merrion Flats scored with a thrillion sigmas

Jesus Christ Son of God Saviour His Finger

girls taken strippin that’s the idea

on the Bootersgrad breakwind and water

the tide making the dun gulls in a panic

the sands quicken in your hot heart

hide yourself not in the Rock keep on the move

keep on the move





Malacoda




thrice he came

the undertaker’s man

impassible behind his scutal bowler

to measure

is he not paid to measure

this incorruptible in the vestibule

this malebranca knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda for all the expert awe

that felts his perineum mutes his signal

sighing up through the heavy air

must it be it must be it must be

find the weeds engage them in the garden

hear she may see she need not



to coffin

with assistant ungulata

find the weeds engage their attention

hear she must see she need not



to cover

to be sure cover cover all over

your targe allow me hold your sulphur

divine dogday glass set fair

stay Scarmilion stay stay

lay this Huysum on the box

mind the imago it is he

hear she must see she must

all aboard all souls

half-mast aye aye



nay




Da Tagte Es


======================================== SAMPLE 30 ========================================
especial care must be taken not to let the fiddle play



the hooked eye

tear its heart out

the grey flayed urn

shaking its strata

breaking without fear or favour wind

the broken like a Virgin

against its natal chastisement

the unalterable law

is not unalterable





to coffin

open the tattered scroll

all heaven and earth

whereas to the skull

pine down its stem

and grant lightning

and grant nought



to cover

to be sure cover all over

your skull

your skull always has been

your skull always will be

your skull always has been



your skull always will be

your skull always has been



your skull always will be

your skull always will be



your skull always will be

your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be



your skull always will be





My bones are gums are that

my flesh is that

there is no going back on

no going back on

no going out

onto the treadings of these nails

the scream of the old poor axe

sucking in my bloated lantern

stooping to the hag

she thinks she is dying she is ashamed



she is ashamed





and let the tiger go on smiling

in our hearts it is not our day

there is a catch

the tiger escapes from its slipper

the ham sandwich is taken home

with a parcel of land

for the American American

who before long has got along with so little

he is ready to go out

and eat mangrove

salt and pepper

the flesh trampled under the sun

the juices like a Ritter

in the heart a Ritter

who before long has loved

a day at Stürmers

and who, sad or not,

tires overtight for miles on end

no home without a highway

for the brain its home

made in the dust



and the signaculum an apochia

glittering like an anthrax

on the hearts of the dead

marks made in the wood

for the signaculum

to be sure still the signaculum

but there it is,

on the other side of the barrier

saying again’s that’s better

’ave I said that’

’And why not’?

’And why not’cell’

’And why not’o be patient?

’And why noto be patient’

and not be with me?




and not be with me at all times






Da Tagte Es




whence the ass and the hair the face

the face the organ

the tissue the

ass the aetiology the all-important blood
======================================== SAMPLE 31 ========================================

I don’t know what’s going on in that old boy cave

the bones of a child, the bones of a parakeet,

sodden bag over the pestling of a gun,

sodden liver, and the like.

Then for miles only wind

and the weals creeping alongside on the water

and the cave broken into squalid fauns

like a ghost town on the outside

but on the inside she stands still

like a woman making to cover her breasts

and the little purple stone

that she is holding up the gate.



I stopped and walked along by the river

till in the summer evening

and within days a homeless man

gogglingly alive

till he was gone

and where’the faun’s dead

did not speak



and what

of the chicken and ham

that were left behind

when the cave was razed to the ground

and the skeletons floated dead

sidling up to heaven

and the eyes wide open

asking the prayer of the dead





Alba




before morning you shall be here

and Dante and the Logos and all strata and mysteries closed

sidling up above the great cathedral

and all quiet pastures



and before morning you shall be here

and St. Peter the Red

and the Baptists and the Nicene Creed

and the only music that will be heard here

even if you do not listen.



Exegetical




before morning you shall be here

and St. Peter the Red

and the Apostles and all the loutish that will be seen

if you do not love this world






Sanies I




before morning you shall be here

and St. Peter the Red

and the Apostles

and the Nicene Creed

and the only music that will be heard here

even if you do not love it.





Exegetical




thrice he came

the undertaker’s man

impassible behind his scutal bowler

to measure

is he not paid to measure

this incorruptible in the vestibule

this malebranca knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda knee-deep in the lilies

Malacoda for all the expert awe

that felts his perineum mutes his signal

sighing up through the heavy air

must it be it must be it must be

find the weeds engage them in the garden

hear she may see she need not



to make any sense of it all she must

this puzzle engage the attention of

the public eye

it is not for nothing that she learn

she must learn it or she will not learn

all people learn it are they sinners

they are weaned out of fruit

they are weaned out of flesh

they are they Baptists they are they Scientists they are they

they Are they not



at the faint sound so brief

it is not taken

nor is it soon past nine

oh the sound so brief

it is not till the hour of stillness

until the claw of the foot

find the weeds engage their attention

they must become sycophants

they must love love love

love love thud of the motor

it is the snap of a single bone



on the bosom of the dam

the kibitzing of the bimbo

sighing up through the heavy air

must it be it must be

it is it must be

it must be

it must be

it must be

it must be

it must be

it must be





nay





Da Tagte Es




redeem the surrogate goodbyes

the sheet astream in your hand

who have no more for the land

and the glass unmisted above your eyes





Echo’s Bones




asylum under my tread

their quiet enjoyment

unseal their happy associations

they are I’m sure they are





* * *





AN SATIATROPHE




no I believe every word of it I assure you

I shall find the inconsistency and the gladness

in every word

that I may remove the uneasiness

the un
======================================== SAMPLE 32 ========================================
The dog is out of control

the space not ripe for breathing

the grey doorknob of smart old male

ring the phone ringing

sparkling beest of all noises

to learn more about this world than any other

learn to love love this goddamn animal

love love this flamingo

it is useless to love

love love this fucking gull

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is so



Serena III




fix it!



my stiff, pale double-breasted turd

sink it up with the pestle

it all boils down to blood!

redeem it!



Vire will wind in other shadows

unborn through the bright ways tremble

and the old mind ghost-forsaken

sink back into place

my cracked and aged skull

its wayling topographical wonder

revels in its dissolution

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love

it is useless to love



the old heart the old heart

there is no more music

the old heart the old heart

the old heart the old heart

it is gone now



it is useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love



the old soul the old soul

there is no more music

the old heart the old heart

it is gone now



it is useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love



the old heart the old heart

there is no more music

the old heart the old heart

it is gone now



it is useless to love

it is not useless to love

it is not useless to love



the shell of the old mind

tired of living

it is time to lie down

Nothing more

the muscles atrophy

the liver fails

it is time to eat

nothing more

the muscles atrophy

the chords are broken

the air is so rich it is crushing

the eyes so red

they are turning blue

they are burning through their vitals

they are saying …

come on in

let it be

you are the one

you are the one

you are in the past

you are not now

you were there before

you were in the past

you were in the past

you were not now



what would be the most terrible thing

a terrible idea

to be so wrong

so sudden

so far out of focus

as from outside

outside

what would be the most terrible

thing

to do

to do

this would be the act of eating

the act of drinking

this would be the act of moving

tired of living

this would be the act of moving

up left to right

sidling up to the sky

the sign
======================================== SAMPLE 33 ========================================
I don’t know what’s in it

it all boils down to blood of lamb


Saint-Lô

Vire will wind in other shadows

unborn through the bright ways tremble

and the old mind ghost-forsaken

sink into its havoc

my way is in the sand flowing

between the shingle and the dune

the summer rain rains on my life

on me my life harrying fleeing

to its beginning to its end

my peace is there in the midst of quiet

when the wind rouses it will be only the second

of three times

and the last of seven times

so on through the city

until I’m dead?"





Serena II




before morning you shall be here

and the smart one behind the other

clipped like a pederast as to her slit

revealing her perineum

that spoilt blood of a infant

that she may not see and do nothing but stare

out across the Bay of Bengal

and the chagrin of the caught-napping dog

that she may not be caught up in the rush

of streets and alleys and farms

and the algum-trees and the flowers

that do not exist.





Sanies II




there was a happy land

the American Bar

in Rue Mouffetard

there were red eggs there

I have a dirty I say henorrhoids

coming from the bath

the steam the delight the sherbet

is there no going back on

there was a happy land

the American Bar

in Rue Mouffetard

a small but lively house

with a few rich friends

clipped like a pederast as to their bosoms

clipped like a pederast as to their chastisement

breasting on the fire in the old man’s

this is the impression I get

when I find out who she is

she is I’m sure you did

but you did not find out

until you were there

it was the autumn of your life

you were so loved there

that you forgot you were there

you loved her there so much you forgot you were there

you loved her so much you got used to her

she loved him there so damn him away

it was a terrible mistake

he was afraid of the dog

he loved her so much he went on

playing fetch with his ladders

saying again and again

if he did not love her he would not love her

if he did not love her he would not love her

if he did not love her he would not love her



at Parnell Road

a gravely wounded Ritter was stopped

and asked

why not go on in the meantime

going by the signpost

next to the canal

and signpost again

asking why not

on the other end of the canal

and signpost

still another four or five more

or six more on the bonnet

and say go on

if you do not go on in the meantime

you shall never be found





Sanies III




this clonic earth



is where the earth comes in

where the whales eat the fish

the gold in the gold in the harbour

the eyes the light the glory

it all boils down to blood of lamb

and the blessed lamb of her who has no need of it

and the lamb of her begging

who has no need of it and is not loved

by it and does not love it



this clonic earth



is where the earth comes in

where the whales eat the fish

the gold in the gold in the harbour

the eyes the light the glory

it all boils down to blood of lamb

and the blessed lamb of her who has no need of it

and the lamb of her begging

who has no need of it and is not loved





Sanies IV




this clonic earth



is where the wind comes in

the clear hot summer sky

that ghost-forsakenowsenshes away

at the foot of the hill

sucking in my dirty clothes

my skinny pale infant tightrope

shivering in the sun

it is useless to move

I will not allow you in

on the crags below