Hello compatriots -- My newly-created site is up and running. Check out all the updated details on readings, awards, events, new work, and more.
Lina ramona Vitkauskas New Web Site
linaramona.com
Monday, December 07, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
MID-STATE
"A film so new it looks confusingly as if it might be a failure..."
--Truffaut on Renoir's La Regle du jeu
"[Stay in] your own movie" --Ken Kesey
each day, a liberated debut
a "love-and-guns-on-the-run".
my Western spawns a steed
and critic upon the saddle
cracked with a blackboard
and palette, a pop of fire love,
a loose heirarchy. I'm a comedic
birth, an auteur theory, a summer
recording of the sea, an automatic.
nine minutes and 46 seconds
in the Louvre, the house
has no address. i care about this.
who dislocates a clarinet
in this sequence truth
gets confused and each man frames
father, director.
--Truffaut on Renoir's La Regle du jeu
"[Stay in] your own movie" --Ken Kesey
each day, a liberated debut
a "love-and-guns-on-the-run".
my Western spawns a steed
and critic upon the saddle
cracked with a blackboard
and palette, a pop of fire love,
a loose heirarchy. I'm a comedic
birth, an auteur theory, a summer
recording of the sea, an automatic.
nine minutes and 46 seconds
in the Louvre, the house
has no address. i care about this.
who dislocates a clarinet
in this sequence truth
gets confused and each man frames
father, director.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
BAD SEX
Thanks for everyone who came out last night to the Chicago chapter of NOW's event...thanks to Kimberly Lojek and Jocelyn who mentioned this poem. Cheers!
BAD SEX
Amount of stubble, girth, hygiene, duration, intensity of emotion or impact,
amount of sighs released, body type, height, incorrect tongue usage, wrong place,
wrong time, wrong position, wrong words, wrong co-host, wrong couch, hair pulling, stepped on my oh, your ugly feet, a rash, a distracting mark, your muscles, a pubic penalty, too quiet, too loud, unreal, unbelievable, demanding, too serious, too flesh, too flippant, too soon, two of us, not having what we can conjure under batik sheets alone with false jewels, the family jewels, false promises, no breakfast, no sleep,
the hurting, the shower, plastic eyes, paper porno turned dark, turned drunk, what happened, what's next, what's this?
players said jazz could be bad-good, like kitten skin, like "that's BAAAD SEX, man"
like, that's sex in granite, that’s sex with ingredients, like that’s healthy sex, or immediately after imagining your mother or your mons Venus bruised or pons electric
saliva after whiskey you fell in love with me I was antibiotic, a dormant case of frustration and forcefulness, didn't exactly stop it, remained neutral like the television, a station of crossed legs and stomach. so there was the erect mirror, the cognac sunlight, the studio, the wind's rape, the audience, the parking, the discussion, the apologies, the money, the lake, the steering wheel, me all cream and hunger, an ashamed crisp production, the color-correction, the fade out, you the patron saint of lobster, casual and wrapped in fleece.
BAD SEX
Amount of stubble, girth, hygiene, duration, intensity of emotion or impact,
amount of sighs released, body type, height, incorrect tongue usage, wrong place,
wrong time, wrong position, wrong words, wrong co-host, wrong couch, hair pulling, stepped on my oh, your ugly feet, a rash, a distracting mark, your muscles, a pubic penalty, too quiet, too loud, unreal, unbelievable, demanding, too serious, too flesh, too flippant, too soon, two of us, not having what we can conjure under batik sheets alone with false jewels, the family jewels, false promises, no breakfast, no sleep,
the hurting, the shower, plastic eyes, paper porno turned dark, turned drunk, what happened, what's next, what's this?
players said jazz could be bad-good, like kitten skin, like "that's BAAAD SEX, man"
like, that's sex in granite, that’s sex with ingredients, like that’s healthy sex, or immediately after imagining your mother or your mons Venus bruised or pons electric
saliva after whiskey you fell in love with me I was antibiotic, a dormant case of frustration and forcefulness, didn't exactly stop it, remained neutral like the television, a station of crossed legs and stomach. so there was the erect mirror, the cognac sunlight, the studio, the wind's rape, the audience, the parking, the discussion, the apologies, the money, the lake, the steering wheel, me all cream and hunger, an ashamed crisp production, the color-correction, the fade out, you the patron saint of lobster, casual and wrapped in fleece.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Go Lithuanian Women!
VILNIUS - Dalia Grybauskaite is set to become Lithuania's first female president after a landslide victory with almost 70 percent of the vote in her favor, early results from the Central Election Committee show.
51 percent of the registered electorate turned out for the vote in the first round -- enough that no second round is required to decide the winner.
Grybauskaite, the incumbent EU budget commissioner for financial programing and budget, had more than two-thirds of the vote with more than 85 percent of ballots counted.
Her closest rival, Algirdas Butkevicius, the leader of opposition Social Democrat Party, came second with 11.7 percent.
President Valdas Adamkus congratulated President-elect Dalia Grybauskaite. on winning the presidential election.
"I am greatly delighted that the people of Lithuania demonstrated strong political will and elected the new president of Lithuania in the first round," Adamkus said.
President Adamkus further said that he and his team were ready to work together with the president-elect and her team to ensure a smooth handover of office.
Despite the majority win for the president-elect, who will take power on July 12, local media has been focusing on her sexuality and marital status.
Grybauskaite has worked as Minister of Finance and also worked in the Lithuanian embassy in the U.S.A. She holds a black belt in karate.
She has been EU budget commissioner since Nov. 24, 2004.
51 percent of the registered electorate turned out for the vote in the first round -- enough that no second round is required to decide the winner.
Grybauskaite, the incumbent EU budget commissioner for financial programing and budget, had more than two-thirds of the vote with more than 85 percent of ballots counted.
Her closest rival, Algirdas Butkevicius, the leader of opposition Social Democrat Party, came second with 11.7 percent.
President Valdas Adamkus congratulated President-elect Dalia Grybauskaite. on winning the presidential election.
"I am greatly delighted that the people of Lithuania demonstrated strong political will and elected the new president of Lithuania in the first round," Adamkus said.
President Adamkus further said that he and his team were ready to work together with the president-elect and her team to ensure a smooth handover of office.
Despite the majority win for the president-elect, who will take power on July 12, local media has been focusing on her sexuality and marital status.
Grybauskaite has worked as Minister of Finance and also worked in the Lithuanian embassy in the U.S.A. She holds a black belt in karate.
She has been EU budget commissioner since Nov. 24, 2004.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Monday, April 06, 2009
FROM COLLABORATIONS AT RAY'S IN 2007
ELECTRIC MISERY THIS RELIGION
The Madonna gone to Detriot,
pigeon-toed and poppy-hot, covered
in sand, each granule a mist of verbs
and stench. What occurred that summer,
the rise of a sausage painter, the pig
aristocracy, the red, red vacation. We made
the mattress sing with the high pitch of dogs
crushing coconuts—luscious white angst.
We misfits, we birds, we formidable dust,
we Hester Prynne girlfriends of suspicion
possessing nothing but the history of our
own skin. “Skin,” he says, “Skin is useless.
Take this to the saints and see what 5-inch
cleavage will leverage for foreign language.”
Girls spin into symposiums, radiant
and cold, Each a tabula rassa, oh, Austria,
you paint us mother and saviors.
LIGHTNING CIRCUS: 1973
Lanterns thresh in the wind.
In a working-class district, a son
finds a packet of orange malaria
tablets behind the archetypes
of empty uniforms, each soldier
detailed and dreaming of young
sweet pepper epaulettes, tiger-heeled
shoes and a juniper pistol grip.
In Rome, a distastrous cup of jam
with a twist of bile sits, a picture
of St. Luke, the year of his birth.
The Madonna gone to Detriot,
pigeon-toed and poppy-hot, covered
in sand, each granule a mist of verbs
and stench. What occurred that summer,
the rise of a sausage painter, the pig
aristocracy, the red, red vacation. We made
the mattress sing with the high pitch of dogs
crushing coconuts—luscious white angst.
We misfits, we birds, we formidable dust,
we Hester Prynne girlfriends of suspicion
possessing nothing but the history of our
own skin. “Skin,” he says, “Skin is useless.
Take this to the saints and see what 5-inch
cleavage will leverage for foreign language.”
Girls spin into symposiums, radiant
and cold, Each a tabula rassa, oh, Austria,
you paint us mother and saviors.
LIGHTNING CIRCUS: 1973
Lanterns thresh in the wind.
In a working-class district, a son
finds a packet of orange malaria
tablets behind the archetypes
of empty uniforms, each soldier
detailed and dreaming of young
sweet pepper epaulettes, tiger-heeled
shoes and a juniper pistol grip.
In Rome, a distastrous cup of jam
with a twist of bile sits, a picture
of St. Luke, the year of his birth.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
DOG COLOR: nature without check with original energy
(with excerpts from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, James Baldwin’s Go Tell it on the Mountain (Elizabeth’s Prayer), some of Rod Parsley’s sermons, one of Reverend Wright’s sermons, one of John Hagee’s interviews, Barack Obama’s speech on race, and a campaign chant from Hillary Rodham Clinton)
When Melissa and I originally did this for SWAN day last year, I conjured my first version:
in a hall that still stands across the street
the sterilized poppy scissors,
the elimination of an entire;
the bondage of parchment
hues of road map veins
dogs of nut-parceled colors
dogs with navy-bean lisps
dogs that desire belly rubbing
dogs that lick starched and lamée boot-flaps
in a hall that still stands across the street
dogs currently leading a blind and crunchy
Kansas catholic whore, each hem sewn
into the sinew of the masses of dogs
in the meadow, this audience, a handsaw
heteroglossia [their tongues], every atom of [their] blood
in a hall that still stands across the street
this improbable balloon
this America, this experiment
always a knit of identity,
a buckshot, wild genocide windmill
a pearlized temple chewing the rubber vitriol,
the Kenyan son amnesia
a homosexual parade
glassing lips of generous myth
in a hall that still stands across the street
I sure don’t care what God don’t like,
this ice dancer and civil white
I am here because of parsley,
I am here with a fist of rods,
I am here in this butter taxi
of the death toll: fifteen hundred
this viscous experiment, a stalemate citizen
a primitive ether tax labeled a racist or a murderer,
or at very best a Nazi, in a hall that still stands
across the street, an ordinary “Goddamn America”
on a spectrum seared into my genetic makeup
this nation's fleas, every single year,
the flesh of You Tubes funding a scabbing rash
into a day of black “for treating our citizens
as less than human”, this segment of society,
millions their right-hand target,
in a hall that still stands across the street
dogs that originate the mealy dissection
dogs that thief tables from a Midwest diner
yes we will, unionize blood to bloody token,
yes we will
I’m going away from here
in a hall that still stands across the street
this final course, this national organization
and the promise of that parade
in a hall that still stands across the street
all hurricanes are acts of god
scattered across three continents
the colloquial rubies and tusks
dogs that confess to the cinema
dogs that misshape stones and
“Aint we got to be educated, too, to live with the motherfuckers?”
this final resolution [reaching]
a level of sexuality never demonstrated before
the newsprint march on my own American story
dogs like agnostic dyslexics
the best schools in America
in a hall that still stands across the street
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the
beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
—Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass
When Melissa and I originally did this for SWAN day last year, I conjured my first version:
in a hall that still stands across the street
the sterilized poppy scissors,
the elimination of an entire;
the bondage of parchment
hues of road map veins
dogs of nut-parceled colors
dogs with navy-bean lisps
dogs that desire belly rubbing
dogs that lick starched and lamée boot-flaps
in a hall that still stands across the street
dogs currently leading a blind and crunchy
Kansas catholic whore, each hem sewn
into the sinew of the masses of dogs
in the meadow, this audience, a handsaw
heteroglossia [their tongues], every atom of [their] blood
in a hall that still stands across the street
this improbable balloon
this America, this experiment
always a knit of identity,
a buckshot, wild genocide windmill
a pearlized temple chewing the rubber vitriol,
the Kenyan son amnesia
a homosexual parade
glassing lips of generous myth
in a hall that still stands across the street
I sure don’t care what God don’t like,
this ice dancer and civil white
I am here because of parsley,
I am here with a fist of rods,
I am here in this butter taxi
of the death toll: fifteen hundred
this viscous experiment, a stalemate citizen
a primitive ether tax labeled a racist or a murderer,
or at very best a Nazi, in a hall that still stands
across the street, an ordinary “Goddamn America”
on a spectrum seared into my genetic makeup
this nation's fleas, every single year,
the flesh of You Tubes funding a scabbing rash
into a day of black “for treating our citizens
as less than human”, this segment of society,
millions their right-hand target,
in a hall that still stands across the street
dogs that originate the mealy dissection
dogs that thief tables from a Midwest diner
yes we will, unionize blood to bloody token,
yes we will
I’m going away from here
in a hall that still stands across the street
this final course, this national organization
and the promise of that parade
in a hall that still stands across the street
all hurricanes are acts of god
scattered across three continents
the colloquial rubies and tusks
dogs that confess to the cinema
dogs that misshape stones and
“Aint we got to be educated, too, to live with the motherfuckers?”
this final resolution [reaching]
a level of sexuality never demonstrated before
the newsprint march on my own American story
dogs like agnostic dyslexics
the best schools in America
in a hall that still stands across the street
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the
beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
—Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass
IGNEOUS PEOPLE
Blue conglomerate, sweet & exposed
what page are we on?
Pale moment, still an apse,
a lean palette changed the course
of my burn. We are fallible, tongued
neuroses holding onto wisps of indecent
youth. I sliver the bones, look
upon your face for the first time
in the studious wind. We are new,
marbles in India, sweet & exposed
what page are we on?
what page are we on?
Pale moment, still an apse,
a lean palette changed the course
of my burn. We are fallible, tongued
neuroses holding onto wisps of indecent
youth. I sliver the bones, look
upon your face for the first time
in the studious wind. We are new,
marbles in India, sweet & exposed
what page are we on?
DHAMMPADA (adapted)
"Love yourself and be awake—
today, tomorrow, and always.
First establish yourself in the way,
then teach others,
and so defeat sorrow.
To straighten the crooked
you must first do the harder thing—
straighten yourself.
You are your only master,
who else?
Subdue yourself, and discover your master."
today, tomorrow, and always.
First establish yourself in the way,
then teach others,
and so defeat sorrow.
To straighten the crooked
you must first do the harder thing—
straighten yourself.
You are your only master,
who else?
Subdue yourself, and discover your master."
GOOGLE YOURSELF + "NEEDS"
Old trick, but when you type in your name and "needs", here's my experiment:
"Lina needs someone not quite so aggressive... and preferably with an IQ above that of a hampster's..."
"Lina needs prosperity to pay off her taxes and Demeter has a daughter, Persephone, who is an immature goddess in need of anonymity and responsibilty."
"Lina needs help badly, time is working against her."
"Now Lina needs to find someone to be her fiancé."
"Lina needs to speak with Juniors and Seniors, or anyone helping with the Ring Celebration."
"What Lina needs is not solace, because nothing can console someone who has undergone such a tragedy, but what she needs is to stay strong and focus on looking deeper, and make life’s process more conscious than what it is."
"Lina needs to live like her, not caring what the future holds because she ... Lina needs a shoulder to lean on."
"L I N A needs to set a policy based on community wishes for how many more sidewalk cafes we want & where."
"Lina needs a family."
"Lina needs between seven and fourteen million dollars to preserve the footage."
"Lina needs to live like her, ... Lina uses this to explain why she needs to go alone to meet her mirror self, ..."
"Lina needs to book banner space in Central Square."
"What Lina needs is a guide. What she finds is the biggest, surliest chicken that she's ever seen!"
"Lina needs not only health, but also an end to occupation."
"I really think that Lina needs you."
"Lina needs urgent medical attention."
"Lina needs improvment though."
"Lina needs a father as well as a mother."
"Lina needs to be sent to India for a bone marrow transplant."
"Lina needs someone not quite so aggressive... and preferably with an IQ above that of a hampster's..."
"Lina needs prosperity to pay off her taxes and Demeter has a daughter, Persephone, who is an immature goddess in need of anonymity and responsibilty."
"Lina needs help badly, time is working against her."
"Now Lina needs to find someone to be her fiancé."
"Lina needs to speak with Juniors and Seniors, or anyone helping with the Ring Celebration."
"What Lina needs is not solace, because nothing can console someone who has undergone such a tragedy, but what she needs is to stay strong and focus on looking deeper, and make life’s process more conscious than what it is."
"Lina needs to live like her, not caring what the future holds because she ... Lina needs a shoulder to lean on."
"L I N A needs to set a policy based on community wishes for how many more sidewalk cafes we want & where."
"Lina needs a family."
"Lina needs between seven and fourteen million dollars to preserve the footage."
"Lina needs to live like her, ... Lina uses this to explain why she needs to go alone to meet her mirror self, ..."
"Lina needs to book banner space in Central Square."
"What Lina needs is a guide. What she finds is the biggest, surliest chicken that she's ever seen!"
"Lina needs not only health, but also an end to occupation."
"I really think that Lina needs you."
"Lina needs urgent medical attention."
"Lina needs improvment though."
"Lina needs a father as well as a mother."
"Lina needs to be sent to India for a bone marrow transplant."
GOODBYE, LAURA BUSH
žadina (awake) (for Laura Bush)
šalis be vardo
grafiene teplioti langa
tuscias intencija
joksa garsas nepanašus i šiksnos valdyma
silkiniais žodziais.
country with no name
the countess smears the window
with her vacant intention
no sound is like leather control
with silk words.
šalis be vardo
grafiene teplioti langa
tuscias intencija
joksa garsas nepanašus i šiksnos valdyma
silkiniais žodziais.
country with no name
the countess smears the window
with her vacant intention
no sound is like leather control
with silk words.
THE INTERIOR SIBERIA
These shifts under-tundra
carve a warm river scratch,
shape dewy decibels
about her cobra hair
cheating buds of darling
may each hairline tick off
a papal garden.
If cobweb rashes
are panes through
which the city forgives me,
I'll find her.
carve a warm river scratch,
shape dewy decibels
about her cobra hair
cheating buds of darling
may each hairline tick off
a papal garden.
If cobweb rashes
are panes through
which the city forgives me,
I'll find her.
SHADOW DANCING
Andy Gibb, turntable holes,
you fluffy minx! I devoured
the last Junior Mint. I was
all this and nothing more
doing it light, a wax frieze
of dark basement nights
coming from speakers.
you fluffy minx! I devoured
the last Junior Mint. I was
all this and nothing more
doing it light, a wax frieze
of dark basement nights
coming from speakers.
OLD POEM FOR KRISTY ODELIUS
THE APIARY BEFORE US –For KO
-Excerpts from "Impostor With Housemaid's Knee"
They will get stung in this field,
as billy witch mermaids sans sequins,
waitresses in a bath, (they are sometimes
referred to as cockchafers)
as thawing quills, pre-hensile.
They will grow swollen in this field
and carbonize each curve.
Romance is an ammonia twist,
a thorax and stain of synchronized trades.
It is the scrubbing of the wings,
as floorboards sheathed in ice,
that burns knees and the mantis of mouths.
To reach the combs, honey.
To fall crisp and unmarked to the reverse sky.
To walk to the swamp through
the apiary, each girl a laboratory.
-Excerpts from "Impostor With Housemaid's Knee"
They will get stung in this field,
as billy witch mermaids sans sequins,
waitresses in a bath, (they are sometimes
referred to as cockchafers)
as thawing quills, pre-hensile.
They will grow swollen in this field
and carbonize each curve.
Romance is an ammonia twist,
a thorax and stain of synchronized trades.
It is the scrubbing of the wings,
as floorboards sheathed in ice,
that burns knees and the mantis of mouths.
To reach the combs, honey.
To fall crisp and unmarked to the reverse sky.
To walk to the swamp through
the apiary, each girl a laboratory.
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