Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘bloggers’

A continuation of fragments inspired by others in this virtuality. Thanks be to all their moments of light.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE

Drained dregs,
swirled,
interrogated.
Take possession,
a wonder!
(shadow of a monkey,
top hat, spinning wheel,
a descent into most
beautiful desolation!)

—-

MARI’S PAINTING

The smudges,
fingerprints of,
intentions of.
Something emerges.
Something.
Something peels away,
flakes of time.
A brush with fate,
a moment
remarked.

—-

MAPPA MUNDI

Place is a story
someone has inhabited,
long ago, leaving signs,
debris, memory.
A place where no one has been
exists nowhere,
inhabited by jealous dragons,
guarding their own history.
Blank space
waiting for words, instructions.
Place: a time that piles up upon itself,
memory on memory,
making ghosts that sing
sweet, terrible songs.

—-

OBJECT

Maybe more that it is a thing,
a presence, but not recognisable.

Like an archetype it resonates
with many types of object,
but its form, colour, meaning,
purpose are not appearent.

It serves its own existence,
intrudes upon ours.

—-

WRITER

Pouring words from the jug of your head.
More you pour, more is there.
How many sights, how many sounds
are buried in memory and dream?
There will be no end of it,
squeezing out the now and the then.
It is nothing and then it is everything.
From afar, we watch your erratic climb,
cheering, oohing and aaahing.

—-

REMINDER

Food for the spirits,
food from the ancestors:
our breath, our voice.

—-

INTROSPECTION

All this
could be as pointless,
as self-enwrapped,
as walking solo to the South Pole.

It could be as noble
as a wounded messenger
warning of danger over the next hill.

It could be science.
It could be experimentation.
It could be a zoo.
It could be shared visioned stories
around a small fire on a wild night.

It could be howling ‘why?’ at the stars.
It could be showing off.
It could be a fatal avoidance.
It could be searching,
searching for what has been lost,
what has been forgotten.

It could be a waste of time.
It could be the whole damn purpose of time.
Following threads that are clues,
or are the unravelling of sense.

—-

ATTRACT

The mind orbits fascinated,
bemothed heart fluttering
near then far.
These harsh,
gentle words.

—-

INCIDENT

Scintillating sparkles.
Mind silenced
by a million small
dancing suns.
Distantly,
the shipwreck slides
silent beneath the waves.

—-

ARTLESS

“express yourself”
Vapid instruction.
Read this book
Teaching how to read.
Ride this bike,
Hands here,
Feet here.
Stuttered, stumbled,
(Walking, running,
After all, just falling
Cleverly)
“express yourself”
Reveal attractive scars,
Elegant vulnerabilities,
Do not shock nor upset,
Refine the blood, the stains.
Tidy up the mess,
Sauté the raw.
Season, disguise,
Dissimulate.
Pressed out, inside out,
Regurgitated, ejected,
Void, voided.
Go,
Express yourself
Numb
Skull.

—-

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: