repeatedly dies in wakefulness (is this that example of when i try hard to create impact, and my words suffocate in an overdose of intended poeticism? i did add the wakefulness upon revision. thought it contrasted well with the dream. that's what they teach in schools, after all.)
did you see me?
did you look away?
there are no words today
that are round
no words to create juice
even to create predictable sounds
feels like yet another mode of deception
i feign a poem
there is no poem
today thoughts are weary
the jackal hunts the vaccuum
and square is the shape that always confines me
a good poem is a bad dream
a bad poem is just awkward
this is awkard
this is so awkward
garbage in garbage out equilibrium
but even that. who am i kidding.
i can't even get away with a make-what-you-want-to-make-out-of-that.
too many evens betray an aura of oddness.
erm. awkward pause.
it can end you know.
even if it's not a poem. a poem. poem.
...something undignified about a poem that refuses to end.
constructed; but constructed on wooden planks and stainless steel and iron rods and plaster and concrete and timber and and plywood and bricks and glasses and smoothness and straightness and vertical and horizontal and parallels and perpendiculars and blue prints and masterminds and the accumulation of architectures together called culture.
whenever i talk to you... i feel like i'm slithering down a rainbow laid out with banana peels. i feel like i'm trickling down a cloud in the afterrain. and the moonshines. and the sunsmiles, and happiness is a creature i can hold in my palms. it crawls. it lingers.
i think you're the ribbon that makes a bow around my universe... so red... and so lovely.
what is a blog? is it a log with wings can it sing the thing that makes me cringe
since when did the blog become the thing without wings or song or silence confounding all senses
the thing that is always 'in' when it comes to written words on the net
what is a blog a noun that is no use to a clown like me
i mean what do people write when they write a blog
and when they blog (a verb it is) what is it that is being done
the blog is my ultimate blockage serving no good purpose abundant, profuse proliferation of ideas the unleashing of all creativities earlier clogged gooey journalism - an arm's length away sticky, smelly, messy, slimy
a blog is a weblog is not the coming together of two constituent parts we blog but of web and log
and yet, all the time, we blog not knowing what means the web and what means the log.