Courage is a old seashell.
Beaten into a sandy shore
unencumbered by its own desires
but staying steady.
Rise calmly like a old sun,
Never desire a gull to call your name
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
March 29 - old coast
Courage is a old seashell.
Beaten into a sandy shore
unencumbered by its own desires
but staying steady.
Rise calmly like a old sun,
Never desire a gull to call your name
March 28 - In the City
The grimy hood calmly fights the driver.
Action, exhaustion, and work.
Walk calmly like a jackhammer.
Find your way through the mess of people.
Men and women shop.
Why stop for one another?
Monday, October 8, 2012
March 27 - Appreciate the Silence
Do we appreciate the silence of a blank page? The noteless lines, and what opportunities they present?
No. We must fill them with that colorful noise of penmanship we call writing; forever to hurried to engage with the question: must we destroy a multitude of potential messages to write this banality down?
No. We must fill them with that colorful noise of penmanship we call writing; forever to hurried to engage with the question: must we destroy a multitude of potential messages to write this banality down?
March 26 - Filling in the Blanks
When I began this process, I started by making as many pages as I could before Google accused me of being a robot. Titles blank but for the date their posts would symbolically represent. In January, I could not say what I might post in March. Now that it is October, I still cannot say what I will post on certain days in March.
I unearthed something old and new, borrowed and blue (to end this grand task I may as well mary my damn blog, which I will soon be able to do if marriage equality detractors are capable of any kind of prescience). I am a fill in the blank writer, working for no reason but my own to mar a perfectly good blank page.
I unearthed something old and new, borrowed and blue (to end this grand task I may as well mary my damn blog, which I will soon be able to do if marriage equality detractors are capable of any kind of prescience). I am a fill in the blank writer, working for no reason but my own to mar a perfectly good blank page.
March 25 - Falling
I do not fall.
I have never fallen,
I simply pitch myself toward the center,
Where Dante says the Devil lives furthest from God's Graces,
Toward Pandemonium.
It is intentional.
Therefore I do not fall.
I have never fallen,
I simply pitch myself toward the center,
Where Dante says the Devil lives furthest from God's Graces,
Toward Pandemonium.
It is intentional.
Therefore I do not fall.
March 24 - Caryatid
Caryatid girl who insists on bearing the lintels of other peoples broken homes, step down step down.
Or so I'd like to call
But you do not caryatid yourself.
You cut off your hair long ago in a misguided attack on your femininity that came in the wake of your older brother growing his hair out out of neglect and overdosing on self-hatred and academia.
You bear your stone. But Athens does not want you. Georgia sends you away.
Or so I'd like to call
But you do not caryatid yourself.
You cut off your hair long ago in a misguided attack on your femininity that came in the wake of your older brother growing his hair out out of neglect and overdosing on self-hatred and academia.
You bear your stone. But Athens does not want you. Georgia sends you away.
March 23 - Untitled, Road Trip
The sign told us: When Fog on Mountain, Be Alert and Drive Slowly. We whipped past it. You were not aware of the sign
- Reading while I'm driving makes me sick.
Well fine. I'll do the reading for both of us. There wasn't a comma on the sign. I added it for you because commas drive you nuts. Not when they're misused but when they're used at all. You speak at a pauseless clip. You only use the period (which I'll admit deserves some love as a sign of punctuation anyway) and God Forbid a comma appear in your way. Some grammarian must have traumatized you in grade school. I have never seen you so angry at Word as when it insists on adding one. Even Clippy is a more welcome sight than the green squiggle that alerts you to a mistake of usage.
But this is the kind of sign you would have heeded. This sign without punctuation should appear a welcome sight after three hours on the road which is too much for you. But since you care so little for our saftey, I think it best that it be the kind of sign that does you in.
- Reading while I'm driving makes me sick.
Well fine. I'll do the reading for both of us. There wasn't a comma on the sign. I added it for you because commas drive you nuts. Not when they're misused but when they're used at all. You speak at a pauseless clip. You only use the period (which I'll admit deserves some love as a sign of punctuation anyway) and God Forbid a comma appear in your way. Some grammarian must have traumatized you in grade school. I have never seen you so angry at Word as when it insists on adding one. Even Clippy is a more welcome sight than the green squiggle that alerts you to a mistake of usage.
But this is the kind of sign you would have heeded. This sign without punctuation should appear a welcome sight after three hours on the road which is too much for you. But since you care so little for our saftey, I think it best that it be the kind of sign that does you in.
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