Ink circles black ellipses Sends spirals into The cornea of the eyes. Signals broadcast, Received. Zero infinity marks, The frontier Of embryonic senses. Repulsed, By impulse. Eclipse the judgment, To open channels For the true instincts. Set inner scope From zero to grasp Eternity.
Thought provoking and sensual in its speechless words. Draws the reader into the spell of a vast astral storm. Personal and precise with veiled language so condensed that it is more felt than learned. A causal view beyond sight.
ah, but for some the concave is not the mind but only its shield, to protect it from evil intruders such as your self. ;P much love
This is great, KX! Reminds me of the whole cyberpunk genre, and that's always cool by me. I'm actually been reading alot of that stuff lately... "Five hours' New York jet lag and Cayce Pollard wakes in Camden Town to the dire and ever-circling wolves of disrupted circadian rhythm. It is that flat and spectral non-hour, awash in limbic tides, brainstem stirring fitfully, flashing inappropriate reptilian demands for sex, food, sedation, all of the above, and none really an option now." from William Gibson's Pattern Recognition
I'm afraid I don't do the cyberpunk genre (which I love) justice, but thanks for the comments, I'll probably write more on the topic though.
I want you in good health. Nothing else. Want you to be well. Nothing more. But I demand, That you, Safely, come back home. Silently, caressing tendons, Harvesting liquid berries. Waiting, gasping, pausing cycles. Hold off the fanfare Until your arrive. I will be your boldface, exclamation tease, To make up for the lost time, words, empty space, backspace, delete. No commitment, just this temptation to sneeze On relativity and physical laws. No worry, my voodoo will ward off the grenade rain. You’re free. Well not entirely. Trick my consciousness, I claim you for mine. But with free will, Complexities of personality And a demanding mind. Harsh altruism prescribed. I want you to be content, With how you are, why you are. Free of guilt, self-pity and remorse. Come home, forget me, need me. All irrelevant to my cause. Don’t question my purpose, Convictions propel my universe.
Looking through your poems Kitten I am impressed. Too much to comment on them all! Of the more recent ones, I particularly like 'zero' - but one tiny criricism is that perhaps 'broadcast' might be better than 'broadcasted'? But its great anyway. Love, BBB.
I'm thinking of the art work Melancholia. Seeing futility abounding in limited conditioning forces the angel looks within. "Still the Mind" by Alan Watts come to mind. The 1st quote goes: "What I am really saying is that you don't need to do anything, because if you see yourself in the correct way, you are all as much extraordinary phenomenon of nature as trees, clouds, the patterns in running water, the flickering of fire, the arrangement of the stars, and the form of a galaxy. You are all just like that, and there is nothing wrong with you at all." Its not that anything is right or wrong its the creative genius in us all that prods us to excel in growth and communication with all the other facets of the living divine.
The ending here is fantastic, specially the last two lines. I also like how this one flows... tight and stuttered at the beginning, opening up in the middle and toning down again toward the end. Beautiful words full of purpose... this is a delicious heart wrenching work.
This really gets to me, you intending the double meaning or am I just imagining one up as I sit here in my cubical? lol I love that! The whole section that sylvan pointed out above, really good. The scarecrow image doesn't work for me, I know it's the right word and all, I just don't like it, as a word. Maybe I've developed a phobia...
Eyed the ceiling with infantile curiosity Gaped upward, calculating trajectory Of my paper jet. Who will take responsibility, For these intricately weaved cobwebs That we collectively planted In our heads. Random tapping to no beat, Mental wheels turn and squeak. Humming, but can’t carry a tune To save a life. Rubbish information accumulated, Temporary stored, then suddenly forgot. Swept under the Persian rugs. Dull stupor precipitates Yawning epidemic of rooks. Bobbing through thick antiquity, Vapor of knowledge congests lungs. We cough, but in vain. Today’s lesson is on how to Tame any flicker of interest, With the burden of hypnotizing the hand.
great opening! nice way to capture you sitting there, staring at the ceiling dumbfounded.... and this was my favorite verse... wonderfully stuff, specially the mental wheels sqeaking. I like the whole piece, it's beautiful, simple, and to the point.
Prolific horizons, Drift endlessly, To bridge the earth With the sky. Carelessly, stand On the edge of a map. Watch, outdated stars, Light years away, Signal with console. Constellations smile, Profoundly aware of What’s was, what is, And what is yet to come. But offer no answer, To the question surmised As deluded perceptions Try to assign significance To every insignificant sign. The truth is irrelevant, When the eyes gaze for depths Of beyond. Without having explored, The inner terrains and The cosmos inside.
