Archive for November, 2007

Salmon Run

Swim hard enough
against the current of images, deep
into the infinite mirror,

into the space where light
still signifies
falling against the darkness

in a river
of focal points
echoing

deeper

from the place where everything
is transforming:

metamorphic:

reasoned,
however complex:

(

The salmon
batter their fins
over tree-wrack,
beyond all urgent retreats.

Strengthened by falls,
everything abandoned
but rewind

(and the bursting
at the end,
the exhaustion)

deep in the woods
in the tiniest stream,

ragged with frost,
trotting the last mile

to lay down
in the body
of the birthplace.

)

Leaf rot
scratching at the belly.

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Deep dive


class Poem{
   var concerns, aThreadOfReason,
       thoseAreReallyYourHands;

   function Poem( concerns ){
      this.concerns = concerns;
      this.aThreadOfReason = new Array();
      this.thoseAreReallyYourHands = new Hands();
      for(var me = 0; me < this.concerns.length; me++){
         this.aThreadOfReason[] = this.thinkAbout( concerns[ me ] );
      }
   }
   function thinkAbout( which ){
      var expressingEverything=this.thoseAreReallyYourHands.movingInSuchFlawedGestures();
      return expressingEverything.withImpishGlee( which );
   }
   function write( inspiration ){
      var youToYourself = new Array();
      foreach( inspiration.keepsTouching(this.aThreadOfReason) as eachTouch){
         youToYourself[] = eachTouch.impressingTheMoment();
      }
      //because the method is called for
      //because we are always chasing

      return youToYourself;
      upon reflection
   }
}
var concerns=[
   "King of Dancers",
   "things that stand",
   "arms",
   "reaching",
   "vision"];

var thisPoem=new Poem( concerns );

alert( thisPoem.write( Deep dive ) );

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Riddle:
______ of the Damned #1

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Self Portrait 3

Self Portrait 3

Hopes

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Doubts

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Dissertation 256

I

We,
moist bubbles from the sea,

we didn’t help each other to breathe
this cast off element.

We rose,
bubbles on the moist membrane
of other bubbles.

We skate on the wind in

juxtapositions

break from the foam

see what we have become:

We see things
inside other things
in endless chains of attachment

until reason bogs down
and things grow rotten
and rotten and rotten.

Things are softened,
smoothed into larger forms.

We fall
inside another fall

 

.
 

this, a strange fungus
gripped the surface
and squirmed its way into being
at a certain distance
from burning things,
an instantiated object.

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