Arse Poetica!
When you make castles at the beach,
posted by Duck @ 7:48 AM
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Several years ago -three to be exact- I volunteered to participate in a psychological experiment. I was to undergo various tests that would assess my cognitive functions. Before the actual tests, however, they had to examine my blood to see that I fit the bill, in terms of a normal and healthy person. It was then that they found that my blood's blood, or Spea, was dying. The well groomed, suit clad, business minded individuals dwelling inside my circulatory vessels were unaware of their being part of a complex, multi-cellular organism. Their universe was a human and their human was irresponsible. The case was brought in front of the Supreme Court. The doctor's daughter, who had fallen in love with me, had no choice but to banish any thoughts of us and move on. She still loves me but has a practical side that I cannot bring myself to resent. I was told that the French/German poet, Croixan Sawnt was my only hope if i were to escape but i have been unable to contact him. I have found out only recently that ever since he lost his leg in the famed 'War of the Arachnids', Sawnt has gone into hiding. Neither of his daughters has heard from him in five years.
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Ants crawling on the floor
All the way to the apple core
An unseen road they travel on
Abruptly kiss and then move on.
We are similar or perhaps the same
Just a lot less kissing in our game
An unseen road we travel by
No end in sight. Why even try?
“The rhythm of life is a powerful beat.” said the wind as it blew couple-colored waves across the surface of the ocean. I sat on the beach, looking outwards, handling a small pebble between my thumb and forefinger. The outer layer of moist sand felt cool and malleable but the stone itself was immutable inside its cover. Gulls flying overhead were the souls of sailors drowned, eulogizing the lives of those who think and yet live. Each wave, like a desperate arm, reached farther out from within the water and every time it would try to compel me, to seduce me to come along. Far away, I saw a flash in the sky and heard the distant rumble of things to come. The god of war and wisdom, poetry and prophesy had spoken yet again. This time, however, I thought I was ready. But then Odin’s finger tips touched the sole of my foot and wiped away the traces of my long walk.
“God did it. I found it because of God. I managed it because of God. I am the vice regent of God!” I love you.
“I suck. Shit…I am utter total shit I must shit on myself and die. I am the excrement of maggots. Shit!” I loathe you.
There are two worlds running parallel to one another. Most people exist in one and some few in the other but then there are those who shift in between. My story is the story of those people. My story is of course unique because all such stories are unique. Unique in the way a tree is unique and then it is also general, in the way that all trees do sort of share a familial similarity. One can usually look at trees and know what they are. These people, of whom I speak, vary tremendously, one from the other, depending upon their subjective movements between these two worlds and their level of control, their degree of immersion and finally, the level of social productivity or acceptance. All of these areas have an effect on one another or they overlap.
an old song...saved for the purposes of later...thing.
Sitting, watching shadows on the wall
Are they angels laughing at my fall?
Pointing at the gates of hell they shriek:
We will watch this world inherit its meek
O’ king of sand why do you wish for rain?
Have you nothing to lose? Nothing to gain?
I have new shoes, new thoughts, new rules. My friend...
Quiet down, don’t make a sound.
The slave of fire might come back around
Take us all down.
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