#1
there are chambers in me I have sequestered,
one’s pining and pleasant and others feathered &
indiscriminate, fleeing the imperceptive nature of my
eyes which negate the essence of some absurd
manifestation of despair. oh! what it’s like to be so
disparate, to muddy the teeth with sardines and
shellfish you feed to me. there is no love in shellfish,
their eyes, our eyes, I must start at the tail to avoid
their gaze.

once I was a hatching egg, undeterred by the hedonistic
pleasures of unaccountable desire, I was new and new and
you were new, and now who? the mind patinas, you should
trust my thoughts of antiquity, you should trust my eyes of
ivory.

I am awful in my awfulness, and only few can understand
such an awful awfulness.

but to who are we performing? some saplings catching
dew to baptize their impurities? we were beautiful before
we realized we were beautiful, and now we’re folly,
silly, mosquitoes who bite without a desire for blood.

I do not trust your eyes. my eyes. they’re ill-bred,
contrived.

I want to spring forth, forlorn, unborn.
#2
This was plesant to explore and re-read; but merely by it's potential as a rough draft. The very beginning of the piece prepared me for the amount of metaphors to be used, but I think you could have played them up more and tied some together; maybe gotten rid of concepts that seemed forgotten. (Ie. Sardines)

What I liked about it was the sensation of automation, brought on by the mosquitos without thirst. Especially Nullification by realization: Beautiful until you examine it for the lie it is, but you examined it because you realized it was beautiful.

It left me hoping I could exist beyond my habits and petty social-exchanges; spiteful of the foreboding amount of doubt that the whole of society inherits from these constructs of uglier cultures.
Last edited by jpwesch at Mar 26, 2014,
#3
this kind of reminds me of the little i've read of Kafka (minus the abuse of semicolons)
#4
Didn't know who Kafka was; but now, thanks to Yahoo, I know I've had a Kafkaesque experience with solipsism.
Last edited by jpwesch at Mar 26, 2014,
#5
philosophers are shitty writers.

remember sonics?
https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1374553


we are always reborn. it's a matter of creating.
western philosophy can often keep us stuck in our own ego, and makes us characterize the world as such.

a former buddha once said in verse:
standing atop a soaring mountain peak is for the time being
and plunging down to the floor of the Ocean's abyss is for the time being;

being triple-headed and eight-armed is for the time being
and being a figure of buddha standing sixteen feet tall
or sitting eight feet high is for the time being;

being a monk's travelling staff or his ceremonial hossu is for the time being
and being a pillar supporting the temple or a stone lantern before the meditation hall
is for the time being;

being a next-door neighbor or a man in the street is for the time being,
and being the whole of the great earth and boundless space is
for the time, being.



it's warm soon; throw on dirty projectors; climb something; walk somewhere
xx
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist




e-married to
theguitarist
minterman22
tateandlyle
& alaskan_ninja

#6
This felt more real than some other things I've rad of yours. You mentioned it on your blog, so I won't say to explore whatever. You know what you need as a writer and from the looks of it you're doing just that.

And while this is real, in a sense it's still got that playfulness I've come to expect. Awful awfulness. You don't say.

I enjoy reading this.
#7
Quote by jpwesch
This was plesant to explore and re-read; but merely by it's potential as a rough draft. The very beginning of the piece prepared me for the amount of metaphors to be used, but I think you could have played them up more and tied some together; maybe gotten rid of concepts that seemed forgotten. (Ie. Sardines)

What I liked about it was the sensation of automation, brought on by the mosquitos without thirst. Especially Nullification by realization: Beautiful until you examine it for the lie it is, but you examined it because you realized it was beautiful.

It left me hoping I could exist beyond my habits and petty social-exchanges; spiteful of the foreboding amount of doubt that the whole of society inherits from these constructs of uglier cultures.


I like you and you were spot on. This of course is a rough draft and will possibly be revisited.

Of_wolves - I cannot write the 'real' without writing it playfully, it is a necessity for me. I appreciate your comments and the fact that you read my blog (which has been shit as of late).

Saadia- you are wonderful. I appreciated waking up to that poem the other day.

Dregen - The Kafka comparison is generous. I typically abuse semi-colons to no end, at least in my academic writing, but I guess I spared this poem.
#8
I hope you do put some time into this one, I'd like to see it finished! It looks like something I could feel real deep.