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Sat, May. 20th, 2006, 12:35 am
booraadley: Surreal World (MagPoetArtKit)

Nude junk disharmony
Throws mess at waste
And rigid dust monuments appear.

Electric ink senses this.

Raw angry realist in me
Think my surreal world mad
But question your bold empty rhythm.

Sat, May. 20th, 2006 05:28 am (UTC)
contortedemblem: oh me! oh my! I've been inspired.

why waste passion
through balance
when rhythm calls
to earthly forms?

smooth symbols
wield wild worlds
in their forgiveness

blessed be the father:
creator of distant worlds

forgive them!
for they know not what they do
(yes, they do.)

follow them, for
when those calls cause harm
I just can't ignore ...

(well, I won't ignore them

and the surreal silhouettes
begin to form


it's moving;

Can you hear it?


investigating the fiery impression;
wiping dust from the canvas;
peering through the glass
with a chisel in hand

use your imagination,
get deep

balance is here

shimmer, woman,
in your brilliance
demand grace
and dazzle me

nothing new there:
my curse, I believe.


I've left bread crumbs
leading to your alter

(so you can find your way back;
I now live here.)

while feigning blindness;

nothing new there:
my curse, I believe.


paint the subject white,
or purple,
and investigate;
smear hard
and angels might erupt
from this stone.

Sat, May. 20th, 2006 12:38 pm (UTC)
booraadley: Re: oh me! oh my! I've been inspired.

Oh me! oh my! Well, that wasn't full of innuendo now was it?

I didn't realise my poem on bedroom mess could be so inspirational. Wait, that sounds like inuuendo in itself. I don't win! I don't win!

Still drop.

So inspiration leads us all in varying directions. I could stare at a tree and think, 'Mighty oak who are you?'

Someone else might think, 'That damned tree is blocking the Sun, I'm not going to get a tan lying here'

Another person may shout 'My frisbee always gets stuck in that tree, but it's fun climbing up to get it!'

So I guess what I'm saying is:

Ask dead aesthetic joy
How hard harmony sings.
Almost abstract in its empty throw
Life adds a cigarette break
To a live film.

The absurd grace of the real world
Composes a white scale model.
Suffering captured, appears dry.

So observe forms fully
Question deep, water's metal shimmer;
Sculpt wild sense from every imagined movement-
Metaphor some music through that balanced mess

Sat, May. 20th, 2006 02:54 pm (UTC)
contortedemblem: Oh me! oh my! Well, that wasn't full of innuendo now was it?

Actually ... no. But you're on the right track though (maybe facing the opposite direction).

I'm thinking: I could stare at a tree and think, 'Mighty oak who are you?'

And the oak says, "Who am I? Well, I'm a Maple tree, of course."

Next time: "Hi, Maple tree, how are you?"

And the Maple tree says, "I'm fine. But I'm an elm."


And my analogy doesn't make sense at all.

I'm just wondering if ANYONE can EVER pin the tail on the donkey, and if it's even appropriate to do so.

What's important is the chase.

harmony sings
to those who listen
listen closely
and it stops

an attempt to capture
its subtle movement
is to steal the motion
from this spinning top

it's spinning ...

and the poet sees
imagined movement
and builds, builds, builds
(so what if this tower should collapse?)
throwing empty on
fertile soil

while the truth-seeker speaks
to rocks and trees
and makes the movement
within himself
(metaphors are all we have)
and never says a word

Sat, May. 20th, 2006 07:42 pm (UTC)
booraadley: Re: Oh me! oh my! Well, that wasn't full of innuendo now was it?

I bloody forgot to log in.

Shame on me.

"And my analogy doesn't make sense at all."

You're right, it doesn't make sense- in the morning, but at evening o' clock it does.

Is the tree whatever it tells you it is?
Were you sure of what it was intially.
Did you accept it's denial of what you assumed it to be, with ease.

Were you wrong?
Was the tree wrong?
Can it be many things (hmmmmm)
After a while, did it start to look like a different species of tree, consistent with its new name?

"What's important is the chase."

The chase
The search
The dig
For the _ _ _ _

Crosswords can be tedious. The internet can speed up the identification process. I get to pretend I'm good at crosswords this way, and enter competitions giving me the chance to win a holiday.

Have you ever heard of the word 'Awnings'? I hadn't until yesterday.
Smokers huddle underneath them in the rain to get their break-time fixes.
I'm obviously verbally challenged and sheltered.
Kinda like them.


The truthseeker takes
The poet gives.
It's altruism
Wearing a "paradox" cloth badge

Reshaping, recycling
They both like to rearrange.
The truthseeker collects jigsaw pieces
The poet scatters them.

Is there shared ownership between approaches
A marriage of sorts-
What's his is hers?

Uncovered or created
The game of finders keepers takes on a new twist
The truthseeker can't resist
What the poet may choose to desist

The poet in constructing his own world
Covers up fertile ground
The truthseeker views the poet's liberal perceptions
With destructive intentions

Harmony sings to the ear-less in No-man's Land
Creative... destruction lies in the Strait of Hormuz

Mon, May. 22nd, 2006 05:04 am (UTC)

his and hers and they ... and you're staring directly into the sun.

The truthseeker takes
The poet gives.
It's altruism
Wearing a "paradox" cloth badge

No. No. No. Ten times No!

(At least from my perspective.)

circumambulate the symbol,
the broken window
that we peer through,

when we're not covering our eyes
with our "paradox" loin cloths

bending, breaking
bursting, rising
rebirth on the horizon

let's not stand under awnings
in the coming of a breaking dawn

we'll dance and play
and laugh a.way
while basking in the midnight sun

to shake the forms
from their hiding
by knocking on the doors of yore

with torches out
we'll scare the cat
and probably be reborn

and "no one really understands that shit you write"

but I enjoy the exchange either way

Got it?

Mon, May. 22nd, 2006 12:48 pm (UTC)

I'll leave a hat out in the rain and hope it collects some water.