Monday, June 18, 2012

Fragments and a Poem


          those tedious energies you spend on pleasure, your distractions a boredom and endless series of gradated expansions. Faultlessly continue to unsurprise in advances, repetitive destruction and elaborations. Moving forward step by step, and the steps so offset there are circles incised in the dust

Fragment #2

        When I walked through the courtyard I could feel the energy flowing out of a hundred buzzing dorm rooms, the fridaynightenergy palpable in the spring air. Later that night we held each other for what seemed like hours, she was my guide: all knowing , protecting and leading. How could I not help feeling in love? Our bodies felt enmeshed and I associated it with her and not those little blue lies.
            He finally understand it then, months later (a year?) That one night was the tipping point, the miscommunication that spirals up and out then  collapsed under its own flimsy framework. When reminiscing it all seems clean like a historical timeline; he's sure he gets it all now. Calmed after those months of agony his rational sense steps in again, and yet some powerful urge causes him to give her desperate offerings. Thinking back it seems to him he's always felt this way, and yet he can tell. It's all over and long gone and he can't help but feel numb now . Numb and ashamed at the ridiculous harm a mistake makes.

Fragment #3

         Around the door stop holly leaves thick with red berries were tied abundantly .
         -A simple precaution,  he said in passing as we swept through, smiling. The feeling of the holly as I passed through was unmistakeable like a steady gaze and hand pushing me though as though a sacred duty.  twine and other accoutrement hanging from the low ceiling jostled each other without moving for the little space available inside. Dozens of matchsticks rained down before us from the ceiling. An omen perhaps though neither of us mentioned it. On the fire a small crucible was simmering and he stooped and placed an ember on a nearby thurible which sent up a thin stream of sweet smoke. I peered into the warming vessel and attracted by the complex scent stooped next to him,
         -What's in there?
         -Tarmony and Stickle, one's an herb I gather from a high mountain plain, the other sap from a swamp shrub. Keeps the place...clean

Fragment #4

the pure land raiders marauding soldiers of good fortune and ideals, spreaders of perfection and unceasing rightness     by hook and by crook through coercion and force they work    white robed minions of the purest of lands


                 Steely eyed farmer
                           she is a
            girl of immense proportions
          riding up and down the street
          the only person i've ever seen
           hunched over a speeding frame
                       and she's gone
                   the light's changed

Fragment #5

    It was possible that we had all missed it, in our intent watching it passed us by with the rest of the world. Cleverly disguised as a minor armed conflict or backward revolution. Perhaps the clarion call was encoded in the lyrics of a rock song or the lines of a popular movie. Whatever the actuality it became evident one day that the moment we had all been waiting, preparing, yearning for had slipped past us with a dull roar.

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