Cacoethes Scribendi

28 September 2006

A Christmas Poem by Christian

Filed under: Nonsense — Jane @ 3:25 am

At once the snow broke slowly
at first a lonely few flew coldly
a prick of frozen nail upon me

but winter’s roaring ranks did swell
embraced with with windy wings angel
us both the dumpling fairy tale

I yearned to leave the pavement streets
and be as she, whose hair danced free
and merry spiting icing sheets

through wisp through cast through swell and fall
i heard the echoed broken carol
sweets and sharp despite the howls

she sang “the snow can’t hurt me now
its chains can’t hold or slow me down
or lose my hold on solid ground

i once felt every pinch of cold
and nestled deep in bundled clothes
to mother all my hardened bones

but girlish youth unearthed so vacant
a hunger formed that pained starvation
lay me at the devils banquet

heated bread and wine of flesh
the taste of blood did fill my breast
but left alone the emptiness

the hall was lit and well adorned
and every course anounced by horns
but deep a christmas child formed

on christmas day she came to me
and left so quickly, silently
i placed her by an old fir tree.

so every christmas season since
when chills from holy realm are sent
and everywhere lurks happiness

i feel no pain, i feel no glee
only petty empty weeks
and frosty flakes in me

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11 July 2006

the worst, she said, is silence.

silence equals madness. madness equals denotation and following, disintegration. alexandria tumbles to the ground, but in the head. structure and form twining fluid and formless between and then into the other’s arms of iron. no paeons to angles and lines embedded in painted shiftings of butterfly wings, say i, if my eyes are sight and blindness one.

if something so small and weightless as silence can shift the balance of the moon i see tonight through panes of shuttered glass.

28 May 2006

Filed under: Meaningful nonsense,Nonsense,poem — Jane @ 9:13 pm

into caverns of mindless sightless silence i flee.
a bowl of apples tucked beneath my arm
i carry with me down the slippery steps
with nothing in my soul but
unread absence.

persistence of fleeting rockbeats, flight
into heat, soft-bedded the tiles
of miles i walk with my soiled
white feet,

and i hear and
i feel and
i see what is real.

and padded chambers of literal wordings
beheld with an absence of visceral
churnings

provides the contender with semblances,
purrings, with stirrings

of what can only be called,
be labeled, (befalls),
relief.

see silence, and be saved.

27 May 2006

Words and words are words – yesnoagainstforwith!

Filed under: Meaningful nonsense,Nonsense — Jane @ 5:36 am

A. What?
a. language, meaning, thought, culture, being, seeing, seeming, contradicting
a. me. my mind. my interior externalized for something, someone, somewhere other than….itself (= me?).

B. Why?
b. because i don’t want to keep it to myself – all this writing that is The perfect Bad Habit – ! (?). that is: if i could stop, i would.

C. How?
c. freely, openly, unrestrainedly, nonsensically, logically, fully, emptily, formly, formlessly — adaptively.

D. Who?
d. oh, well,….ME, i guess. and all (all, all, and all the alls) that entails.
d. everyone else. characters made.

that is…..
here….
you will find….

writing about writing
writing about being
writing about thinking
and
writing about seeing

End.

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