Cacoethes Scribendi

18 August 2006

Filed under: Meaningful nonsense,poem,Society & Intellect — Jane @ 9:51 am

I am fighting a fight of no consequence.
No sense; no barracks or dagger-tipped fence; no construct erected
with trembling sinews and thighs, clenched tense: the marrow of human
effort.

In the pregnant open space reserved (before)
for shifting, groaning pilings;
for proud walls, cracked, stained, thin walls slumping humpbacked [who
would call these anything but;
flawed] walls;
for flawed walls washed translucent, buoyed tall by the tired hands of
men who curl weary bodies down to sleep under worn pillows of hope;
for sighing edifices erected by hands and suspended by love and prayer
and hope; for hands from which coarse brown fingers unfold with
seeping tears
skin too thin to hold the blood falling gold on the damp packed earth.
In the pregnant open space worked by man, by his days and weeks and months,
beside the mottled slopes of blackened earth carved out, cried out;
beneath splintered sooted skies:

It is here,
It is in this space,

that protruding stone, translucent, cold as ice
flails, wheezing, upward
out of barren furrows beaten black with blood
that ran from living hands
to seep,
heavy
and
deep,

into this space to rest

patterned by chance
in pallid serpentine rings
whose sylphic strings murmur
hushed and somber
songs to me
of inconsequence.

[written a few months ago.]

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22 July 2006

Filed under: Books/Film/Music/Art,People,Rant,Society & Intellect — Jane @ 8:50 pm

not fond at the moment. of (m)any.

BUT fleur de mal is gorgeous. never read the french before; blowing my mind.
ah, baudelaire…one for whom my fondness will never wane. je t’aime, mon ami.

6 July 2006

5 highly irritating questions

…accompanied by their missing answers.

1. why am i writing?

2. who am i writing to or for?

3. why am i writing *here*?

4. which voice shall i use this time?

5. why should i use that particular voice?

and a BONUS SIXTH!!! question:

6. how can we write with any confidence whatsoever when there is SO MUCH that we have yet to read?

?????????

and those,
my friend,
are my questions.

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