Sunday, September 14, 2008

Poems' Progress

Writing = work, even if it is a dream. 250 words a day, such a small amount, but often pushed to the moments right before bed. A tired mind works weakened words, but the efforts better than none. Sample poetry produced before bed in the past year, in no organised order and with recent requisite revisions:

from 9/6/2008 around 11:06 PM

...amidst the everlasting...

sieving the dream of gem
from the streak of streaming
stone amidst the foggy night
and uncertainty's the only thing
for sure

surrounded by stars of permanence
before the years reveal their explosions
of transience

even the stars are not immune


combo from 4/27/2008 and 9/8/2008 at 11:17

no proof, as an excuse

boundaries of perception
impertinence of choice
automatic lenses vs. manual focus

editing around the facts
to make them blurred
agreements, neutralizing language
to speak without opinion
the lack of meaning recycled
into mindless rotations

and their isn't time to think about
what i don't have time to do...

from 6/10/2008 11:45 PM

(Intermediate) Reception

neuron snaps
the synapse glows
neon in the highlighted diagram

quicker than the time
for the sound of the door
slam to reach the ear

yet in the synchronized algorithms
melodies that hide the hidden

between action and perception


from 5/14/2008, 10:35 PM

You're Bait (everybody does it)

Varies a little.
Eating from the ground, attempting to
Reel in the cycle of time.
Yet the hook is caught on a rock at the
Bottom, and all the pulling will
Only make the line snap.
Down where the hook remains and the fisherman
Yells useless curses
Damning the river bottom where the
Optimal light radiates
Efflorescent blue, where fish
Stream out
In anticipation of a fly for dinner.
Too bad the line snapped.


From 10/7/2007, around 4:32 PM

Adam's Apple

Heisenberg at large
Murphy at a loss
infant's cry breaks to upturned lips
all eyes on the skies

Life abounds
yet the multiplication
of the potential
of the potential
mushroom clouds
still enclosed
yet not released

one false step

why practice
if its not going to happen

one more misplaced jenga block
leading toward the tower's tumble


From 9/7/2008, around 10:09 PM

who spilled tea on the directions?

tears dripping in the crevices of my mind
and i don't understand

why in the here and now
or when in the future
relating invertedly to the past

yesterday at a diagonal
and perhaps in reverse
is tomorrow
and today will happen
again in a year

if the earth is still spinning in the same direction
the loops on the roller coaster leading me
in permanent upside down stomach flips
but always slowing to a jerking halt
brace yourself to avoid whiplash

too bad the road forked instead of spooned
into the pools of a mirror
reflecting the reality
magnified retrospect
but the riddles obscure the lines
showing the course
for perfection

1 comment:

  1. Rachael,

    I typically fail to appreciate poetry, but verse that has "synchronized algorithms" in it surely can't be bad!

    Putting jokes aside.. I've not mastered words to communicate precisely what I feel reading your poems, but let's put it this way: gladness that your soul is not asleep. Thank you for sharing, and do keep writing.

    By the way I privately think that we are going to see some more mushroom clouds in our generation. But those are mercy, really mercy compared to civil wars and occupations.