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Codes
Contributed by
neo-theatre
on
Wednesday, 20th June 2007 @ 09:37:34 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
"You're an expert, darling, your flowers
dumb and explicit on nobody's Birthday"-Vicky Feaver.
Not Honeycomb nor the golden
ratios employed by De Bussy, your codes.
I'm down here in the basement
assembling the jigsaw puzzle of a heartbreak,
decopaging the remainder of myself
In some form of logical aggregate
Not explicitly representative who I was before us,
the time which retrospect makes the oreistea
Before we had grown the dark flowers in one another
then thrown them out to the world then thrown the world away,
a sort of forencisist, love-lost sleuth.
Meanwhile, the laundered persiflage
of your tercets hisses by with my name cut into its tail,
like notes, unplayed, the ballistics veterans swear
if a millimeter closer would have planted their bones
in jungular, foreign dirt. How do the codes, the myriad
subtle knives of the barely audible morse present themselves?
Like 4:am stars, the elephants made by civility-tethered animosity,
the superimposed ships and temples of magic eye calendars.
Through abstractions,
Those gigeresque, alien heiroglyphs,
Semi-interpretable animalist sigils,
Cryptic Egyptian, sarcophagul tomb-script
Man-body-bird-head
Man-body-god-head,
Cyanotic/ pinstripe/ Synthetic/ add insider medico latinate/ derivative etcetera
Idiot thesaurus,
I make do with the gist of ether, the epihenomenal mirages,
the extravagant synonyms covering what they know
gaudily as stage trans-sexuals.
This ink makes us like a cube of sugar, capiche?
I'm down here in the basement,
stuck on an addition sum with relevant numeral a zero,
Flunking Ink-blot examinations,
Good Socrates with a forum; the exclusive eschelon
where you turn unrivaled, and a cupful of your words, silently
Drinking,
Drinking,
Drinking,.
Copyright ©
neo-theatre
... [
2007-06-20 09:37:34]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Codes
(User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on
Wednesday, 20th June 2007 @ 12:20:15 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Shoot fire. This is some deep schtuff. You doing okay, man? I have to say those last couple of stanzas were just freaking wonderful. You get me on a metaphorical high, brother. A master with words and thoughts.
Peace, love and hugs,
Laura |
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