Monday, 24 November 2008

Trapped. Talk, Talk.

Many limited interactions
Processing the noises surrounding
An all-too-familiar feeling of isolation.
The sounds mean nothing when I hear.
Shapes manoeuvre around my being,
Almost desperately it appears
The terror of being near this lonely husk
Is in itself
Too much for whispers to handle.
The sum becomes the reverse of the parts,
They chatter and dissolve.
But there is variety, and goodwill at times.
Or so I perceive through a narrow and cracking lens.
One day to purchase an improvement over this.
A goal that may decide the worth of believing
When factors coincide.

Talk, Talk. Trapped.

What ideas do I have? None, say I! Why? For the book did I not read! Say it does not ring true. Fie, it doth ring truer than you know. Accept this and weep, but do not despair. The lecture will be saved! These scoundrels - noisy, noisy scoundrels - are more than likely to sprout one promising perception between them. It must be, by the simple laws of probability!

What reading? Ponder for a long time and hope that no one notices. Look up, provide scope for inspiration, then head back down to write more intangible lessons. Hope. Hope. Is she looking? Why sit in the front? This situation begs for relief. Cavalry doesn't show itself so readily in life. The horn lies silent beside the Gordian Knot. On with it. Perhaps more slowly for a time, this notion is a deep one. Full of double meanings and interesting commentary on the multifaceted subtext of that queer book. Quiet. Did I write too much?

Is that satisfactory? We are searching for more. It would be rude to start reading a different book, I suppose. Then, this is equally so, only far more inconspicuous. Until I'm put on the spot. What is she doing? Too close, far too close. Cramp. Must stop.

Monday, 3 November 2008


What does it, inevitably, lead toward?
When we turn to attempting we are
Still left uncertain.
An Answer?
It is only when we have finished
That we have.

Come. Join us in our invasions.
The body undefined.
Against years and modes of obstacles
That have existed, with only slow erosion,
And have not.

They can mimic and act.
Based on their lives and what they have seen.
Is not that all we can do?
Are we not inventing the past in tandem
With the past creating the future?
Originality is but ignorance,
The subject and their opinion.
State your case, but do not be afraid.
Rest. Be content.