How many words can I throw together
to make nothing?
word-slayer takes on a whole new meaning
as I wield my weapon of choice.
still
I long to be a word-sleuth (finding truth)
a word-welder (bending thoughts)
a word-barista (brewing love)
a word-buckler (daring to defend hope)
a word-harvester (gathering the lost
& forgotten)
a word-sculptor (chiseling connections
between different worlds)
a meaning-maker,
but how many words will I throw together
before nothing becomes something?
A note on inspirations (or lack thereof): My mind lately has been vacant of thoughts and ideas. Not really sure where to begin or end. I suppose part of that is my mood. I have been very caught inside myself and while I often write to purge, I have been looking for more of an escape. Unfortunately, I am having trouble seeing past the whirlwind within. Anyway, in an attempt to unearth something, I flipped through my notebook and found the opening question of this piece written. It seemed fitting so I went with it. It didn't quite take me were I expected, yet I didn't really expect much so...
if your interested in some real word-smithies, check dVerse Poets Pub...it's OpenLinkNight!
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
A Tale of Love (and Woe) – Lovers' Song #5
 |
| Princess #5 |
 |
| Knight #5 |
This series is a branch-off of a ten act ballad called A Tale of Love and Woe.
Monday, March 24, 2014
A Tale of Love (and Woe) – Lovers' Song #4
 |
| Knight #4 |
 |
| Princess #4 |
This series is a branch-off of a ten act ballad called A Tale of Love and Woe.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
I'll Be Right Here
"You said, ' Young man don't rely on a sword.
Cause your words will outlive even time.'
I've counted my blessings. The rest are for you.
Please listen close for awhile.
And breathe, breathe, deep for me...."
-James
O.A.R. (of a revolution)
Your eyes cling to me - grounding you.
So many words you have yet to shed
spill from your eyes in silent pleas,
but I know all that there is to be said;
your words have always carried me true.
There's no need to speak to this reality,
no need to cling so tight,
I'll be right here;
all you need do is just set yourself free
and breathe, breathe, deep for me.
As the world spins out of control
and you feel yourself ready to fall,
know my words will catch you
wrap you in their warm embrace
holding you safe as you approach the unknown.
Don't get stuck in the turnstile;
so much awaits you on the other side
and I'll be right here
until you can move on with a smile.
(So) please listen close for awhile.
You will never be far from me
for your words I hold in my heart.
There's no need to worry or fret,
so much of who I am is due to you.
Take this moment and just breathe;
allow my words to ring true,
as time steals all we have left
I'll be right here
until you can see your way through.
I've counted my blessings. The rest are for you.
Know when at last the curtain falls,
I will continue to cling to the words.
You've shown me their power,
both to strike down & build up,
and I'll wield them as you implored;
may that be my only crime
as I sing out for you
to a tune I have scored
so your words will forever chime;
you said, "Young man don't rely on a sword.
Cause your words will out live even time."
A note on form: This is a glosa (of sorts). While it maintains the traditional opening cabeza (four line by another "poet" - I put poet in quotes because I tend toward lyrics and therefore song writers as apposed to "pure" poets) and it contains four stanza with 10-lines where the tenth line comes from the cabeza, along with the appropriate rhyme of lines 6, 9 & 10, I deviated slightly by using the lines in reverse order as instead of their given order. I could try to explain my reason for this, but I fear the rambling would turn you away. Now when have I ever let that stop me.
I had trouble with the cabeza. As I mentioned it is supposed to be four lines from another artist's piece. The problem is that in song sometimes you hear breaks where they don't exist or don't hear breaks where they do exist. There was a time when albums included the lyrics...I suppose some still do. But more often than not, the internet provides the resource you can't find else where...but who says they're right. Anyway, it doesn't really matter, I actually have the booklet from the CD and therefore the lines. What I did not expect was the first line wasn't two lines; either that or it's a typo, regardless.... I had thought that I would split them anyway and take the actual last two lines and join them together. Then I had the idea to reverse them and well....(I think that's enough of a ramble.)
Inspiration for this piece: I have to be honest, I'm not quite sure from where this piece erupted. Outside of the cabeza I had no real direction...so I suppose the piece took control of the pen. I admit when I first thought about using these lines for a glosa (before I had ironed out the line breaks) I had thought to follow along the opening lines...speaking to the power of words. I think in the end I stuck more to the "meaning" of the song. Though to be quite honest the lack of direction makes me wonder if the piece meanders around directionless itself.
An aside: There was another reason behind this selection today. This blog recently passed the one year mark. It was a convergence of three things that lead to this blog and its name. One of which was the opening of the cabeza. So...
Cause your words will outlive even time.'
I've counted my blessings. The rest are for you.
Please listen close for awhile.
And breathe, breathe, deep for me...."
-James
O.A.R. (of a revolution)
Your eyes cling to me - grounding you.
So many words you have yet to shed
spill from your eyes in silent pleas,
but I know all that there is to be said;
your words have always carried me true.
There's no need to speak to this reality,
no need to cling so tight,
I'll be right here;
all you need do is just set yourself free
and breathe, breathe, deep for me.
As the world spins out of control
and you feel yourself ready to fall,
know my words will catch you
wrap you in their warm embrace
holding you safe as you approach the unknown.
Don't get stuck in the turnstile;
so much awaits you on the other side
and I'll be right here
until you can move on with a smile.
(So) please listen close for awhile.
You will never be far from me
for your words I hold in my heart.
There's no need to worry or fret,
so much of who I am is due to you.
Take this moment and just breathe;
allow my words to ring true,
as time steals all we have left
I'll be right here
until you can see your way through.
I've counted my blessings. The rest are for you.
Know when at last the curtain falls,
I will continue to cling to the words.
You've shown me their power,
both to strike down & build up,
and I'll wield them as you implored;
may that be my only crime
as I sing out for you
to a tune I have scored
so your words will forever chime;
you said, "Young man don't rely on a sword.
Cause your words will out live even time."
A note on form: This is a glosa (of sorts). While it maintains the traditional opening cabeza (four line by another "poet" - I put poet in quotes because I tend toward lyrics and therefore song writers as apposed to "pure" poets) and it contains four stanza with 10-lines where the tenth line comes from the cabeza, along with the appropriate rhyme of lines 6, 9 & 10, I deviated slightly by using the lines in reverse order as instead of their given order. I could try to explain my reason for this, but I fear the rambling would turn you away. Now when have I ever let that stop me.
I had trouble with the cabeza. As I mentioned it is supposed to be four lines from another artist's piece. The problem is that in song sometimes you hear breaks where they don't exist or don't hear breaks where they do exist. There was a time when albums included the lyrics...I suppose some still do. But more often than not, the internet provides the resource you can't find else where...but who says they're right. Anyway, it doesn't really matter, I actually have the booklet from the CD and therefore the lines. What I did not expect was the first line wasn't two lines; either that or it's a typo, regardless.... I had thought that I would split them anyway and take the actual last two lines and join them together. Then I had the idea to reverse them and well....(I think that's enough of a ramble.)
Inspiration for this piece: I have to be honest, I'm not quite sure from where this piece erupted. Outside of the cabeza I had no real direction...so I suppose the piece took control of the pen. I admit when I first thought about using these lines for a glosa (before I had ironed out the line breaks) I had thought to follow along the opening lines...speaking to the power of words. I think in the end I stuck more to the "meaning" of the song. Though to be quite honest the lack of direction makes me wonder if the piece meanders around directionless itself.
An aside: There was another reason behind this selection today. This blog recently passed the one year mark. It was a convergence of three things that lead to this blog and its name. One of which was the opening of the cabeza. So...
Monday, March 17, 2014
A Tale of Love (and Woe) – Lovers' Song #3
 |
| Princess #3 |
 |
| Knight #3 |
This series is a branch-off of a ten act ballad called A Tale of Love and Woe.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Desensitize
Phase One
I stare - 5 minutes straight -
at my reflection in the mirror
and watched
as the tears forged a path down
along my cheek to the corner
of my mouth
and I'll do it again tomorrow
and the next day & the next day
until
the tears run dry
Phase Two
I will repeat the words over
and over again like a mantra
while I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
- glistening tears creasing my cheeks -
and hold
my breath day after day after day
against the emotions threatening me
until
the tears run dry
Phase Three
With an expel of breath
I'll stutter the words aloud
as I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
focused on the glassy eyes
streaming
tears with each uneasy
word that crosses my lips
until
the tears run dry
Phase Four
I will steel myself and look people
in the eye as I pass them by
my mantra
repeating over and over
tears prickling at the threshold
still
I will lift my eyes to theirs
and focus on simply breathing
until
the tears run dry
Phase Five
Once I conquer
"you are beautiful"
I will work on
"your are loved"
followed by
"you deserve to be happy"
I stare - 5 minutes straight -
at my reflection in the mirror
and watched
as the tears forged a path down
along my cheek to the corner
of my mouth
and I'll do it again tomorrow
and the next day & the next day
until
the tears run dry
Phase Two
I will repeat the words over
and over again like a mantra
while I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
- glistening tears creasing my cheeks -
and hold
my breath day after day after day
against the emotions threatening me
until
the tears run dry
Phase Three
With an expel of breath
I'll stutter the words aloud
as I stare
at my reflection in the mirror
focused on the glassy eyes
streaming
tears with each uneasy
word that crosses my lips
until
the tears run dry
Phase Four
I will steel myself and look people
in the eye as I pass them by
my mantra
repeating over and over
tears prickling at the threshold
still
I will lift my eyes to theirs
and focus on simply breathing
until
the tears run dry
Phase Five
Once I conquer
"you are beautiful"
I will work on
"your are loved"
followed by
"you deserve to be happy"
Friday, March 14, 2014
Pom Seeds
flavors
sweet & tart
burst
on my tongue
obliterate
my senses
kiss me again
Inspiration for this piece: First came the dVerse Poets Pub prompt for Meet the Bar, which asked to write with any and/or all senses except sight. I tried closing my eyes and seeing what might erupt...but I was lost.... Second, this week I ran across at least two poems that had pomegranates in them; it's been awhile since I tasted this delightful fruit. Since discovering it a couple years ago, I admit I've been infatuated with it... Anyway, these two things led to this piece. Not really 100% sure I hit the mark for the prompt; and am well aware that without the title, this could take on a whole different meaning, but....
A note on form: Apparently I've been a short form mood lately. This, like my last post, is a septolet. A cute little number that I've enjoyed exploring in the past particularly through twitter.
An aside: So, seeing as the poem was inspired by a prompt where sight was not to play a role , I chose to type out this piece above. I have, however, also tweeted the original version, which was developed with an app called poetics. This combined words (visually like magnetic poetry) with images. Can you guess what image lay behind this poem?
sweet & tart
burst
on my tongue
obliterate
my senses
kiss me again
Inspiration for this piece: First came the dVerse Poets Pub prompt for Meet the Bar, which asked to write with any and/or all senses except sight. I tried closing my eyes and seeing what might erupt...but I was lost.... Second, this week I ran across at least two poems that had pomegranates in them; it's been awhile since I tasted this delightful fruit. Since discovering it a couple years ago, I admit I've been infatuated with it... Anyway, these two things led to this piece. Not really 100% sure I hit the mark for the prompt; and am well aware that without the title, this could take on a whole different meaning, but....
A note on form: Apparently I've been a short form mood lately. This, like my last post, is a septolet. A cute little number that I've enjoyed exploring in the past particularly through twitter.
An aside: So, seeing as the poem was inspired by a prompt where sight was not to play a role , I chose to type out this piece above. I have, however, also tweeted the original version, which was developed with an app called poetics. This combined words (visually like magnetic poetry) with images. Can you guess what image lay behind this poem?
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
In the Breeze
wishes
ladened with tears
cling to
frayed edges
still breath
expels
seeds of hope
A note on form: This little number is known as a septolet. It is composed of 7 line composed of 14 words set in two stanzas. (It is supposed to create a picture.) I have not really found any solid rules on the number of words per stanza, but in most examples I have seen they are almost never evenly broken up 7 and 7. There is also no specifics on where the break occurs, but most examples break after either the 3rd or 4th line.
While "creating a picture" is still a bit of conundrum, I still enjoy exploring this form. It is short & sweet and makes for a nice "tweetoetry" piece.
Inspiration for this piece: Yesterday over at dVerse Poets Pub, the prompt was on micro poetry inspired by macro photography. I have for the past several years enjoyed (viewing) macro photography. It seems so interesting how you can get up close and personal with such small entities and see so much detail. If I felt like a ramble today, I'd probably go into how perfect macro photography relates to poetry (in comparison to typical photography relating to prose), but lucky you I'm not in a rambling mood. Anyway...it took me a while to find the right photo. I was actually in search of a different photo that I had seen ages ago, but was unable to dig it up. Anyway...in the process I found a (several) pictures of dew drops on dandelion seeds...and seeing as I have a thing for dandelions in their puffy form, I ended up captured (no pun intended).
This piece of micropoetry is 82 characters long; this includes spaces and returns as single characters. Thus keeping within the 140 character limit (and if posted on twitter allows rooms for hashtags and mentions).
The photos that inspired this piece are by Sharon Johnstone.
ladened with tears
cling to
frayed edges
still breath
expels
seeds of hope
A note on form: This little number is known as a septolet. It is composed of 7 line composed of 14 words set in two stanzas. (It is supposed to create a picture.) I have not really found any solid rules on the number of words per stanza, but in most examples I have seen they are almost never evenly broken up 7 and 7. There is also no specifics on where the break occurs, but most examples break after either the 3rd or 4th line.
While "creating a picture" is still a bit of conundrum, I still enjoy exploring this form. It is short & sweet and makes for a nice "tweetoetry" piece.
Inspiration for this piece: Yesterday over at dVerse Poets Pub, the prompt was on micro poetry inspired by macro photography. I have for the past several years enjoyed (viewing) macro photography. It seems so interesting how you can get up close and personal with such small entities and see so much detail. If I felt like a ramble today, I'd probably go into how perfect macro photography relates to poetry (in comparison to typical photography relating to prose), but lucky you I'm not in a rambling mood. Anyway...it took me a while to find the right photo. I was actually in search of a different photo that I had seen ages ago, but was unable to dig it up. Anyway...in the process I found a (several) pictures of dew drops on dandelion seeds...and seeing as I have a thing for dandelions in their puffy form, I ended up captured (no pun intended).
This piece of micropoetry is 82 characters long; this includes spaces and returns as single characters. Thus keeping within the 140 character limit (and if posted on twitter allows rooms for hashtags and mentions).
The photos that inspired this piece are by Sharon Johnstone.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
A Tale of Love (and Woe) – Lovers' Song #2
 |
| Knight #2 |
 |
| Princess #2 |
A note on form and inspiration for this piece: As stated in my previous post, each of these is a katauta. Steaming from a ballad I wrote some time ago, the first is a note from the knight and the second is the response from the princess. While the first pairing utilized the syllable count 5 / 7 / 5 (similar to a haiku–though this form predates the haiku), this pairing is offered up in (from what I've read) the more traditional 5 / 7 / 7.
Monday, March 10, 2014
A Tale of Love (and Woe) – Lovers' Song #1
 |
| Princess #1 |
 |
| Knight #1 |
Inspiration for this piece: I'm not sure what possessed me last night, but I decided to refresh my memory (by reading) of a ballad that I wrote quite some time ago. What had started out as a simple prompt from One Stop Poetry's Form Monday, turned into quite an ordeal. I wrote my first ever ballad on February 7, 2011 called A Tale of Love and Woe: The Knight. Crazy me, who doesn't much care for rhyme or strict meter, wrote a piece that was - in effect - unfinished. During February, I added an additional two acts; March saw Act IV; May unearthed Act V; June and July both sprouted two more acts a piece; with everything coming to a head in the September with the last two acts...and I might add a very pathetic ending...by that time, I was quite exhausted of writing in ballad form (seriously don't read the end...you'll only be disappointed).
Anyway...the two pieces above are a branch off of my ballad, A Tale of Love and Woe. In this (potential series) collection, the two main characters, dubbed knight and princess, correspond with one another in short notes back and forth. This particular pairing speaks to the twos first meeting during Act III, where the knight lost in a state of defeat (which unknown to him was caused by the princess - Act II) meets the princess by the side of pond where he is skipping stones.
A note on form: I chose to explore a form that really has little (or sporadic) history. Part of a long line of ancient Japanese forms from which come the sedōka, choka, and tanka is the katauta. From what I have read this poem (also known as a half-poem or half-song), is either 17 (5 / 7 / 5)or 19 (5 / 7 / 7) syllables long. The feeling I get is that this form is meant to be one half of a conversation...perhaps two lovers conversing back and forth. There is also note of this form consisting of a question-and-answer feel; the first poem posing the question, while the second poem answers it. As there is little really out there about this form, I start to get into muddy waters where it links up with the sedōka, which is basically two 5 / 7 / 7 katauta together. (I have explored this form in the past.)
For this first installment (assuming there will be others), I chose 5 / 7 / 5 - which is similar to the haiku but does not have the same elemental restraints. My thoughts were that a pair initiated by the princess would follow the 17 syllable pattern (to which the knight would reply in kind) and when initiated by the knight would follow the 19 syllable pattern (to which the princess wold reply in kind). I suppose only time will tell if this turns out to be something more than what it is.
Resources on katauta and other ancient Japanese forms:
- Shadow Poetry
- Waka (poetry) on Wikipedia
- Encyclopaedia Britannica
- Poet's Corner blog - Matt Wollacott - Katauta: Getting Witty with Half-Songs
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Poets Anonymous
Hi. I'm RMP
&
I'm a Poet
(((Hi RMP!)))
I'm not sure when
or how
it started - but
I have pieces dating back to 1990.
so...
10...
20...
twenty-four years.
*sigh* I can't say when
precisely
I got (air quotes) hooked,
but it was a (de)vice
I could call upon when the words failed me
&
words
often failed me.
I was/am
what I like to call a bottler
and poetry has allowed me
to take those poisons & expel them
lay them bare at my feet
so I might step over them and
move on for a month...
a week...
a day...
Eventually, like any drug,
the effects wore off
quicker & quicker
and each time the storm threatened to
shake my nerves to the core
I'd (air quotes) write up
& poetry has always been my
drug of choice
providing an escape from this world
stilling the caos
a multifaceted drug
purifying the toxins within
(pure oxygen reminding me to breathe)
every once in awhile I'd quit
go long spans of time with nothing
nothing
the voices in my head buzzing too
loud for me to make sense of
or
too overwhelming to the point of not
caring.
I've been dry now for too long & I'm jonesing
for a fix.
That's why I'm here
to
listen
as your words permeate the air
infusing images
scents
tastes
desires
throughout the room
gathering in the rafters
where I can
draw them to me
fill my lungs
awaken my senses
&
smother the voices so I might
breathe...
just
breathe
& maybe, if I'm lucky, unleash the build up
of impurities running through my veins & threatening
my being.
A bit of ramblings: I began this piece sometime after about a month into a "break" in my writing. It didn't really get very far...the piece not the "break." While I have technically written a handful of pieces (I've dubbed poetics due to the app I use to create them), from the start of August to mid-February I have been silent. As I mention in the piece this is not all that unusual. I have often gone through phases, but each time I find my way back. The difference is in the past I was never so conscience of the silence. I'm not 100% sure what brought me back, but it did begin with visiting and reading a variety of voices...silently sitting at the Sidewalk Cafe just absorbing. Eventually, I found myself stepping back through the doors...opening up my notebook & writing. Since, I have been making a conscience effort to write and (even more so) visit & read what others have to offered.
But back to this piece...while I started this past July, I (after finding my way back) decided it was time to finish it up. I had thought to have it up for last weeks OLN, but time got away from me and while I had added quite a bit more to it, I only managed to finish it today. Maybe it's better this way...I probably would have help off until I could almost guarantee that I'd be the last one in the door (less people around then) and ended holding my breath instead of doing as the poem says and "breathe... just breathe..."
Yet another hurdle in my poetic journey to added to the list.
&
I'm a Poet
(((Hi RMP!)))
I'm not sure when
or how
it started - but
I have pieces dating back to 1990.
so...
10...
20...
twenty-four years.
*sigh* I can't say when
precisely
I got (air quotes) hooked,
but it was a (de)vice
I could call upon when the words failed me
&
words
often failed me.
I was/am
what I like to call a bottler
and poetry has allowed me
to take those poisons & expel them
lay them bare at my feet
so I might step over them and
move on for a month...
a week...
a day...
Eventually, like any drug,
the effects wore off
quicker & quicker
and each time the storm threatened to
shake my nerves to the core
I'd (air quotes) write up
& poetry has always been my
drug of choice
providing an escape from this world
stilling the caos
a multifaceted drug
purifying the toxins within
(pure oxygen reminding me to breathe)
every once in awhile I'd quit
go long spans of time with nothing
nothing
the voices in my head buzzing too
loud for me to make sense of
or
too overwhelming to the point of not
caring.
I've been dry now for too long & I'm jonesing
for a fix.
That's why I'm here
to
listen
as your words permeate the air
infusing images
scents
tastes
desires
throughout the room
gathering in the rafters
where I can
draw them to me
fill my lungs
awaken my senses
&
smother the voices so I might
breathe...
just
breathe
& maybe, if I'm lucky, unleash the build up
of impurities running through my veins & threatening
my being.
A bit of ramblings: I began this piece sometime after about a month into a "break" in my writing. It didn't really get very far...the piece not the "break." While I have technically written a handful of pieces (I've dubbed poetics due to the app I use to create them), from the start of August to mid-February I have been silent. As I mention in the piece this is not all that unusual. I have often gone through phases, but each time I find my way back. The difference is in the past I was never so conscience of the silence. I'm not 100% sure what brought me back, but it did begin with visiting and reading a variety of voices...silently sitting at the Sidewalk Cafe just absorbing. Eventually, I found myself stepping back through the doors...opening up my notebook & writing. Since, I have been making a conscience effort to write and (even more so) visit & read what others have to offered.
But back to this piece...while I started this past July, I (after finding my way back) decided it was time to finish it up. I had thought to have it up for last weeks OLN, but time got away from me and while I had added quite a bit more to it, I only managed to finish it today. Maybe it's better this way...I probably would have help off until I could almost guarantee that I'd be the last one in the door (less people around then) and ended holding my breath instead of doing as the poem says and "breathe... just breathe..."
Yet another hurdle in my poetic journey to added to the list.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Buried Deep (& Yet to Break the Surface)
A bit of rambling: This is all I have. I started a piece...more than started really...but I can't bring myself to finish it, let alone post it. And so this is all I can offer up at the moment in response to the Poetics prompt for this week over at dVerse Poets Pub. And maybe this is enough. I tweeted this approximately a year after starting my previous (and first) blog, ...don't open...don't throw away... after reflecting on the my first year actively posting my poetry (and other ramblings) on the blogosphere. In many ways, that year I stepped outside of myself. I would say that makes this a pertinent revelation in my poetic evolution.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Sevenling (She believes in...)
She believes in happily ever after, in
monsters under the bed, & objects imbued
with magic ("Mirror, Mirror on the wall...)
She fears falling in love, the monster
buried deep within, & looking at her own
reflection ("Who is the fairest of them all?")
She only lets her heart roam free when the full moon graces the evening sky.
A note on form: This, as the title so eloquently states, is a sevenling. From the moment I first came across this form to the several times I've been exposed to it since, I still don't feel like I really have a handle on this form. The guidelines seem to vague to me and no matter how many times I read about the form or see examples I still feel at a loss. Of course, that doesn't stop me form making it my own nunetheless.
monsters under the bed, & objects imbued
with magic ("Mirror, Mirror on the wall...)
She fears falling in love, the monster
buried deep within, & looking at her own
reflection ("Who is the fairest of them all?")
She only lets her heart roam free when the full moon graces the evening sky.
A note on form: This, as the title so eloquently states, is a sevenling. From the moment I first came across this form to the several times I've been exposed to it since, I still don't feel like I really have a handle on this form. The guidelines seem to vague to me and no matter how many times I read about the form or see examples I still feel at a loss. Of course, that doesn't stop me form making it my own nunetheless.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
(in)Visible
There is a line between
you & me
we play hopscotch across it
entering
each other's worlds
yet
never crossing paths
You glimpse a side of me
hidden from the world at large –
those who can touch & see me
or rather the hologram
I project out
so in truth they cannot
see or touch
not really
not more than I will allow
but you & I
connected by + separated by
this line between us
or maybe it's these lines
(perpendicular lines)
allowing me to be – to you –
the opposite reciprocal that
perpendicular lines exist upon
for these lines that lay between
you & me
allow me to be in-tangible
and yet
touched & seen as no one
here
standing beside me can claim
Behind the math: When I first pictured the line in lay across separating like cutting a room in half, then it switched creating a conduit between us. Together the lines form perpendicular lines. The interesting thing about perpendicular lines is that their slopes are opposite (one positive, one negative) reciprocals (3/4 vs 4/3). And somehow this idea just felt fitting to the idea that in one case the touchable was untouchable, the seen was unseen vs. the untouchable being touchable and the unseen being seen. Anyway, it made sense in my head. Originally, the way I had fit it in felt wrong...threw off the flow. And so I was about to get rid of it completely before I managed to find a way for it to fit better within the flow of the piece.
Inspiration for this piece (part 1): This began with the inkling of a prompt that would be presented at dVerse Poets Pub for their Poetics prompt about invisible. At first, I thought of the line as the invisible entity, but as the piece moved forward, it took on a new meaning.
Inspiration for this piece (part 2): This is for all of the insane people (and I mean insane with all the love and affection possible) that visit here.
you & me
we play hopscotch across it
entering
each other's worlds
yet
never crossing paths
You glimpse a side of me
hidden from the world at large –
those who can touch & see me
or rather the hologram
I project out
so in truth they cannot
see or touch
not really
not more than I will allow
but you & I
connected by + separated by
this line between us
or maybe it's these lines
(perpendicular lines)
allowing me to be – to you –
the opposite reciprocal that
perpendicular lines exist upon
for these lines that lay between
you & me
allow me to be in-tangible
and yet
touched & seen as no one
here
standing beside me can claim
Behind the math: When I first pictured the line in lay across separating like cutting a room in half, then it switched creating a conduit between us. Together the lines form perpendicular lines. The interesting thing about perpendicular lines is that their slopes are opposite (one positive, one negative) reciprocals (3/4 vs 4/3). And somehow this idea just felt fitting to the idea that in one case the touchable was untouchable, the seen was unseen vs. the untouchable being touchable and the unseen being seen. Anyway, it made sense in my head. Originally, the way I had fit it in felt wrong...threw off the flow. And so I was about to get rid of it completely before I managed to find a way for it to fit better within the flow of the piece.
Inspiration for this piece (part 1): This began with the inkling of a prompt that would be presented at dVerse Poets Pub for their Poetics prompt about invisible. At first, I thought of the line as the invisible entity, but as the piece moved forward, it took on a new meaning.
Inspiration for this piece (part 2): This is for all of the insane people (and I mean insane with all the love and affection possible) that visit here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)