Saturday, March 24, 2007
with a limited vocabulary:
Today I can't find my inspiration to write the words I feel. Words are weighty, they have meaning, and so shouldn't they be used with precision and care? You see my dilemma is I wanted to write something that would flow like a river, something that would demand another go-though. I wanted to write about loneliness and being content with being alone. I wanted to write about heartbreak and loving being in love. I thought about the poetic potential of making baby quilts with patterns so inconcievable that they're not even patterns. And I thought about a friend who just got married, how I cried, how I'm scared and worried and excited for her. What happens when you think about colors....crayon colors like tickle-me-pink and teddy-bear-brown and sunshine-yellow? I wonder if there are worlds with colors I've never seen before. Some day I think I'll drive around town on a John Deer tractor and just enjoy the absurdity and slowness of the thing. Maybe the best way to explain how I'm feeling is a crash and solemnity and the quietness of a volcano erupting inside of a tornado, going 149 miles per hour in the middle of a Canadian field. Maybe it's a baby sleeping in a cradle with her mom singing silently in the kitchen. Maybe....maybe....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
the search for words is one that constanly concerns
hard to evaluate, and hard to dissapate
easy with simple words that lack description
its like,
with each and every sentance you're sent on a mission
completed sometimes with a feeling of void
a lack of expression always sets standards in new direction
disinguishing the meaning behind the destruction
it is a complicated maze of dilibreate abuse
and writers are trying to show the things that contuse
pooling and bleeding like a newly set course
this was a from the heavens discourse
a strictly abided message of remorse
humanity struggles with expression
except thouse who have reached the higher preception
experience unfolds all the destruction
and now we're sent sentance by sentance on a mission
to find the words with the best discription
of the feelings felt within this ink infection
so take pad to pen
and teach brains how to begin
to use more than the estimated 10 percent
feed it food that is thought
and the grey matter stomach will never grow distraught.
~i swear to you. its all jibberish. how do i work this keyboard?
Love,
Digress.
Not bad for no inspiration and a limited vocabulary. But seriously though, I like how all of your stuff creates images that say more than words ever could.
Post a Comment