sAyingsometHing

Art, poetry, digital art, photography, criticism and essays.

5 Apr 2007

*

Word follows word
as foot fall follows foot fall

I wonder what I am supposed to
have missed, by the
look on your face it was something
silent but vicious.

You dish the rumours by your succulent flesh
words follow numbers
the man I am the woman YOU are
makes II
What have I missed?

Your eyes are snakes/apples in the fading daylight.
You say "I don't know what to make of it,"
that I believe is sensible and
suggests thought, as you stand
smiling, your eyes beacons through a stare
of truth.

I lifted my hand and, eyes closed
you followed my lead,
enigmatic and spurious,
my right outstretched hand
your right outstretched hand
my silent fall to the floor
your silent fall to the floor

I told you how, at a job interview
the interviewer told me how the government
had shut down his mother's
nursing home

You told me that, recently you were
approached by an aggressive salesman
fundraising for the elderly.


eyes are spies our necessary lies
stares are strewn across our real-
life places, Internet pages
tin cans alive with prying eyes


"take our temperatures doc"
pseudo psychoses
or the insanity of sanity?
"reconsiousness", to light a spliff
poetry to curb the myth
or to light the truth?
I never loved you
You never loved me
I always loved you
You always loved me
twice lit or half as dim,
"reconsciousness" of half as much again
then twice as much our
hypereal days are over.
the fiction of our raison d'etre
was never clearer.
As ever my poem's too long.
Too long for who, I've
never been quite sure.
Not for me, my imagined audience?
Who the hell are they?
I sometimes watch you dancing across
the studio, the stage private moments
public spaces,
knowing, never knowing.
I watch your flow of limbs, your
transition of flesh
your hair splayed
over white shoulders
"Lifts me high up in the air and I fall over his shoulders."
"You can come back if you want?"
because of time I am at a loss for words.
It is by the intangible that I reason
and measure and form my life,
to hear others claim that its foundation
is reason, that truth is measurable
and comprehensible.
I've never heard such bullshit!
By force of habit or, by
necessity word follows word
as foot fall follows foot fall
You'll tell me, by not telling me
we live a failing democracy.
In time they'll reach the same conclusion
by not thinking its fruition.

5 Comments:

  • At 1:45 pm , Blogger crescent said...

    Blogger can be very annoying... it won't accept spaces between verses from half way down the poem to the end lol

     
  • At 7:08 pm , Blogger carmen said...

    wonderful spaces, crescent, wonderful spaces....



    [hypereal - the flesh make me too elderly
    while my eyes watch with fiction over

    enigmatic and double his eyes through light hear II

    aggressive wonder becomes comprehensible
    "I've helled it all"
    and still my habit spies over
    the transition to over

    your "who" measures live fiction
    fundraising for eyes /for snakes/for apples

    half reason /tin rumours]

     
  • At 9:07 pm , Blogger crescent said...

    Thank you Carmen - I appreciate it :-)

     
  • At 10:03 pm , Blogger neon said...

    pseudo
    psychosesor beacons
    insanity of sanity?

    "reconsiousness"
    What have
    I missed? truth.

    thanks Simon

     
  • At 7:34 am , Blogger carmen said...

    crescent....joy..for over...

    thanks.

     

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