Remember inky?

From coffeeachiever: Think of 10 albums, CDs, LPs (if you're over 40) that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life. Dug into your soul. Music that brought you to life when you heard it. Royally affected you, kicked you in the wazoo, literally socked you in the gut, is what I mean. Then when you finish, tag 10 others, including me. Make sure you copy and paste this part so they know the drill. Get the idea now? Good. Tag, you're it!
( Herbert von Karajan... )

I think I have a superpower.
It's one I think I can't control.
The power works subconsciously
And scares me to my bitter soul.

I got the news as I drove home
Eight years ago (this very day),
A man had died, a man I knew--
The man who stole my love away.

His fearful widow, full of tears,
the greatest love of my short life.
I cut her heart and cut her child.
My guilty will was the knife.

Am I the fulcrum upon which pivots,
Karma's lever, scythe, and hammer?
Does my mind speak in secret words,
The syllables of Death's own grammar?

I couldn't find my love today,
She gave her heart to another.
I thought the man was my friend.
Betrayed and failed by my brother.

I think I have a superpower.
It's one I think I can't control.
But days like this, I can't help wish,
I'd flex my mind and take my toll.


Dear Romie: I'm sorry.

Some artists and physicists,
working their wares in metal and acrylic and quantum theory,
build Time from ceaseless moments,
an ever-present path we dance upon,
an array of immutable seconds waiting for us to step into them,
our past, permanent and passed.

And while their construction pilfers our choices from us,
filches our will like coins from our pockets,
I find a small comfort in believing
that a series of moments breathe
where our fingers still entwine amidst our laughter.

Go wage your war, go sail your sea.
Fight your daily battles
against adulterers and monsters and unstill waters.

In the soft spaces
between the giants and enchantresses,
when echoes of battle cries no longer trouble your ears
drowned in the lulling sounds of the waves,
think of me, amidst maidservants and suitors--

The din of their usurping bacchanals
carry about in the hallways of my thought,
foundering our shared serenity
as I unravel the threads
of the shroud of our coupling.

When the bow-string is stretched taut and creaking,
trained upon those who would bury us
stay your hand and come to our bed,
so I can feel your warmth and weight,
my anchor.

batnandu: yeah
batnandu: if i grew up exposed to that language [Ogg Vorbis audio link -tps]
batnandu: i'd probably be all into lego video games too
batnandu: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lion-Eating_Poet_in_the_Stone_Den
batnandu: your people really freak me out

Going through one of the various boxes full of papers I have strewn about the house, I found the following hastily-written haiku, which I seem to recall is from an episode of That 70s Show:

My heart aches with pain.
When I see you, I vomit.
Die away from me.

No matter what the game, playing against someone whose skill level is significantly better than yours is extremely taxing. Unless your opponent is educationally inclined, the comparative speed in which he assesses a given situation and executes his moves will only serve to unbalance you, and make your game worse.

Chess pisses me off.


Let's try something...

I couldn't find your mother today.
I recall when she gave you to me,
warm and soft, her laughter
still adorned on her cheeks like rouge.

It's been too long since I've seen her,
and I know she sits,
veiled and shivering,
smelling of hankerchiefs and salt
amongst the tightly-pressed lips and fake smiles,
the hissing murmurs
which always follow a cold body.


Sigh. Ok. I couldn't work on that anymore. It sucked.

Word of the moment: Fend
Current Mood: frustrated

Some verse:

The muffled klaxon of a car alarm
plays its own 7:00 A.M. cock's crow
piercing the dense foam of plugs
stinking of sweat and earwax.

And the sunlight,
too weak to warm the odd patch of skin
exposed without blankets,
wends its way through oddly-bent metal blinds,
to repaint my dreams
with skies translucent and blood-red.

Word of the minute: ellipsis
Current Mood: stuffy
Current Music: Enterprise