Oh my goodness. What a poem! And what a stellar, first-rate (presumed) typo at the top, which amplifies the poem's very greatness!!!! ("like" in place of "live"). I am pondering why sharks don't like forever, and whether it's the concept they don't like (I mean, it is indeed an uncomfy thought) or if it's more just out of fashion; maybe ephemerality is the in-thing. Either way, I also wonder, are sharks a monolith? Maybe there are a few sharks out there who really do fancy the idea of forever. Either way. Truth as something that has to keep moving, like a shark, is absolute peanut-brittle-fudge capacious gloriousness. Thank you for the poem.
Aww, thanks.:) Yes, a typo. I wouldn't presume to speak for the likes of sharks, although now that we've started ... maybe it's that sharks don't like things forever. Or people / other sharks?
oooooooo skein of aspersions is hitting my brain like a basket full of wooly mammoths, all coiled and ready for suture-work. I am glad to hear you'd forswear this carapace. I am wondering what happens to it when it's been forsworn. Does it dry up in the sun? Maybe serve as a cereal bowl for a babe? It might be steel plated and repurposed, upcycled and re-knitted into a Thing that Hangs on a Wall to help build that effervescent, ever-elusive Atmosphere which shop owners and designers lust for. I'm just saying. Maybe there's a market for the thing. Maybe you should look into it. And with the extra cash you could kit out a cold heart. With some of that wool. Woven into a reason, a shout, a future.
oh my goodness. Are the numbers referring to the number of lines in each verse? Are we talking a giant poem here? Hahaha. Or shall I write the whole poem, 32 lines, and then just remove all but lines 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, and 32? The first and last lines will likely be the most interesting anyway. Anyway, I greatly look forward to this!!!
Oh, I meant them as options: 1 or 2 or 4 etc. but now intrigued at the prospect of this fragmented poem, intentionally missing its most interesting lines.
Hi Kate! I'm a little behind but wanted to share with the world my reaction which I sent earlier by email. I love this poem!
A general word for love - brilliant. I love that watch-words and pass-words have archaic hyphenated bodies. "[heart-sound] that not always can climb out" from the throat, oh lord, that's lovely, and bleak. And most of all, the delectable sounds... I read it aloud with pleasure. "one opposed, the other appalled," "a heart-sound that gasps," and this endless gooey sleekness: "a whole crowd soft, or right strident, words written on white sheets or worldly wordless, yet with them. "
And the ghastly realness and severed speechlessness of power that's lost true power and has only the reckless kind.... "tongues out of mouth, the heart on the tongue." Of course words fall silent. Who could talk with that being the way of things? Who could communicate?
I found out that sharks don't like forever.
It was one of those facts I'd been quoting for years
till someone (Shane) said, "Do they?"
Dogmas fall like leaves. Peeling wallpaper
under wallpaper
under ...
Persistent is a crime!
But we have to persist.
Our persistence is a sacred act.
Sacred because doomed.
Nos morituri ...
Truth.
What is truth?
It must be something that has to keep moving
like a shark.
Oh my goodness. What a poem! And what a stellar, first-rate (presumed) typo at the top, which amplifies the poem's very greatness!!!! ("like" in place of "live"). I am pondering why sharks don't like forever, and whether it's the concept they don't like (I mean, it is indeed an uncomfy thought) or if it's more just out of fashion; maybe ephemerality is the in-thing. Either way, I also wonder, are sharks a monolith? Maybe there are a few sharks out there who really do fancy the idea of forever. Either way. Truth as something that has to keep moving, like a shark, is absolute peanut-brittle-fudge capacious gloriousness. Thank you for the poem.
Aww, thanks.:) Yes, a typo. I wouldn't presume to speak for the likes of sharks, although now that we've started ... maybe it's that sharks don't like things forever. Or people / other sharks?
Sarcasm
you mean cartoon,
hiding my anger,
3 syllables? 2? can we be more direct?
In truth, I wouldn't hide
behind your skein of aspersions.
Real Armadilloes know better.
In truth, I would join, I would reveal,
forswear this carapace.
oooooooo skein of aspersions is hitting my brain like a basket full of wooly mammoths, all coiled and ready for suture-work. I am glad to hear you'd forswear this carapace. I am wondering what happens to it when it's been forsworn. Does it dry up in the sun? Maybe serve as a cereal bowl for a babe? It might be steel plated and repurposed, upcycled and re-knitted into a Thing that Hangs on a Wall to help build that effervescent, ever-elusive Atmosphere which shop owners and designers lust for. I'm just saying. Maybe there's a market for the thing. Maybe you should look into it. And with the extra cash you could kit out a cold heart. With some of that wool. Woven into a reason, a shout, a future.
I guess I broke the line rule ...
TOPIC: tears, hagiography, lambs and lions, time, a storm.
MOOD: grim, innocent, incantatory, confused.
NUMBER: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32.
WORDS: treachery, telemetry, bruised, shorn, fluke, paradox, craft, fraught, weigh, deep, end, face, calamity, grace, lathe, haunt.
oh my goodness. Are the numbers referring to the number of lines in each verse? Are we talking a giant poem here? Hahaha. Or shall I write the whole poem, 32 lines, and then just remove all but lines 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, and 32? The first and last lines will likely be the most interesting anyway. Anyway, I greatly look forward to this!!!
Oh, I meant them as options: 1 or 2 or 4 etc. but now intrigued at the prospect of this fragmented poem, intentionally missing its most interesting lines.
Heart in your throat
The only thing needed is a song, coming from ruins, the persistent, yet untraceable
accents, a nameless singer, to ease the heart, if only, and the while, the only thing
we do not need is dogma, we need a word for love, accent-free, general, coming
from the throats of the sacred, the traceable marchers, one opposed, the other
appalled, the bond we make against watch-words, burning pass-words, a heart-
sound that gasps in your throat, that not always can climb out, if only, and that while,
where ever we march, a whole crowd soft, or right strident, words written on white
sheets or worldly wordless, yet with them. Note the worldwide hunters hunting other
worldwide hunters, leading to leaders, tongues out of mouth, the heart on the tongue.
Words fall silent somehow.
TOPIC = accents
MOOD = earnest/pleading
NUMBER OF LINES: 10 (title not included)
FIVE WORDS INCLUDED = persistent, dogma, sacred, burn(ing), gasp(s)
Hi Kate! I'm a little behind but wanted to share with the world my reaction which I sent earlier by email. I love this poem!
A general word for love - brilliant. I love that watch-words and pass-words have archaic hyphenated bodies. "[heart-sound] that not always can climb out" from the throat, oh lord, that's lovely, and bleak. And most of all, the delectable sounds... I read it aloud with pleasure. "one opposed, the other appalled," "a heart-sound that gasps," and this endless gooey sleekness: "a whole crowd soft, or right strident, words written on white sheets or worldly wordless, yet with them. "
And the ghastly realness and severed speechlessness of power that's lost true power and has only the reckless kind.... "tongues out of mouth, the heart on the tongue." Of course words fall silent. Who could talk with that being the way of things? Who could communicate?