Part of a Process

Posted on December 14, 2007 by randomyriad

Devastation is Not the End.

Life moves everywhere in time,

never ceasing its toil to reclaim the blasted land.

Dust will be soil.

Ashes will be a beginning.

Life is process.

Hear yourself speak.

Listen to the sound,

The music unwrapped in pieces

of broken thoughts put back together

in another mind.

It floats in the air, shattered.

I wonder, how do I speak wonder?

Is this room connected to the world?

I am trying to remember

how a puddle of water on a shiny leaf

looks like a piece of ice

in the sunshine of a rainy day.

Posted in All part of the process, Art in Nature, music, poetry, Questions and riddles, the end is the beginning, wonder world | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

A Fragment of an Underdone Poem

Posted on December 13, 2007 by randomyriad

I wanted to work on some of the imagery more and make it longer, but I have run out of time and must, per the experiment, release it into the wilds of the internet. And off to bed am I, for tomorrow is another working day and I have got to get my rest.

Overhead, It was all Vibrating, again


In the beginning,

Still shaken,

Always aware of the forces

Gathering in the hub

Under my feet,

I appeared,

A sword frozen inside a diamond of air.

I crouched, recovering

And began to feed

Flawlessly prepared anatomical specimens

Into the machinery

In the middle of the branches

Working with just the sharp edges

Of clouds.

Posted in All part of the process, Dreamtime, poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

A Recycled Poem

Posted on December 12, 2007 by randomyriad

I couldn’t get my inspiration in gear today so I rewrote a poem from a few years ago. It seemed better when I changed it a little.

I Will Sing You A Silent Song


Where is my joy?

In the quiet songs

deep in the pattern of wood grain.

Talk is my fear.

Words are ripped from my thoughts

by idiot devils

shredding of bits with their jabbering claws.

When I talk,

The music is no longer

in a night full of cricket buzz,

Fire crackle,

your hand just touching the back of my neck.

Posted in music, paying attention, poetry, wonder world | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

A Twice Found Note

Posted on December 10, 2007 by randomyriad

From a note that was on my desk on a Monday afternoon

that I found later in my pocket

as I searched for parking meter change:

Louis, the blind man

came to see

about covering the door windows.

He says he can hang the shades over the door,

but nobody can come in or out

when they are down.

Will this work?

Posted in All part of the process, Found Art, Other peoples words, playing games, poetry, Questions and riddles, Self-Experiments, thinking in words, working world | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Today’s Poem Is Brought to You by Sunday Telemarketing

Posted on December 9, 2007 by randomyriad

The Household Body

“Can I speak with the head of the house?” The Telemarketer asked.

I thought: Do houses have heads, and can you speak with them?

“No,” I said.

But then I thought: If a person is the head, then who is the anus?

The colon? maybe someone full of shit?

The feet and legs hold the weight,

hands and arms lift,

While the heart keeps pumping.

Bodies need all the pieces to work.

In small houses people would have multiple functions like:

Head/arm/stomach,

Or heart/knee/spleen

someone of course would have to flow around

red and blue with good things for everyone and taking away the bad.

What about sex? Do houses have a gender?

Are houses neutral or hermaphroditic?

Maybe this happens in the natural course of formation.

Some people have no house; is there a body for them?

Are they just parts in space floating?

A heart on a street corner,

a little toe somewhere out there cold and alone?

Posted in All part of the process, developing relationships, Family, House and home, playing games, poetry, Questions and riddles, Self-Experiments, thinking in words | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments