January 2012
17 posts
4 tags
The ranked vanguard of trees contemplate, their signals cast between the channels of pathways, brightened by a luminous apparition. Arriving in the company of his own footsteps, he retains a personal shadow, mapping a meditative route among the artificial light. With his worn soles accepting their position, the void chimes with an answering movement. She comes baring their difference, foot falls...
readingwritingandarithmetic asked: Thank you for your comment Danny. Much appreciated :)
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My poetry consists of portraying several distinct and complex individuals, all of whom are me.
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My days pass with an established order; I read incessantly, write compulsively, and occasionally attempt to change the lives of others.
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The late light petrifies the roof slate, Negotiating its staged progression through A street’s labyrinthine, quietened intention,
Its tributary alternatives, Finally gaining territory at neutral ground; I am left to contemplate the fullness of your going.
The enactment is ritual, assertion of the familiar, Under red smoke retaining its hoardings Of dead landmarks and forgotten foot falls,
I...
Hey guys, it looks like my account has been hacked sometime in the last couple of days, so sorry for all the spamming posts, that wasn’t me. Big thank you to those who messaged me about it, much appreciated.
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After all words, in the distractions of the familiar, under the red smoke retaining its hoardings of dead landmarks and forgotten foot falls, I accept that I will come to disguise you as a stranger, assuming anything, even in the seperate proximity of this lit room, to be an agreement between strangers.
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A poem is never complete, its language, its voices and its significance may alter with time; Finally, it will outlive you.
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I’d quite like to sit around in the afternoons, writing poems or songs or stories, reading whenever I choose to read, not trawling through books trying to make enough stick to answer a three hour Classics paper. Pesky degree.
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Project for a song-
The night shapes you with memory/ Complete in ceremony/ Robed in the density/ Of things unseen/ And the street is only/
Something imagined/ something dreamed/ Unreal/ Movements across a screen/ And if I left your heart with its heart/ We may lie apart/ fragments seeking symmetry/
Our path becomes only/ something true/ Something revealed/ leading from the city/ When we have searched contours and...
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The day is looking up:
Got a 68 on my creative writing portfolio, with one piece noted as being ‘of publishable quality’. Yes, please.
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Meetings Taken, Meetings Missed
The last Wednesday you were delayed, Traffic and circumstance, and, as often, Our ideals and actualities travelled differing lines, Their landmarks alternate, powering toward Some anomaly town, where they might converge,
Gaining a foothold finally on unmoving platform, And be startled to sight the other, expectant, Hands stitched into impatient pockets, Saying, ‘I knew, one...
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After Hours
Public affection has assigned us, we are admitted To barren corners and late dives, a hastened immediacy, Needing no more invitation than a doorway’s personal light, Suddenly thrown, any indication of meaning.
The spirits lessen into acknowledgement, and the cigarettes To dust, nothing is proved or disproved, And we are devoted to symbolism, the multiple Interchanging lines, but are first...
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People and books are both intriguing examples, except books often have more interesting things to say.
Always choose a girl who reads; If your advances fail, you can spend a whole night discussing literature, which is never a loss.
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An hour progressing its energies into the next, The clocks all conforming to a chime, And time ages unsparingly, under the lonely stars.
