Thursday, September 10, 2009

Seasons

That sour chorus. She stinks again in the wind. That sour chorus - she stinks again.
Taking so long to get to this point?!
Why a forced effort?
Why so long?... To this point.
That's what I said, or said, or repeated. Again. Like I said.
Making sense of your ambiguity, my distressed sensefulness - repeated in the keys. That they sing, again, or again. Still, they sing a melody.
Arising just like my waiting for it. A crescendo: another emotional symphony.

Whereby this used to happen constantly, the feeling comes in bursts know. Artificial insemination of the arbitrary words.
Could I say?
Would I say?
As if I said.
And yet, the keys dance up and down... then the words end, and begin again...u underused
Or overused
Still, an acknowledged syntax,
Punctuating the seemingly easiest feelings.
Sad little tugs at the meaning of little interaction.
Perpetual advances
Genisis at the tips of your opening explanation
A testament amidst a rotten festering dearth
Bleakness so negative it reflects the colors from a personal testamanet
Of nothingness.
Classic ignorance, detachment from usual boundaries - bearing, holding, tightening, to the seams of a contradictory intuition - waves of big word after big word after word after word after big word.
That makes me feel better.

Cuz I had words that I had at the end of the words where they would make less sense but a little
MEANING
MEANING
MEANING MEANING MEAINNG MEANING MEANING MEANING MEANING MEANING MEANNIG MEANING
I could type it over and over again
So please stop with the constant badgering.
In peaceful futures of equilibriums and halos - angelic figures of mathematical and practical approach -
Then...
When is there meaning?
Like I don't make any sense.
Where is there Meaning?
A look through some meaning?
A rhetorical device, some thing that sounded good once.
How many times can I say it, and it still
Well it still will
The meaning in that
Like a still meaning
Something.
That is usually the case

And yet, vague posturing amongst a scarecrow.
That a corn row, a delicate line of tightly woven synthesis
Picking something, a raisin off the vine,
Cheesy dream deffered, some frustrating tale
Then a darkened plot of moral terpitude and saddened hopes
The rock rolling down hill
A man chased down after.
To me to you to me and the meaning:
Little to him.
Pushing it up
Again and
and.


II.
Angry chatter against the wind. Like something I said. Or that she might have discussed at some point
But we've come along way these days.
Optical emissions react so quickly in fiberoptic spectrums.
A fear of the unexplainable
Yeah. Fearfulness... of... something... I felt...once...
Like it hurt so much... relax.
A militarized half-ling, a miserable little pissant.
I looked for silence. And it came.
Such a tasty treat, she sat down beside me in a quiet spectrum of washing emptiness.
And you listen to the same song again
You listen to the same song again
You just listend
Again and again