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i cant work out fi this worsk . i cant work out if it should be prose 

 

A Conversation In Letters Between H and Joe

 

your absence smells more than you

at least now

there are seven dandelions on the table

i put them there, i guess

thats all for now

over and out

 

h

 

***

 

the body imposes strangeness

on the mind

just as the number one

imposes strangeness on

one rock

(it is worse if there are two rocks

something like marriage)

im glad we met whenwherewhyhow(who)

we did: otherwise it would have been water

like in the glass

 

more later, ofc

 

j.o.e.

 

***

 

the wind's gone a bit mental

ill try just looking in the other direction

this was peter's tactic also -

remember when all of us considered

envelopes the limit of sacred (meaning,

before the period of "damp light",

- remember chloe?)

 

your old dog is older and older -

ive been counting. his fur

is hair and his eyes, well,

they are going into nose

somehow. are you ready

for winter? because ready or not

its coming! i may visit too.

 

sincerely as fuck, for once

 

h.

 

***

 

dont come.

the curtains are flapping and

i hate myself.

its just one of those decades.

take care, at least

of your body

and her.

 

thats it.

 

***

 

see picture attached.

i mean see, really.

 

h.

 

***

 

thanks. you're one of the funny ones.

i no longer doubt that, not even

mid-dream. wake me up sometime and

you can see (dick!) for yourself,

if that word means anything anymore/ever.

 

all the best for now

 

jj oo ee

 

***

 

i think its cake season?

the ocean seems to have informed me of this

(even in competition with

guls: god is great!)

i was in it yesterday, up to

both my ankles. i was thinking

of your hips

all of breakfast. it was long

and continental. the waiter looked

like two cows

without anywhere to go. if your mother

hadnt died i think

we could have made another 3 months

out of our love? or my father, i mean.

 

whatever. enjoy autumn.

 

h.

 

***

 

still water.

sparkling water.

changing your name by deed poll.

still water.

sparkling water.

 

joeee

 

***

 

you do cryptic worse than batman.

to say nothing about everything else

literally. but your ears are prettier

 

than his whole life (inc

robin). i wish there were two moons sometimes.

 

h

 

***

 

leave off, willya

 

***

 

yeah

 

h.

 

p.s.

okay.

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good ones above

 

-

 

while my companions are enjoying the light from the sun and also cheese,

the light becomes hard and bumps into me,

i keep myself afoot,

a monastery expecting me to fall slides under with open doors,

relieved that i don't enter despite its invitation,

it stays there and is touched by sunlight,

it buzzes like a bee,

and when it is cold,

the custodian walks out and sets a fire to my shadow,

and it spreads to the tombs,

burning and unaffected,

and we gather around it with relief again

 

-

 

 

the pavement has been turned and shuffled,

and its water granted way of speech,

to the roadworkers it cites from texts,

about the various water phenomena,

all of which warm and self-defeating

 

-

 

 

the city has a system that i partake in,

of teachers showing to children thorns taken from the convergence of tree juice and sewer water,

and about the bugs which find it pleasurable to slide down the thorns,

and also the bugs which will walk out of the room,

(i worry that those could go to harm my dearest people),

but centuries later,

when most matter has dissolved,

there will be a continuous rattling sound,

of thorns rattling,

and another rattling sound,

of the bugs rattling

oh foppe

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I've been writing some stream of conciousness stuff lately. Feedback would be appreciated. These are my four most recent and are just nuggets of ideas. I'll probably turn these into songs if I feel comfortable enough with them.

 
Halcyon
 
One misstep and you fall into the river
You sink below, fast as a stone, and you can’t remember
The light on the surface, your future endeavors
Maybe in another life
Maybe another time
You fall, weightless, painless
The fish will tell you it’s okay
It was meant to be this way
You have no use for the air
The outside world isn’t fair
Stay here and develop a set of gills
Alcohol and sleeping pills
The surface becomes a distant star
And you start to forget who you are
Your back hits the bottom
Rock bottom
And the day seems so far away
So you stay, it’s comfortable anyway
Maybe another time
Maybe in another life
 
Chasing Shadows
 
Like a drug, I just want another line
Take me to another place, I do it over and over
Maybe I'll change, maybe it'll change my mind
I just want it to feel like it did the first time
 
One of Two (Slowing To A Crawl)
 
A lapse in confidence
A momentary faltering
The anxiety comes creeping in
Hitting rock bottom
and crawling on the floor
Stumbling through the black
Reaching for the door
Feel the monster between your ears
Nameless darkness and shapeless fears
I am him, he is me
But One of two are not the same
He is I, I am he
We only occupy the same space
 
Stock. Home. Sim. Drone.
 
A city of consumers, and it'll eat your soul
Chew you up, spit you out, or swallow you whole
But it's all you've ever known
Dead end jobs, born again with God
You won't find your future, staring into the computer
But it's all you've ever known
I won't be okay with just thoughts on a page
But it's all I've ever known

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bleg

 

youth being quiet

gnarly worth of trumpet

hot feeling in outside

worth in inside

father of force

child housed 

lamps point away

monk under window

worth of unyellows

quiet book stays

iron floor and balloon

tree dense, mother escapes

moth whirls into legs

window opens cliff

rust smiles

father of force

window opens iron

moth escapes into balloon

 

 

--

 

 

a peeling stick to tie itself into crosses

grown in forest

peels itself away into our car place

moves on our saliva

wrestles before our fences our men

our head of church

a ceremonial binding

from the forest to the cross it ties to

the cross dry from the distant stick

allowed there

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I mean that the first poem is great (the second too). It reads sort of like the important first row of loops on a knitting needle which is always surprising and odd? The emphasis on each word? Terse? And obscure. I really like both of them I hope you write more. Bleg. It is magnetic? Sorry for all the question marks I am insecure.

 

Today a korean girl I met tried to teach me how to do a standing hip sway and that weirdly completelu sucked out all of my confidence or whatever the word is.

 

Phildel, your poem and the blogpost after are I don't know if this is the right word, passionate? They have an unnerving transparently obsessive/passionate tone. I mean it is immediately identifiable or I can see myself in it. I'm terrible at responses.

 

I've read river's before and I like them all. Probably more than like at this point. I think they have clarity.

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Thanks for your responses, they help a lot! And hey, passionate? I never thought about it; I usually try to sound as detached as possible.

 

Fellow man (I don't know your name, sorry ;-; ), I really like your style! Both poems seem like a chaotic enumeration; cryptic and clear at the same time...? I like how tense they are, how they make you want to keep reading until the end, like a good narrative; but they're not easily understood, in fact, I guess the imagery makes it hard in the first read. Like, they give the illusion of being open/shallow only for you to start reading and find out that no, they're absolutely not.

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how i understand dsfadsfa's ''passionate'' fits with your description of ''detached'' too.  a chapel servant who quietly goes about their tasks but with a fierce gaze to the position of the relics, their shinyness, the voices and motions of the communion. a veiled ember

 

thank you for your interpreations. i dont know what to think about my writings

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how i understand dsfadsfa's ''passionate'' fits with your description of ''detached'' too. a chapel servant who quietly goes about their tasks but with a fierce gaze to the position of the relics, their shinyness, the voices and motions of the communion. a veiled ember

 

thank you for your interpreations. i dont know what to think about my writings

I love this expression, can I steal it for a song? :D

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deaf barrel around the scenery

near earth to

notice mountains

purchased grease speaks

for the hooves

like ants beyond the rocks

pitted against the blobs

leaks under the horizon

shy water

forgot the sun

something is still moving

feathers cooperate 

after the patience

...shrieking in a dot

oh grass tidies itself

for another faster emotion

is a warm night

a fingernail

into a funny sphere of muscles

bites there the apple

prizes stir 

as muddy bicycles

lakeside food spread into 

the graves

then noise to swing it out

a false commitment

see animals mute

so then

without intention

a breeze trickles in the

sunny dawn

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