Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


A mild headache throbs
over my right eye— pulsing—
a soft summer rain.


A soft summer rain.
Over my right eye— pulsing—
a mild headache throbs.


A soft summer rain—
a mild headache throbs—pulsing—
over my right eye—

Still torn which of the three presents a stronger reaction for the reader. The intent is to show two extremes of emotive thought: pastoral scene/slight physical pain.

In my journal I wrote:
On the edge of the horizon, a thunderstorm slips across the surface of the landscape. From our perspective, it looms up, half covering the dusk with inky shadows, billowing, not bellowing, like a huge canvas sail, edging forward, northwest.

R. shufffles about the kitchen creating a dish for work—the aroma follows me everywhere—green olives, garlic, tomatoes, chicken stock, onion, capers, cilantro... my mouth waters at the assortment.

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