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

Thursday, November 11, 2010

142/365 - 146/365


09.30.10
On the pond’s surface,
balanced between reflection
and self. A wasp rests.

10.01.10
No words for tonight—
my vocabulary fails.
Sleep consumes my thoughts.

10.02.10
Sinuses clog up
throat, ears, nose. I drown in phlegm.
Fever burning tight.

10.03.10
Considering the fractured approach again for poetry. Say 10 or 15 haiku loosely bound by subject. In this case: crows, blackbirds, grackles. Whereas my earlier tanka project consisted of individual poems, this flock of haiku would be a collective thought—a grouped series of verses.

Or a new approach entirely—five stanzas of five lines composed of five syllables (5 x 5 x 5) under a common binding title. In this manner the individual poem would at least tread into the territory of a secondary collection, a part two within the manuscript. And still require some craft and experimentation.

Grading more papers.
Watching the clock shift forward.
While thinking of crows.

10.04.10
A foul mood rises,
from the pit of my stomach,
ascending the spine.

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