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

Sunday, November 14, 2010

157/365 - 161/365


10.15.10
As a lost bundle,
buried deep in blue bed sheets,
the cat curls, asleep.

10.16.10
In another house—
cross town— the same moon rises
over head. Slowly.

10.17.10
On the edge of sleep.
Despite the early night hour—
the day feels wasted.

10.18.10
After weeks of silence, I finally move forward with a new idea: “Learning Spanish” is the tentative title. Playing with my stumbling understanding of a second language.
          phonetics
          language
          syllables
          vowels
          tilda / eñe
                  •
Fluorescent hallway
lit with colorless tones. Then,
a black moth descends.

10.19.10
It is just enough—
innumerable grackles
and slow rising moon.

2 comments:

  1. hello Davit.your works are great!

    In another house—
    cross town— the same moon rises
    over head. Slowly.

    I like it.feel like scene viewing.

    From japan. obiwan.

    ReplyDelete