The experiment (original) (raw)

Death Talk...	[03 Mar 2009\|10:46pm]
[ mood \| deep & dark ] I have noticed as of late, there has been a resurgence of conversations encompassing death. Perhaps this is a sign of the times we now find ourselves surrounded by? Perhaps it is the seasonal outcome of Winter's closing? Perhaps it is that when one dances frivolously in the presence of the Dark Lord that one simply is more receptive to its unspoken voice, hearing echoes in the words of others and seeing vague reflections within their faces?
post comment

[03 Mar 2009|10:46pm]

[ **mood** |

deep & dark ] I have noticed as of late, there has been a resurgence of conversations encompassing death. Perhaps this is a sign of the times we now find ourselves surrounded by? Perhaps it is the seasonal outcome of Winter's closing? Perhaps it is that when one dances frivolously in the presence of the Dark Lord that one simply is more receptive to its unspoken voice, hearing echoes in the words of others and seeing vague reflections within their faces?

post comment

	[27 Nov 2007\|12:49pm]
The ability... To give and to accept with the sincerity... Is already a Favor... Moreover, it does not require any gratitude...
post comment

	[02 Nov 2007\|01:36pm]
In the childhood, I was happy without any reason… Even one sunny sprinkle made me tremble! Now my happiness has so many conditions … From weather and health - up to the finance and policy! Moreover, something always remains not executed... In addition, this "something" blocks the road... To such a nice feeling as happiness...
post comment

	[25 Oct 2007\|01:50pm]
You did not choose the date of your birth... You did not choose the country in which to be born... You did not choose the color of your skin... Parents and heredity... Now you precisely choose everything!Congratulations! However, it is already late! Moreover, it is too ridiculous...
1 comment\|post comment

you wish to impose your will to God?!	[24 Oct 2007\|01:42pm]
I have come into the church …I have heard your prays … «Yes there will be my will! »...So you pray and you beg … very much wish to impose your will to God …That is what for are all these temples and sacrifices!God’s will does not need any approve … When we ask for something this means that God is not competent...Moreover, we know better about our needs! Nevertheless, God does not require our help! Relax and calm down... Accept That What It Is! It is Its Will and Its Favor!
post comment

you wish to impose your will to God?!

[24 Oct 2007|01:42pm]

I have come into the church …I have heard your prays … «Yes there will be my will! »...So you pray and you beg … very much wish to impose your will to God …That is what for are all these temples and sacrifices!God’s will does not need any approve … When we ask for something this means that God is not competent...Moreover, we know better about our needs! Nevertheless, God does not require our help! Relax and calm down... Accept That What It Is! It is Its Will and Its Favor!

post comment

	[21 Oct 2007\|08:54pm]
We do not appreciate things that come easy to us…Moreover, we do not feel sorry for the snow in spring…And it is already to late when we start realizing…That there is no time left to live…That the life is gone…We start to think of the time… When there is a little of it left…We are waiting for the happiness…When it is gone…I want you to be full of everything!Today!Tomorrow!In a hundred years!
post comment

[21 Oct 2007|08:54pm]

We do not appreciate things that come easy to us…Moreover, we do not feel sorry for the snow in spring…And it is already to late when we start realizing…That there is no time left to live…That the life is gone…We start to think of the time… When there is a little of it left…We are waiting for the happiness…When it is gone…I want you to be full of everything!Today!Tomorrow!In a hundred years!

post comment

divide disassembled caanan canon	[04 Oct 2007\|05:21pm]
dirty Windows, clouded view. Vista delayed delighted dawdledachieve plateau, snow drifted dreamed higher, climbed flat feet(ed).Ache evening, ire and foot foetid bill.Built alighted and soar(roar lioness estactic, pneumatic pumpedbled hard wrenching, plumbed depth defyingdependence denselyreamed. Linked clumpill tempted plate,let deals eddy--I stayed dancing.‘til tempered fatefor platelets edemademanded pass word.
1 comment\|post comment

divide disassembled caanan canon

[04 Oct 2007|05:21pm]

dirty Windows, clouded view. Vista delayed delighted dawdledachieve plateau, snow drifted dreamed higher, climbed flat feet(ed).Ache evening, ire and foot foetid bill.Built alighted and soar(roar lioness estactic, pneumatic pumpedbled hard wrenching, plumbed depth defyingdependence denselyreamed. Linked clumpill tempted plate,let deals eddy--I stayed dancing.‘til tempered fatefor platelets edemademanded pass word.

1 comment|post comment

prostate cancer	[25 Jul 2007\|03:40am]
god forbidoops too lateapostate postratedgodup for bid, biddyebay bitty babyacross lakego darfur iBidi_Bis_ in bed, if this pro-statecan serveopposite rate_a post, please rate:god forbida prostrate apostate postdateprostate diagnosisdie /gnosiscan serve fruit?flesh cancer re:place god for ebay,(ibid.)
1 comment\|post comment

To Sarah, after the covenant	[06 Jun 2007\|05:52am]
From uswill a clan be born.With you, a tribe of gypsiesfluid as the waterbetween cracks in concrete.which feed the destraughting roots.which tear up sidewalk,and roar open avenue.How descendant will become a peopleempire buildersout of ruined earthand how they will wage—wage people and wage war and rage,like our ancestorswho we are to become.How cities grow to engulfwill they multiply, how oursons and daughters are factorsto trace We, root of tree and -triarchy.For usa story passed for generatea wave of lifelines crashagainst the steely shore(steely? do I really dare?For tresses fall cross your shoulderfrom your curls let downfor these,For empires fallas surely as the crowds alightfrom flight. they will spread,to the corners of the planetand wefrom whenceprogenit evry continent.We will writeour love song in the generationsthat, once forgot, willstill move the rhythm.play high and low to a chorusof a thousand unhearing ears,which will still curvejust like yours.
post comment

To Sarah, after the covenant

[06 Jun 2007|05:52am]

From uswill a clan be born.With you, a tribe of gypsiesfluid as the waterbetween cracks in concrete.which feed the destraughting roots.which tear up sidewalk,and roar open avenue.How descendant will become a peopleempire buildersout of ruined earthand how they will wage—wage people and wage war and rage,like our ancestorswho we are to become.How cities grow to engulfwill they multiply, how oursons and daughters are factorsto trace We, root of tree and -triarchy.For usa story passed for generatea wave of lifelines crashagainst the steely shore(steely? do I really dare?For tresses fall cross your shoulderfrom your curls let downfor these,For empires fallas surely as the crowds alightfrom flight. they will spread,to the corners of the planetand wefrom whenceprogenit evry continent.We will writeour love song in the generationsthat, once forgot, willstill move the rhythm.play high and low to a chorusof a thousand unhearing ears,which will still curvejust like yours.

post comment

catalyzed conversion to strange matter	[04 Jun 2007\|12:54am]
........... It's dead. There's nothing else here, just the one. Below and above is white. You can see through it, though. The floor. The bottom's all exposed. Blackened, the fire might have done it. Water's gone away. But you could still stand on it, on the line of nothing, staring below forever at the blank. Maybe you can't go there, though. You might not be supposed to see it. Maybe it's God's, or someone else's. A white graveyard, just one dead thing, waiting for one more. And then it's gone forever. It's so close now that I could touch it. Necrotic brown flesh, falling apart, dying more and more even after death died. It let more out, long ago, when the body was fresh. Juices and pus. It dripped them from the sky; it would tower over everything if there was anything. Dripping on the false floors below it, the invisible holes and stair ducts. And anyone below. Maybe there is something alive here, but it can't be seen. Will they be alive when they come? or crawl on dissipating flesh of former life? will they touch it like I could touch it now and feel it fall on them and bury them die with it be buried in clear and drift drift forever you could climb the branches like me climb up and find the noose waiting wanting to be filled and display proudly its kill will I let it? it won't matter it's got me anyway. falling apart anyway. rot. i lend my body and go away now............
2 comments\|post comment

catalyzed conversion to strange matter

[04 Jun 2007|12:54am]

........... It's dead. There's nothing else here, just the one. Below and above is white. You can see through it, though. The floor. The bottom's all exposed. Blackened, the fire might have done it. Water's gone away. But you could still stand on it, on the line of nothing, staring below forever at the blank. Maybe you can't go there, though. You might not be supposed to see it. Maybe it's God's, or someone else's. A white graveyard, just one dead thing, waiting for one more. And then it's gone forever. It's so close now that I could touch it. Necrotic brown flesh, falling apart, dying more and more even after death died. It let more out, long ago, when the body was fresh. Juices and pus. It dripped them from the sky; it would tower over everything if there was anything. Dripping on the false floors below it, the invisible holes and stair ducts. And anyone below. Maybe there is something alive here, but it can't be seen. Will they be alive when they come? or crawl on dissipating flesh of former life? will they touch it like I could touch it now and feel it fall on them and bury them die with it be buried in clear and drift drift forever you could climb the branches like me climb up and find the noose waiting wanting to be filled and display proudly its kill will I let it? it won't matter it's got me anyway. falling apart anyway. rot. i lend my body and go away now............

2 comments|post comment

	[15 Nov 2006\|03:05pm]
If I were a Jelly Donut...-S. A. KietlinskiIf I were a Jelly Donut,I guess I would have to sit thereOn a silver tray behind glassJust to tempt all those fat peopleOr to make them feel bad about it.Maybe someone will mull overShould they buy me? Can they eat me?How many calories are there?Will my shit go right to their ass?And they'll buy me or just walk out.If I were a Jelly Donut,I think I would be Delicious.
5 comments\|post comment

[15 Nov 2006|03:05pm]

If I were a Jelly Donut...-S. A. KietlinskiIf I were a Jelly Donut,I guess I would have to sit thereOn a silver tray behind glassJust to tempt all those fat peopleOr to make them feel bad about it.Maybe someone will mull overShould they buy me? Can they eat me?How many calories are there?Will my shit go right to their ass?And they'll buy me or just walk out.If I were a Jelly Donut,I think I would be Delicious.

5 comments|post comment

a spell b spelling, c	[14 Nov 2006\|05:09pm]
tohu bohu bohemie:dynachaosty icharosaur,dino manger tofu sawdlbut who behemo hero me?joshuictho annotatemarry icy isister fate,wyrd 'n wary strangel wingsof osirious dismemoriedorphickle vineg nukumbercasper fiendly aghastl-ingsmistery guy-a goya goedmythus missus newt 'n towedneolithic lithi-yumcosmogonoficus thumbkelvin hobby commiecatepinkhomo-sapi licenshundyonicest vinol surrah,historecto-inspecktion!
post comment

a spell b spelling, c

[14 Nov 2006|05:09pm]

tohu bohu bohemie:dynachaosty icharosaur,dino manger tofu sawdlbut who behemo hero me?joshuictho annotatemarry icy isister fate,wyrd 'n wary strangel wingsof osirious dismemoriedorphickle vineg nukumbercasper fiendly aghastl-ingsmistery guy-a goya goedmythus missus newt 'n towedneolithic lithi-yumcosmogonoficus thumbkelvin hobby commiecatepinkhomo-sapi licenshundyonicest vinol surrah,historecto-inspecktion!

post comment

	[01 Sep 2006\|12:22pm]
they miss you, your dreams--so pill a sleep to mend, no pillow eek nor rend orfor paper scritch in reams.later on, scratch and screamswhere mare in time sedate;dark horse can dictate to em-bark fanta caustic extremes.extremities decipher memesintake sign all secret aerietrans lake aegis to argos, not light how’s canary themes?a feline row dental in teamsnow ally fears, allay to tucka lie neatly feral to bed: onethat misses you, it seems.
post comment

[01 Sep 2006|12:22pm]

they miss you, your dreams--so pill a sleep to mend, no pillow eek nor rend orfor paper scritch in reams.later on, scratch and screamswhere mare in time sedate;dark horse can dictate to em-bark fanta caustic extremes.extremities decipher memesintake sign all secret aerietrans lake aegis to argos, not light how’s canary themes?a feline row dental in teamsnow ally fears, allay to tucka lie neatly feral to bed: onethat misses you, it seems.

post comment

bad form	[14 Apr 2005\|02:17pm]
never try to use the word 'rhyme'in a pairing with the word 'time'--it's bad form--like calling yourselfcliche--or trying to sound french.giving advice, too, a terrible mistake,like trying to write sonnets, or imitate--calling the bard familiar, like 'dj shake'it's something kind parents might put on a shelf.i give myself kind words, too,in chicago where the wind blew,broke in forms, like sestinastaken apart. i do speak french,though, and advice from older poets take.it's still a compliment to imitate,if you can rationalise being a fake,sort of, at least to yourself.you can mispronounce 'thyme',or 'nuclear' or bebop, shoo-doo-be-doo,or try to compare to art itself--it's bad form. but dig that trench,if revolutionaries instead of money make,and to other powers let quality rate.pretend to be at walden, oversized lake,and create wordy stories of imaginary elf.
post comment

bad form

[14 Apr 2005|02:17pm]

never try to use the word 'rhyme'in a pairing with the word 'time'--it's bad form--like calling yourselfcliche--or trying to sound french.giving advice, too, a terrible mistake,like trying to write sonnets, or imitate--calling the bard familiar, like 'dj shake'it's something kind parents might put on a shelf.i give myself kind words, too,in chicago where the wind blew,broke in forms, like sestinastaken apart. i do speak french,though, and advice from older poets take.it's still a compliment to imitate,if you can rationalise being a fake,sort of, at least to yourself.you can mispronounce 'thyme',or 'nuclear' or bebop, shoo-doo-be-doo,or try to compare to art itself--it's bad form. but dig that trench,if revolutionaries instead of money make,and to other powers let quality rate.pretend to be at walden, oversized lake,and create wordy stories of imaginary elf.

post comment

sestina	[13 Apr 2005\|08:28pm]
a room, an exercise in wordswas full with. wewere only sixto begin with, but had needof art like bizarre gentlemenof revolutions. alright, a sort of "don't pass to the right,mary," went on without wordsand not all only menwere we.so share the need,that barrel serves six.a round of sixin revolt outright--from each, the needfor alotted words,and elevated we,merry gentlemennot gentile, menor women count to sixbefore verbal, wedraw swords.one for all, right?it is duelity we need.what is it we need?if in being gentle, men-kind could be called alrightwithout signs of apocalypse (six,was it? or more?) wordswould compensate, could we?so gathered all around, wefrom each one needthe selection of words(if you would, gentlemen)it is a sestinawe are to all write.alright gentlemen, we need six words.
post comment

sestina

[13 Apr 2005|08:28pm]

a room, an exercise in wordswas full with. wewere only sixto begin with, but had needof art like bizarre gentlemenof revolutions. alright, a sort of "don't pass to the right,mary," went on without wordsand not all only menwere we.so share the need,that barrel serves six.a round of sixin revolt outright--from each, the needfor alotted words,and elevated we,merry gentlemennot gentile, menor women count to sixbefore verbal, wedraw swords.one for all, right?it is duelity we need.what is it we need?if in being gentle, men-kind could be called alrightwithout signs of apocalypse (six,was it? or more?) wordswould compensate, could we?so gathered all around, wefrom each one needthe selection of words(if you would, gentlemen)it is a sestinawe are to all write.alright gentlemen, we need six words.

post comment

	[06 Apr 2005\|04:18pm]
To Edlifelong achievements kind ofcardboardtwo sheets and inside corrugatedin writing moments find the hard wordto stamp my name correct, and datedand read by those elect, elatedsat with you, the house and Melvin too(the speaker) all for quorum waitedmy words split two thousand twelve in twomy hands grave taboo sand delve intofor miraculous epiphanyinstead I withdrew handle vein bluedeath of form a jealous empathyrecycled, incomplete sonnet, I
post comment

[06 Apr 2005|04:18pm]

To Edlifelong achievements kind ofcardboardtwo sheets and inside corrugatedin writing moments find the hard wordto stamp my name correct, and datedand read by those elect, elatedsat with you, the house and Melvin too(the speaker) all for quorum waitedmy words split two thousand twelve in twomy hands grave taboo sand delve intofor miraculous epiphanyinstead I withdrew handle vein bluedeath of form a jealous empathyrecycled, incomplete sonnet, I

post comment

about spring or construction workers	[24 Feb 2005\|05:17am]
into my earlying in winterand one side of my face ispressed ot the ground.I am listening forthe warmth inthe concrete, pleadingto rise again.I am walking on wordsnot spoken, trippingon the cracks inwhat I didn't tell them,and greetings cracks inconcrete, fall and sink in; plantflowers.I am dreaming,balancing on beamsand in a moment,flight is achieved--a swan dive.
post comment

	[22 Feb 2005\|07:54pm]
When a man began dancing; piece-meal, he was incomplete, but spin ing and flow ing as silk in the wind around his shrine. With a shot, he fell back, but silk does not touch the ground; it floats. As a crane, he flew, soaring high on the rmal winds, in a circle, round and round, a papier--mâché creature with awkward movements. Carrying a banner, the crane, a million sequined tails of newspapers fell behind as it dived in to water. The sparkling fish of a crane waved its bannered tail and flew, as hair in the water glides, gravity-defied. Sink into the water, black, disappear.
post comment

[22 Feb 2005|07:54pm]

When a man began dancing; piece-meal, he was incomplete, but spin ing and flow ing as silk in the wind around his shrine. With a shot, he fell back, but silk does not touch the ground; it floats. As a crane, he flew, soaring high on the rmal winds, in a circle, round and round, a papier--mâché creature with awkward movements. Carrying a banner, the crane, a million sequined tails of newspapers fell behind as it dived in to water. The sparkling fish of a crane waved its bannered tail and flew, as hair in the water glides, gravity-defied. Sink into the water, black, disappear.

post comment

navigation
[ viewing \| most recent entries ] [ go	earlier ]