A poem, algorithmically made from [my] tweets.
Oddly beautiful.
Made by Poetweet.
Discovered via the always excellent, Web Curios.
“Yours here”
A poem, algorithmically made from [my] tweets.
Oddly beautiful.
Tag: poem
thick
There is a __ layer of thickness;
.a coating of caffeine.
//swim/ming in stodge; a heaviness –
Like wading through the swamps at the bottom of a giant cafetiere,
sticky in the rich – gooey mud of frustration.
The goodness is gone, t, h, e, r, e, -/ Â is only sludge.
Residue.Â
– Sept 27th, 2012
‘gorgeous and affecting’
Ah –
just friends
“Let’s just be friends” came the reply.
“What? Just friends? Can I ask why?”
Panic flickered across her eye,
she looked away and began to sigh.
Go on, say it. Say that lie…
“I like you a lot, you’re a really nice guy…”
I heard the “…but” as I gazed at the sky
It’s always me, I just wanna know why.
— JW, 1995
adrift
again, wind comes unrolling out of the east
like a prophet, judging with a heft of its
palm the weight of things, taking measure
with spanned fingers of the space between,
while wolf-fish graze the floor of the sea,
the teeth inside their smiles white as beacons.
plenty of time to consider the dimensions
of your loss, how it might be listed
on manifests. still, what you have left
is better than you deserve. and sufficient,
if one holds on hard enough, to keep you afloat
a narrow band of slip shows now
beneath night’s skirt on the horizon,
and widens. once again as you watch, light,
with its hunger, will have the world.
– James Sallis
Jasmine flowers of Lebanon
Jasmine flowers of Lebanon,
fall softly on dusty streets.
The fragrance soft, enraptures,
stops me dead upon my feet.
Around me buildings crumble,
scars of war so plain to see.
Yet nature’s beauty thrives right here;
this flower has ensnared me.
Soaring, its scent takes me.
Higher, higher still.
Skies, bright blue. Sun, pure yellow.
I’ve nearly had my fill.
But wait, one second longer.
Let me taste its wonder once more.
Savour this moment, this fleeting kiss,
Fair flower maiden, no more.
Things are in my head
Things are in my head; unformed thoughts with no shape or thread.
They shimmer and shake, become solid and break…
Brain fire burning, intense and blue.
Leading me somewhere, some place true.
Destined for things that have yet passed,
life taking shape, filling out at last.
We’re nowhere near done, but far from the start.
My ardent thoughts give me strength of heart.
— Moleskine Entry 26/05/10