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Monday, March 03, 2008

Sounds from the Workshop

Think and then become the poem.
Write to be between rhythmic
mumblings shaking its break lines.
Begin with the word.

Small vocals. Slow sounds
at breath level. Magic defines
mantras, meditative repetitions,
spells installed in its corners
as traps for demons.

Follow the spell to its
irresistible progression.
Let it catch the dark things
at the back of the mind
and fix them for all to see.

Get lost in nonsense
and near-sense. Arrange sounds
according to its own voice,
each in itself an orchestra
of infinite variety.

Do away with the adjective
and the adverb. Create chaos.
Tease open the taught tightening
of form, loosen the connection
between word and meaning.

Let consciousness' iron control
slip back some slack,
to break with order
and allow the air back in.

Imitate natural sounds
so sincerely as to point of
cliché, or go beyond the obvious
and state loss in love
by a complete blank page.

The caught feeling struggles
not to be put in its cage,
not wanting to live in
a world with new surroundings.
Now realise: The word
is no longer the beginning.

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© CC License 2004-18. Unless otherwise stated all poetry, prose and art are the original work of the blog owner.