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        supposing
               I let my worries in-
                flate my olfactory bulb–
                 a                      ball-
                             oon crowding
                             oral     vents,
                                       doubl-
                                     ing
                      my last line of air
                                      defense
                                         there
                from
          behind   my  nose;
                                            its
                                  talcy,
                             orange
                                  texture
               stretch           -ing
                                   celebrous,
                                            bl-
                             oody stains
                                     into
                      my   nugatory
                                      mucous
                      mem-
                                      brane-

     thus
              supposing                    (bluntly),
               with
            reminding           rubber
               whiffs,
                I
                 snort         (a    pons)
               this
                 stress
                I have chose;
asthehotairofhope             in          me,
                                        surgically
                         (grows)

            oxygen
                     mole-              cules
    (s)hatter                     in
   the   top of   my
        head–
        where
   the  (h)air     is
        th                                -in–
                      ly           -ing
            to                     de-
                flate
                     my
    -self                           in
          bed–
        where     my
          he-       li-            um
    -     breath                -ing
            to-                     ngue
         doth         expose,

        supposing
   t-  hat
                I’m al-
        read-        y
        dead:
              
                I’ll asph         -
                       y-
                          x
    -                  i-
                  ate
                     men-
   t’                 ly            in
    -s
   -t-   ead.  
©2005-2009 ~thegingerb-readman
:iconthegingerb-readman:

Author's Comments

...on thought-induced head injury.

12/12/04

Comments


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:iconneondiod:
Very interesting.../almost/ impossible to follow at the end. Like how you cut words up!
Images are queer, cool, strange. will look for more.

--
Save the Whales!
:iconfraterm:
as ~cataplasia !'d i do as well. This and dolia are quite a job to read, but rewarding in their intensity, it is very internal, this more than the other, and there is a time slicing and rhythmic internal rhyme alongside(this has more of this) an almost runic visual structure(dolia more of that).

--
Guph, go feed the lizard.
-----------------------------------------
state-of-the-art bionic-cyberechidna

The Tao is like a glob pattern:
used but never used up.
It is like the extern void:
filled with infinite possibilities.
:iconthegingerb-readman:
that tough to read, eh? I thought for sure everyone was familiar enough with Cummings to mistake me, at least, for a poseur of his work. I'd love for you to give me a more than general comment on either/both pieces of your mention; my puzzle is craving its pudding back together.

--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.
:iconfraterm:
Haven't yet seen cummings of this extreme (vivisect|dissect)itude. Except maybe r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r. I'll hit 'em up when i find some more time again.

--
Guph, go feed the lizard.
-----------------------------------------
state-of-the-art bionic-cyberechidna

The Tao is like a glob pattern:
used but never used up.
It is like the extern void:
filled with infinite possibilities.
:iconthegingerb-readman:
grasshopper isn't really a straight read-through though; pretty much all my pieces are. I'll try to find a Cummings poem that epitomizes what I'm talking about.

--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.
:iconfraterm:
that would be great for a comparison.

--
Guph, go feed the lizard.
-----------------------------------------
state-of-the-art bionic-cyberechidna

The Tao is like a glob pattern:
used but never used up.
It is like the extern void:
filled with infinite possibilities.
:iconthegingerb-readman:
perhaps there's no single poem by Cummings that does everything this one does, but most of the elements are contained in separate poems of his. for example, the techniques I use here are as if a combination of those in VI and VII from Cumming's "Impressions" in his book Tulips & Chimneys; particularly the latter "stanza" in this excerpt from VII:

i was considering how
within night's loose
sack a star's
nibbling in-

fin
-i-
tes-
i
-mal-
ly devours

. . .


I would urge you to review VI on your own for the "rest of the story," since I'm unable to properly offset it (without great tedium) in the confines of this particular comment box.

make sense?

--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.
:iconfraterm:
Deviantarts limitations in the mode of poetic typography for casual commentary are rather legendary. I'll have to grab the book, thanks for the reference!

--
Guph, go feed the lizard.
-----------------------------------------
state-of-the-art bionic-cyberechidna

The Tao is like a glob pattern:
used but never used up.
It is like the extern void:
filled with infinite possibilities.
:iconthegingerb-readman:
sure.

--
I AM the Saint of blasphemy.

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July 6, 2005
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