I have long been intrigued by Johannes S H Bjerg's poetry ...what he calls "fragments" ...and wanted to emulate him sometime,... just for the heck of it, to see where they take me; but never got down to doing it. Yesterday seemed a good day though to indulge in that, particularly after reading one of his latest posts. I have not been able to write anything worthwhile lately, so i just took a deep breath and plunged headlong.
And here is what i wrote.
And here is what i wrote.
shadows jostling at the window unknown
in the sink unwashed dishes and three clouds
parting the midnight fog trumpeting tuskers
they are not coming back, but i keep the porch lights on
blindfolded i can see as far as the sky (and the sky is where my left shoulder is)
in the sink unwashed dishes and three clouds
parting the midnight fog trumpeting tuskers
they are not coming back, but i keep the porch lights on
blindfolded i can see as far as the sky (and the sky is where my left shoulder is)
labored breath the barometer turning purple
why the phone keeps on ringing at the bottom of river
just a handful of sesame seeds, but the guilt, the guilt
the universe is too young for you, black dwarf, or you are
vanitas
Though this has been inspired by JHSB and is an unabashed attempt (which failed) at emulating his style, the content, after a while, took me where i hadn't planned to go at all.
Now i must go and get an appointment with the psychiatrist too.
