:: Wednesday, December 04, 2002 ::

sometimes every touch burns

"i need some peace and quiet"
she said
marched out of the room
lathered up a bar of solitude
washed off all the noise
rinsed herself with introspection
rubbed silence in like lotion

sometimes every sound is deafening
sometimes every touch burns
sometimes all light is blinding

it's getting hard to see



This is what I came up with last night. It's not good but it's the first complete... well, the first complete anything that I have written in quite a long time.

Actually, I wrote something else last night. A haiku. I don't know if I mentioned that I'm a fan of haiku... perhaps it's part of my ongoing battle with the art of being concise. If you can write something profound in only 17 syllables, you know you're getting somewhere.



fragility

naked porcelain
so smooth and vulnerable
i'm easily scratched



Again, I'm not proud of it exactly, but more of the fact that I actually wrote something for once.

Feedback?

(listening to: Alan Ginsberg & Tom Waits - America (Closing Time))

:: Katy 3:51 p.m. [+] :: ::