b,,,,
l,,,,,,,
a,,,,,,,,,
d,,,,
e,

o
,f

,,,g
,,,,,r
,,,,,,,a
,,,s
,s

b
,,,,e
,,,,,n
d
s,,

Adaptation

-------------------------------------------

I must be standing on a hill,
some way from the village.
I can see the vineyards and gardens,
thatched roofs. The stars adrift
in light cloud cover, almost golden
the rolling hills like
a tide about to wash in.
An explosion at the point of perspective,
searing the canvass,
what could have been a tree,
surely a spotlight in the sky,
a fleet of bombers and the hills
the head of a hammer.
Pardon my grammar.
It was a starry, starry night.

-------------------------------------------

the opening of Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett:

A country road. A tree.
Evening.

Estragon, sitting on a low mound, is trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhausted, rests, tries again. As before....

-------------------------------------------

from Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra:

Here the young man fell silent. And Zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they were standing, and spoke thus:

'This tree stands here alone on the mountainside; it has grown up high above man and animal.

'And if it wished to speak, it would find no one who understood it: so high has it grown.

'Now it waits and waits -- yet what is it waiting for? It lives too near the seat of the clouds: is it waiting, perhaps, for the first lightening?'

----------------------------------------------

-----------------------------
................................................................................................................................................... is silence............................lack of speech..................time remaining...............as punctuation...........the envelope................words left out...........................what is memory............see the photographs............................shoebox...............kite................burial ground for breakfast.......................................traffic light..........what is the truth about.........when there are many possible truths about..........what are we..................spaces between................................................................................................................................................................................
-----------------------------

Thus Spake the Crow...: Broken...

To thank the Crow for so many years of support and caring...

Visit tartx blog (You know, that "BWO" with a nice silhouette of a crow on the side) to learn more about blogging without obligation. Please feel free to share any ideas or thoughts about why writing in this form is important to you. Why are you a blogger?

Any comments you'd like to leave for the Crow, who is a teacher to so many of us, leave them here. I'll see if there isn't some way to pass them on.

Sincerely,
The Hopper-scribe

Thus Spake the Crow...: Broken...

-------------------
-------------------
-------------------
I'd almost forgotten about it until the other day.
When it came it was bubble wrapped and taped,
The tinsel and ribbon poking out through the gaps.
As the UPS guy handed it to me it rattled,

Something inside gave way and the package shifted,
The sound of broken glass. Forget how much you don't want this,
Forget that you should run out into the streets,
Heave it into the air! "It must must have been damaged

In transport," he said. "Hope it wasn't anything important."
He turned and walked away, smug in his assurance
It was delivered as it had been packaged.
The card was stapled on the outside.

Has Anyone Seen Fern?

colourable, best described
windows, frames laying an overcheck
on the path, dark roots a
hush spreads the mist
settling like a song,
corduroy.

id -- an answer to echo

id

semiotic spaces

ungrammatically linguistic

primal utterance of elements

subatomic fractals seed

flower

seed

flowering swirling mass of subjectivity

never fully formed absolute

only uncertainty exploring forgetting itself

id

Meta-Mathematics

----------

1 + 1 = 2
this is called deja vu

what do you think
are you reading this new

or have you been here
B4

----------

# of funerals you've attended
over
# of weddings you've attended
is a function of your indifference

----------

( your age x 1.5 ) - 7 = oldest age of lovers you should take

----------

the time it takes a space spider to spin its web is inversely proportional to the reason the ocean bleeds roses in April

----------

happiness divided by regret is ignorance squared

----------

greed to the power of power is insanity
and also equals money
(which we know from previous proofs to be the root of all evil)

----------

surface area of covers you steal

x

surface area of the bed you usurp

=

time you spend in the doghouse

----------

twice nothing is nothing

----------

hope + fear + sun + trees + alone + houses + books + helping + guilt + boldness + self-deprecation + moonlight + childhood + water + writing + perhaps + running + fall + bees + hardwood floors + legs + variety + watermelon + forts in the woods + tears + screaming from the rooftops + coffee + cormorant + freshly cut grass + oranges + doubt + friendship + wind + learning + losing + crawling in the gutters + when it all first came crashing down + sugar + work + what we most want + what was before we remember + all those things that will remain unknown = life

----------

M(everyth(I)ng)E

***which is to say that I am in everything and everything is also in me***

----------

The shortest distance between two points is a writer and a beer.

----------

a dessert often served with ice cream and coming in forms such as pumpkin, hoof, rhubarb, blackberry, entrails, cream of toast, etc. is 3.14159265358979323846... (but I can't tell you why)

----------

1, 2, 3, 4
who's opinion matters more?

2, 4, 6, 8
whose do we appreciate?

not others (CLAP! CLAP!)
not others (CLAP! CLAP!)

----------

horseshoeampersandtruthallpossibleworldshawkslogicsebillieseergofortebussesineronobiliedemistruxsewasinemcowsandux

----------

in the end
everything will be OK

people do whatever they have to do in order to make themselves happy

because if it isn't OK
then it's not the end

----------

your greatest joy is equivalent to your greatest sorrow

----------

the only thing less than your time is the time you don't take listening to other

----------

life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love = life = love ...

Phoenix

Stormdrastic

So it is. All trials are only circles. The hurricane falls into the shore, mingling sand-surf-beach-rocks-electric-air, the false lull before the plunge. The innards of the ocean throws up a curtain of sleet that spreads like a comforter onto a king-sized bed.

==========================================

"You can't rush destiny."

No, I guess you can't. Just like you can't sail around a tempest, for if you did they'd still ask,

"Why were you late?"

And you'd have to say, "It was because of a storm."

Then they'd ask, "It must have been bad?"

And you'd have to say, "I don't know. I sailed around it."

No you just can't rush destiny.

========================================

The moment of not understanding is an opportunity to learn.
-- bell hooks

========================================

I love that all our things are mingled together, love how your stuff is a-clutter, crumple towels, jeans, and bras. I love to find traces of your passing when we're apart, love the way you're spread on the floor like a cyclone.