Posted in Art Scene, Current Affairs, Literature, Nature, Philosophy, Poetry, Social Commentary, Society, tagged Africa, all, animals, avant garde, avenge, Babylon, bleed, build, cents, chair, challenge, clothing, coal, coarse, cold, collect, commercial, cost, cover, crazy, culture, curtain, definition, dig, domesticated, earth, embellish, exist, fabricate, facade, Far East, feeble, feel, feet, fiber, find, fingers, fire, floor, fond, forest, furnace, generation, glass, grass, grave, greed, handwoven, hard, hides, hour, hundred, hunger, impoverish, jungle, kinesthetic, kingdom, kryptonite, left, limestone, little, look, loss, majestic, meat, men, moon, more, mountains, musk, natural, nomads, olfactory, organic, permeate, pluck, poem, poetry, points, polish, prick, prize, quarry, realm, rest, rivers, sake, satiate, savannah, scent, scour, see, separate, sharp, shelter, Siberia, silicate, skin, slab, stain, stair, steel, stip, sweat, temperate, ten, tombstone, touch, trade, Travel, unique, vanity, walls, want, white, will, winding, wonder, wooden on September 1, 2009|
2 Comments »
The walls are coarse to touch, hard and steely,
it was a challenge not to see but to feel with our fingers
sharp points that will prick a skin and bleed. By then
the grave of the earth has avenged its loss. The stair
is a winding wonder of wooden realm. Forest scent
permeates like sweat staining musk to the olfactory.
Curtains we plucked from the fibers of the grass
that exist in some temperate savannah, polished
and handwoven by the nomads of Siberia.
The glass came from the silicates we scoured
from the rivers of Babylon, coal-fired in a furnace
by a hundred men impoverished with ten cents an hour.
And the floor is a polished limestone quarried
from some majestic mountains of the Far East. White,
cold slab, for our feeble feet resting on a tombstone. The chairs
are fabricated in hides separated from the meat of animals
domesticated and cultured for a trade in an African jungle.
We commercialized the organic in the will of the greedy generation
crazy for the avant garde. We are fond of collecting. Prized.
Natural. Unique. All, for the sake of a want that cannot be satiated.
And at a cost, we hunger for more as we build our little kingdoms,
looking for some definition. Until we find that there is no more left
of the skin of the earth, we have stripped of its clothing
to cover our shelters. Unless we travel to the moon
digging kryptonites to embellish facades of our own vanities.
25.239727
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Solitude Amidst the Maddening Crowd
Kinesthetic
Posted in Art Scene, Current Affairs, Literature, Nature, Philosophy, Poetry, Social Commentary, Society, tagged Africa, all, animals, avant garde, avenge, Babylon, bleed, build, cents, chair, challenge, clothing, coal, coarse, cold, collect, commercial, cost, cover, crazy, culture, curtain, definition, dig, domesticated, earth, embellish, exist, fabricate, facade, Far East, feeble, feel, feet, fiber, find, fingers, fire, floor, fond, forest, furnace, generation, glass, grass, grave, greed, handwoven, hard, hides, hour, hundred, hunger, impoverish, jungle, kinesthetic, kingdom, kryptonite, left, limestone, little, look, loss, majestic, meat, men, moon, more, mountains, musk, natural, nomads, olfactory, organic, permeate, pluck, poem, poetry, points, polish, prick, prize, quarry, realm, rest, rivers, sake, satiate, savannah, scent, scour, see, separate, sharp, shelter, Siberia, silicate, skin, slab, stain, stair, steel, stip, sweat, temperate, ten, tombstone, touch, trade, Travel, unique, vanity, walls, want, white, will, winding, wonder, wooden on September 1, 2009| 2 Comments »
The walls are coarse to touch, hard and steely,
it was a challenge not to see but to feel with our fingers
sharp points that will prick a skin and bleed. By then
the grave of the earth has avenged its loss. The stair
is a winding wonder of wooden realm. Forest scent
permeates like sweat staining musk to the olfactory.
Curtains we plucked from the fibers of the grass
that exist in some temperate savannah, polished
and handwoven by the nomads of Siberia.
The glass came from the silicates we scoured
from the rivers of Babylon, coal-fired in a furnace
by a hundred men impoverished with ten cents an hour.
And the floor is a polished limestone quarried
from some majestic mountains of the Far East. White,
cold slab, for our feeble feet resting on a tombstone. The chairs
are fabricated in hides separated from the meat of animals
domesticated and cultured for a trade in an African jungle.
We commercialized the organic in the will of the greedy generation
crazy for the avant garde. We are fond of collecting. Prized.
Natural. Unique. All, for the sake of a want that cannot be satiated.
And at a cost, we hunger for more as we build our little kingdoms,
looking for some definition. Until we find that there is no more left
of the skin of the earth, we have stripped of its clothing
to cover our shelters. Unless we travel to the moon
digging kryptonites to embellish facades of our own vanities.
Read Full Post »