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Nausicaa 365
A drawing is just a misunderstanding
A small thing
That reaches back for some false eye
A dog that could whistle, maybe.
Where might we bed our idiot lives?
A needle to a bloodless girl
The innocence of the bone
Drying in the morning
Student of the devil
Stretched to the limit
Broken on the rack of change
What the eye brings it also carries away
So much false hope
So much loss.
4 comments:
Piano piece...Beautiful!
damn.
So much sadness.
Your drawings are powerful, sir. I wish I had your gift. I "draw" using a child's computer software program, I admit.
Perhaps you could stop by my blog and consider drawing something worthy of my efforts to spread the truth about the existence of <a href="http://helfanheat.blogspot.com>helfans</a>?
hi I was just wondering if you wrote this yourself
Setareh, Did I write this myself? This is a question that may be answered with both a yes and a no. In these poems, I am limiting myself to the words that may be found in the particular page of James Joyce's "Ulysses." The titles and the numbers refer to the chapter of the book and the page number where the text may be found. I re-arrange the language in a deliberate way to create a piece of poetry that expresses something. Sometimes the verse seems to verge on gibberish, but this is not my intent.
Thank you for your question.
Be well.
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