Friday, June 17, 2011

Nothing Spectacular

Blog post # 200:
(200 = 2*5*2*5*2.)

Four not very fantastic pictures:

Thorns Foregone

Paradox Wilted

Elsewhere Transected

Unto Eclipses Undefined


Well, this is my 200th post to this blog. Woopie. This particular post is really unspectacular. And that is just as well, since almost no one reads my blog anyway.

Plus, I'm depressed about so many things lately, I have forgotten what exactly I am depressed about. Something new to be depressed about every day, lots of new things every day.


But I still have an anagram for you all:

A circle passes...
as eclipses arc.


Here are two shitty poems, each just barely worth putting in the blog.
(Written yesterday and today.)

Perpendicular Fluids

Perpendicular fluids flow
as their antithesis;
They flow and float
against their dimensions, and
They become their impediment
otherwise inertial.
Yes, the liquids are derived
via orthogonalities,
And they are formed somewhat
of both tangents and silt.
They drown each droplet
within them, and yet
Still they are spited;
still they are conjoined.
And such wilting water
is transformative in
Its evaporation, in its
solidity surely viscous.

This circularity curves
into its juxtaposition
With its mental failure, ha.
But it does curl
And course, and it is
strung unto that
Mesh, unto that weave
of wetness and its
Amorphousness. Ah,
the fluids flow perpendicularly,
And yet they are real,
yet they are nonexistent
And massive and wrung
from truth's idiocy.

Yes, these fluids converge and
regard their paradoxes.
And their substance is
misaligned. It is askew
But angularly so
about this imbalance, about
That undefined rain of
transparent possibility,
Possibility now conjured,
now concurrent.


Of Such A Wedge Transected

Only 1/8 the sphere is made
from glass; otherwise
It is of air and nonexistence.
And this 1/8 is
A chunk curved about one face
and flat elsewhere
Aside from its corners
and edges thus. It is quite
Obvious and transparently so.
But it does not form
The cone, although
it does form the pyramid.

Through its curved side,
a puncture descends.
And then it penetrates
unto the underside, yes.
For, a droplet of watery ooze
drips from beneath
And falls but does not detach.
The droplet is hewn
from 1/8 the sphere, becoming
That glass, becoming
that dream of thoughts,
Yet becoming that
forgotten tongue of such a notch,
Of such a wedge transected.




Anonymous said...


You're pushing the language to Joycean levels.

TracyRobin said...

AT, what's wrong? Why so depressed? First pic (sorry, hehe) looks like a pic of a bug my daughter sent me... it's eating her lilies and she is not happy. I saw that and laughed. I always enjoy your art and I am a people <<< who reads your blog... chin up!

Amorphous Trapezoid said...

Anonymous: Did you mean "spited"? I don't have "spitted" anywhere in my blog. :/
Tracy: Thanks, as always.

ima girl said...

Ok the pics are why I come here,hope that counts because I suk at the other things you post

BTW these are the best pics I have seen you post so far :)

#1 and #3 are my favorites

Psycho Babbling Basher said...

First off, congratulations!
I have no idea why you find this post to be not spectacular.
Maybe I'm a lesser Gentile, but your posts are nothing but Spectacular!
Or maybe I'm just a fan, but nonetheless, it's great!

Anonymous said...

"Spited" it is; sorry about that.

Amorphous Trapezoid said...

Thanks for the comments, everybody!

That Guy said...

200. That is a lot. Congratulations. I normally arrive for the anagrams.