Infinitely Dimensional Delirium
Melt
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Why does tea taste good cold, and tea tastes good hot, but when it is in the middle at room-temperature, then it tastes terrible?
Hmmmmm?
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Idea for country song:
I'm not a hard-working man.
I take a break whenever I can.
I'm in LOW-GEAR.
No, I'm too lazy to get a job.
I'm such a worthless slob.
I keep going nowhere fast.
This relaxation is meant to last.
I'm in LOW-GEAR.
Yeah, LOW-GEAR [in really deep voice]
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Commercial for anti-social-phobia medicine:
Egg, jackhammer sounds, cracks form in egg, chicken steps out of egg with jackhammer in its wing.
Narrator: "Sometimes you just need a little help coming out of your shell".
[Arrggg. Sorry. I hate Big Pharma. Why would I give them an idea for an ad?]
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A word puzzle. Take a certain 4-letter word. It is the first 4 letters of a 5-letter word. Take a 3-letter word that is a synonym of the 5-letter word. Saying the 4-letter word and then the 3 letter word fast in succession PHONETICALLY gives a 5-letter word that does NOT describe anyone who reads my blog. What are these words?
The 4-letter word, the first 5-letter word, and the 3-letter word all have one syllable each. The final 5-letter word has 2 syllables.
Answer in comments to this blog post.
Hint: The first letter of the 4-letter word is the 9th letter of the title of this blog-post.
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Finally, a poem. (NO! LEROY, NO!)
I wrote this yesterday.
The Puncturing Of Dreams
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All, it is punctured,
soiling its anatomy, soiling
Its thoughts with our delirium.
I taste such
Tongues, yes, as they pierce
the very spaces implied
By everything and its
infinite dimensions soothed.
I speak of knives and speak
of flatness. Thus,
All is cleaved, and we are
severed into
These bounded inaccuracies
once human, once
Artificial. Oh,
the swirling truths of our
Presumed existences,
they puncture through
Nothingness and nothing.
Yes, they cut the
Edifices of our psychoses,
cut these introspective
Brains within, within
each dream. Ah, subdued
Are those alphabets
enumerated but still
Un-alphabetical.
And I finally wake to
Jut my imagination
through itself. Yes, I
Do puncture my very will
with whispers,
With screams
stubbornly initiated.
--
[As you must have noticed, this poem and the last poem I posted I have divided each line up into two lines so that the carriage-returns work better. Compare with my older poems I posted to this blog, where line-breaks were uncontrolled by me because the lines were too long.]
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Leroy
3 comments:
The words are: nigh, night, eve, and naive.
The poem made me think of jelly brains leaking out of a rubber bag. Leroy! It's a terrible way to make someone think. LOL Loved the two latest bits of art. Beautiful flow in both of them, although the first one reminded me of fractured prisms.
I only like hot tea, cold tea blaaaah! I have no clue on the words but my head hurts trying. I like Melt best today, the other is too busy for me. I am going to make a cup of (hot) tea now!
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