I Turn So

Blog post # 208:
(208 = 2*2*13*2*2.)

(Not too proud of these four pictures. Sorry.)

Anomalous Sphere


Uneven Abruptness


Of Nonexistence's Equations


Malignant Drowning


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Anagrams:


Asymmetric
=
My time arcs.

--

I turn so...
=
in torus.

(A torus is a doughnut shape.)

--

Weirdo and the nag
=
We are an odd thing.

--

A nautilus wet, minced, torn
=
in salted water continuum

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Another word for 'circumference' =
"pi-ameter"...

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Two poems, written the day before yesterday and today:

The Third-Paraboloid
----------------------

The third-paraboloid does not gape.
No, it is held
By the floor and is undermined
via the saber,
Via the rod, a knife,
a bent blade once
Horizontal and then vertical
unto its thorn.

And the third-paraboloid is
of glass but not
Of shards. Nor is it of
smoothness, aside from
Its entirety. Oh,
its flatness descends and its
Roundness rises.
Although its truncation is
Seen amongst such obscuration.
Yes, the
Third-paraboloid is
not hollow or whole.
But it demeans neither
annuli nor spheres.
Ah, its flesh is cut and
its skin is unreal.
And its shadows are
finite and fluidic. Yes,
This halted cone-like thing
is so severed and
Is so voided. However,
its amplitudes are not
Of pus. No, its magnification is
angular and
Yet flat. Then it seeps of circles
and sleeps
Of its matter only partly bulging,
Only partially anomalous.

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

A Fanged Nautilus
-------------

A fanged nautilus endangers us
with its beauty. And
It holds within its coil
those teeth that cut us,
That despise us and our magic.
Ah, this spiral
Is both round and sharp.
Yet its mouth is
Somehow smooth but
abruptly so. Yes, the
Fanged nautilus penetrates
within its existence and
Nonexistence.
And it tastes such spinning,
tastes such
Carnivorousness, quite.
Ha, it licks the liquid
Of its drowning.
Although it chews the
Anger of its violence,
of its villainy. Yes,
That fanged nautilus
punctures our pain, and
It vanquishes our void.
It is curved and
Jutting; it is
strangely of its shards.
It is weird, as the
suffering it demands; it is
Weird, as the
superstition it implies and
Then grotesquely exceeds.
And then, ha, it
dichotomously rotates, protrudes,
Despite its malignant evocation.

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Leroy