Tag: words

Ambedo

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ambedo
n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—briefly soaking in the experience of being alive, an act that is done purely for its own sake.

…let your mind wander and enjoy the ride.
To find those moments when everything falls quiet
and the words lose their meaning.
that all mixes together
until you can’t tell the difference between the ordinary and the epic.
And you stop waiting around for some other meaning to arrive.
you notice how delicate and fleeting it all seems…

Notes:

Words

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sleep-dream-art
Looming and phosphorescent against the dark,
Words, always words.

— Charles Wright

Credits:

  • Image: Sleepless by Vanessa @ ésotérique
  • Poem: metaphorformetaphor from Charles Wright’s opening lines to opening lines to “Cryopexy,” The Other Side of the River (Vintage Books, 1984)

 

I don’t like Neighbor.

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black and white, portrait

I was rattled.
My Fingers are on the keyboard.

“N-e-i-h-b-o-r”
Then…
“N-i-e-h-b-o-r”
Autocorrect is humming in the background but finding nothing.
Where the H*ll are you?
Red dots underscore the word and shout: “WRONG“!
I push back from my desk. I stop. I inhale.

You used to be an Automaton. Letters used to spill out, from head to fingers to screen. Letters all beautifully lined up in single file, in correct order.  It’s ok. You’re just tired. You didn’t get much sleep. You’re alright. It will be ok.  

I go at it again.
“N-i-e-b-o-r”
Red dots return.
No sign of Autocorrect.
My pulse quickens.
The cursor flashes at the end of the Word. Bing. Bing. Bing. Bing. Bing.
Red dots underscore word. Red dots. Blood platelets. Stop the bleeding.

Continue reading “I don’t like Neighbor.” →

My escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant

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reading-book-alone

Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author’s words reverberating in your head.

― Paul Auster, The Brooklyn Follies ( Picador, 2006)

Credits: Image – youreyesblazeout. Quote: Journey of Words

 

It trembles, liquid to the mind, then falls

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water-drop-gif

Sometimes you linger days
upon a word,
a single, uncontaminated drop
of sound; for days

it trembles, liquid to the mind,
then falls:
mere denotation
dimming the undertow of language.

– John Burnside, from “Like me, you sometimes waken” 

Notes: