Balance does not mean order. It means a chaos antidote for chaos. Examples:
Angus: "it was hard to tell exactly being that he had boobs like some porn deva 30 years in retirement.The only articulating male factor apparent was the summer beard he displayed in patches."
Rtoady/Seann McCollum:
"I carry my shopping bags straight to the second hand shop.
I shit out my food the moment I’ve gobbled it up.
Even better, the stove sits beside the rubbish bin.
I’m bailing this ocean as fast as it’s trickling in."
Khakjaan Wessington (Me): "A ripe gourd fell at my feet and detonated, launching a thousand insects upon impact. Above us, I could see the bloatwood tree teetering, its branches full of parasite-filled fruit that trembled as rockets escaped."
There's still time to play Combatwords. Dare ye join in?
http://combatwords.blogspot.com/2011/07/combatwords-july-15-2011-balance.html
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Showing posts with label Fat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fat. Show all posts
Saturday, July 16, 2011
You could have had anything and yet this is what you chose? Combatwords July 15-18
Labels:
Balance,
C-c-c-c-c-combatWords,
combatwords,
Fat,
fruit,
July 16 2011,
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Friday, June 04, 2010
The Bargain [Bonus Poem Collaboration, June 4, 2010, Art: Rutherford Toady (rtoady), Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington (KW)]
The Bargain [Bonus Poem Collaboration, June 4, 2010, Art: Rutherford Toady (rtoady), Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington (KW)]
Art: Rutherford Toady
Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington
I sleep with a basket of cans at my feet.
My monitor flickers. The teevee recites
Some facts on the tidepools not far from my street.
My pizza is finished, the darkness invites
A script from my dreams, where I live on the edge
And snap at the gleanings; the vomit the bay
Has served for my dinner. I watch. On the ledge,
Abutting the rocks—not decayed—dare I pray
For miracles? Pinching its neck with my claws?
Its fat and its alien warmth in my jaws?
More Rutherford Toady at http://carrioncall.blogspot.com
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Art: Rutherford Toady
Poetry: Khakjaan Wessington
I sleep with a basket of cans at my feet.
My monitor flickers. The teevee recites
Some facts on the tidepools not far from my street.
My pizza is finished, the darkness invites
A script from my dreams, where I live on the edge
And snap at the gleanings; the vomit the bay
Has served for my dinner. I watch. On the ledge,
Abutting the rocks—not decayed—dare I pray
For miracles? Pinching its neck with my claws?
Its fat and its alien warmth in my jaws?
More Rutherford Toady at http://carrioncall.blogspot.com
Return to Toylit
Subscribe in a reader
Labels:
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Crab,
delicious humans,
Fat,
June 4 2010,
Khakjaan Wessington,
rtoady,
Rutherford Toady,
tidepools,
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toylitpaper,
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