Some times It’ s hard to keep thing s straight. Wha t’s the differ ence between real ity and sub conscious ness. Some times, I can not tell.
Tag Archives: The Art of Language
“On the Writing Process”
(Continuation of “On Writing in Iran”) One English teacher told me that writing was a process and everyone’s process was different. I laughed. A process? Ha! It’s more like a Pollack. Throw it on the ground and get mad. Maybe get a little drunk. Fling some ideas onto it and see what splatters, what oozes,Continue reading ““On the Writing Process””
“On Writing in Iran”
(Continuation of “On Writing”) The callus had formed a long time ago having never had the opportunity to heal. The pressure of every pen and pencil. The physical presence of every written assignment embedded into a small hard mound on my middle finger. In Iran, my teacher believed that the best way to learn aContinue reading ““On Writing in Iran””
In order to get a song out of one’s head, an individual must listen to the song in its entirety. Are the ones we love a beautiful looped verse? Do you have to live with them for a life time before you can get them out of your head?
Ask the river, illuminate the soliloquy. Saturate the cathedral with saffron and condemn the bishop, he’s a commanding kibitzer. Orchestrate the machine while dancing with shopping carts as lace transcends fire with shear mastication. A pierced eye vanishes in the jungle questing for adventure. Such vivid, Striking words.
Please Ignore Everything You Have Read Thus Far
My pen, that bastard, turned on me again. Promising prose and poetry but producing cacophonous chaos. It frolics freely as I sit shackled in tumultuous uncertainty.
Ehet miphet ock blas peyet Klee muh oof zahx byening
そのような悲哀 私はおなら ああ甘い救済
xoudaya man, koja raftee, pawyeen, ya balla.
Dreams of the Gods
What if we were the dreams of gods? Entities of impossibilities restricted to a realm of beings where only the possible is a possibility and the improbable impossible.