Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Concrete monsters

These are the witches
that wake at dusk,
that rise six metres high.
Eyeless angels
with neon smiles -

that bleach the day,
sucking colour,
only to throw down pools
of orange glow -

that the big girls run to.
While the little girls
play hopscotch through
a night of wolves
and rapists.

Friday, November 11, 2005

the way you miss the sea

Things you expect to stop - buses, childhood, sentences, pain, warnings, falling, clocks

Things you dont - breathing, dreams, rain, reflection, love, tears, clocks

'After a while you learn that everything stops.' Bret Easton Ellis

Thursday, November 03, 2005

everytime she sneezes I believe its love

Innocent, imperative he asks why we are compelled to listen to music.

This is a valid question. This is something everyone I know considers. And as he says, we know that -

‘Music gets under one’s skin and behind one’s defences in a way that nothing else does.’
Jerry Fodor

We have all courted the virus, breathed in the sneeze. Knocked down our barricades, and invited the wolf to tea.

He suggests -

‘that it’s among the charms of music that it seems to be so utterly useless.’
Jerry Fodor

Pleasure for pleasures sake. Not a means to an end, but an end itself.

But also something more. A reminder - sometimes subtle, sometimes not so - a pinch, or a scratch that almost bleeds. We are alive - just - in a world determined to constantly remind us that we are very nearly dead.