five-thirteen a.m. (insomnia)

I know you can read my poems
I let you, so it's OK
I try not to censor myself because you can read my poems
(I know you can, I don't know if you do)
I try to keep them real,
Expressions of me, my thoughts,
My varied, sometimes contradictory truths
That change as often as I do,
Never staying quite the same for too long
But always recognizable as each other
(Me and my truths, we are one and the same.
Or at least we were, at some point)
I try not to censor myself
(It's a bit stupid, I don't even know if you'll read this)
But there's one poem I kept for myself
(Just one, I'm not too greedy)
I wrote it when I last left you.
It's not depressing, soppy or too strong,
Just facts in poem form.
I know it won't stay mine for long.
I'll put it where you can see it soon enough.
But for now... It's staying mine.

16th Nov '09 (5:13am)

Dada Poetry and Fun with Wikipedia's Random Article!

Chanelling Tristan Tzara and his Dadaist poetry magic, I decided to write my own few Dada poems using the 'random article feature' on wikipedia. I'd click on random article and use that article as inspiration to write one line on a piece of paper... which I would then fold up and put in a scarf. Once I had 12, I pulled them out of the scarf at random and came up with the first poem. After I recorded it, I wrote another 12 and mixed them in with the first 12 (now 24), but pulled out only 12, recorded them, and wrote another 12. I mixed the 36 together but pulled out only 12 and wrote the third poem. A triumph of randomness? Perhaps.

DADA POEM I
It’s the act of tearing an object
Maybe I’ll find some money on St Teresa’s Day
Until I find you again –
An outdated, faded fleur-de-lis, barely visible above the doorway
Flies out to one of Cassiopeia’s stars
Why do I want to see you again?
A small village, in a small county, in a big forest
Limbs all akimbo
Body in limbo
The river winds its way through Vorarlberg
Enough to let me fly far, far away
Almost over!
Angels for Oliver!
Crystalline Mountains and freezing rain!

DADA POEM II
A small village, in a small country, in a big forest
Icelandic patronymics in Hollywood Viking films
I bought a bunch of crossed products
Until I find you again
Small villages, cabins covered in ice
Crystalline mountains and freezing rain
Stars swing in the skies: I’m dizzy now
Limbs all akimbo
Body in limbo
Nepalese villages, mountains and rice
Maybe I’ll find some money on St Teresa’s Day
It’s the act of tearing an object
Out of one of Cassiopeia’s stars

DADA POEM III
You used to want to buy a boat and sail down to Sicily
There’s an Indian butterfly in my doorway
I wouldn’t die for your sins
A flower sits on my window sill, turned away from the train
The flame burns longer than you think
What happened to that?
Stars swing in the skies, I’m dizzy now
It was a perfect day,
The creek flows 5 miles south
Cable cars between table tops
Third time lucky
You’re pushing me.