Morning Commute

A collection of words, working through ideas of loss and the real beyond the senses, all works in progress as thoughts rather than technical acuity but a representation of present moods 2011. The idea of a mood represented as unexplainable nature makes framing it within structures a block to thought so I am trying to pour out words as feelings not elements or structural tags that will ultimately harm the thought. Thoughts are not sentences or structures they are neurons firing at light speed, I want to somehow find a way of expressing that whilst also communicating a sense of something, which can only be done through a common agreement of narrative structure traditionally. I want to blur the boundary between thoughts and narrative threads and walk the finest line between making universal sense whilst also conveying the uniqueness of each individual thought. I come with my memories and experience of the world which being human will have a shared fabric but I want my words to be the finest of threads. This may not be within my power but I would seek to write only this way, for other ways seem to lose their essence once recognisable narrative dominates how we write down our internal moods and feelings.

Morning Commute

A designated point

of stopping or starting.

Pulls up, first. D-i-s-e-m-b-ark

and then in, in, in...

THAT constant flowing on,

pouring like sweat,

over, your own tunnel broken

twist of self reflection.

Stare out! Chien Andalou

Slits this surreal indifferent land.

Hear also the death of life

unclothed. LOUD, raw,

palette knife sense

scraping the lie, green.