Things That Fly

Wandering beneath the sky,
pale as milk,
the chill of your hand
grazing my cheek,
I thought I heard you laughing.

The kind of walk
I felt like we'd had
a thousand times
before I knew your name.

You spoke of hot air balloons
and bees
and other things that fly
"...in spite of themselves."
I remember that line best.

That fascinated smile,
uncertain and curious,
as if in awe of how strange
a thing your own mind was.

I fell in love on a rooftop -
dizzy with attention,
silly with booze,
you delivered a friend
but there was no one there
but you.

We met in the cold
but I never wanted for layers
distracted from my senses
by your kind eyes
and marvel.

I wonder if any of it was real.
Were you that enamored with the world
that your distractions carried you away
lost at sea, tumultuous love.
I'd lost you as
soon as I went under.

Electric Lust

Between us there are only tracks.
A jealous current grumbles
Because no man-made thing
Could ever carry what courses
Through this imagined 
moment with you.

Rebel

This is another piece that uses proximity and space to present meaning — read it as you will, but it is difficult not to allow the two columns to interact with each other. In writing it, I considered the interaction between the paragraphs on a horizontal relation, not just a vertical one. This one needs some help with the formatting, but this will do for now.

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White Square/Black Square

I cannot remember the term used to describe this sort of writing, but general, we were asked to write about two squares. A black square, and a white square. Two objects made purely out of lines — the specifics were up to us. I won’t remember now how I started to imagine these squares, but looking back on them, they still have meaning to me.

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Postmodernism (An Exercise)

This was one of the first pieces that I wrote for a Postmodernist poetry class in college, and if it makes little sense to you — no, you aren’t crazy. I believe it was more of an exercise, and a way of explaining the idea behind Postmodernism; the idea that meaning can be born from an association of words as  words, and the use of space, or empty space. The idea that sounds can have meaning, too — that the words themselves offer more than just the restricting meaning prescribed in them by society. I liked that idea, and though this is admittedly not very meaningful on its own, I like to remember that this is how I expressed the idea of detaching from the prescribed meaning of writing.

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