Friday, February 4, 2011

70/140 bpm


turn the lights down,
switch them off;
crank the bass up,
and shed the world.
what we need isn’t here
because it hides in the dark;
there is no-thing to fear
so quell your rapid beat
and let yourself
come apart.

(day twelve)

It’s official. I’m addicted to dubstep. Thank you to my best friend Derek for introducing me to the healthiest drug in universe. I have my earbuds in, and I’m writing about two words per minute. You stop thinking. You start feeling. One hundred percent organic; side effects: you may forget to breathe.

Do I ever suck at this blogging thing. {practice makes perfect?}

Viens avec moi.

2 comments:

  1. I like the feel and imagery of this poem. I used to use phantoms and shadows to portray the deep secrets, impulses, etc., that are present in my own subconscious but perhaps not in others'. Or something like that.

    I concur with having scuba diving on your list. It's a great hobby, and it's sorta zen-like underwater once you stop fiddling with your instruments and equipment and just look around. How about learning a martial art? That's what I'm working on now, at age 48.

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  2. Thanks, Randy. I kind of wish I was writing longer pieces- the short ones make me feel inadequate.

    And I can't wait to go scuba diving. As far as the martial art, it's a great suggestion; I'll throw it on there. What is your art of choice?

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