Words, or Art, or What?
Such canvas collects gestures, of fingers fusing text to image, and image to text
We read this in ways we can't imagine, turning heads for eyeing swoops, dots and staggered lines
as undetermined possibilities that not even the artist knows for sure whether
Words, or Art, or What
— for #ds106 about Asemic Writing https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asemic_writing
Begin at the edges and fold your way in, finding center (along dotted line) before folding the long way out (along creased line) so that wings and beaks and message collide at corners' ending
for #ds106
Chewing on words
a poem's rough edges cuts the tongue, barbed irony abounds, jagged with reminders to go slow or pay the price
the script informs how one must speak the words dense, disturbed, distant, a mixed emotional concoction of removal
this prose tastes abandoned, a story from one age eaten more than morsel, if one cuts the edges off to find the center often hidden
Swallowing these lines
for #ds106 Daily Create
I am shadow in screen-light; the quiet of morning still sleeping, pausing to get each word right, the table beneath keeping us balanced- the computer, the coffee, the poem, and I
for #ds106
All postmodern birds are nothing more than
wings of words feathers of letters talons of tales beaks of books
written and read, but rarely seen
for #ds106
So it sits, all winter: The engine, cold; its ignition switch, dangling by a wire; a small fire, barely remembered from November; when nights, cold, meant grass didn’t grow; Yet still, it waited in silence, ready to break the world with noise
It’s nearly impossible to know the movement of Earth, while standing in the center, pondering its invisible pull; Perhaps we see it most clearly in pencil marks of poets, gliding words in motion, on paper - a waterfall tumbling into nothingness
Breaking the frame becomes you — the slight angle in which your eyes remember the point of view
Breaking the frame releases, too — the quiet pause in which your mind remembers the point of you
for #ds106
So much of us remains forever hidden - the super of man the wonder of woman - until the time we find we are needed, the moments when we pull from inside something to believe in
for #dS106
fire hand slowly burns this fire land into ashes
we are reborn again in the dust of what has gone before
Here, hold my fingers grasp my fire hand tell your story rebuild the world once again
for #ds106