scattered sketches
slips and pieces
partial thoughts
and it ceases
images and thoughts
assault his network
neural connections
time and happiness
mixed metaphors
of fog and snow
and some ice
words and emotions
run rampant through
his mind or what's
left of it - right of
it - above and
or below it
stutters and stammers
trying to get it out - let
it out - shout about
the rings around
certain planets
devoid of mass
steppes or steps
careful slips
the tongue
the feet
stumbling
concrete
or between
the sheets
essential and eternal
the elements dance and mix
a swirl of matter seasoned with
linear time and it expands outward
and inward at the same time as in one
small corner or pocket of the universe
on a blue green planet in the perfect
spot, the most pleasant distance
from the sun - from Sol - then
it breaks down
magnetic barriers broken asunder
the pillage and plunder that awakens
thunder in the mind echoing off of hills
and ridges of cells and receptors that
spill this or that chemical in this or that
direction and add in a little burst of
electricity
kites and fields
memories blend
bleed together
swipes and swerves
the poem leaves the road
colors outside the lines and
remains hidden in a bottle
left under the bridge by
a homeless man who
was really from an-
other planet per-
haps he hops
from here to
there, and
stares at
suns so
unlike
his
own.
- by kpaul.mallasch
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I really like the word play
I really like the word play of the title - the poem is all about the scatter, but there's nothing scattered about the poem. One unintentional(?) thing that I found interesting: "the stuff of / which we're made / from" - the grammatical structure of that phrase (i.e. using "of which") is typically used to avoid a preposition (e.g. "from") as its final word.
i was going for a play /
i was going for a play / transition...
we're made
from ... essential and eternal
elements
so yeah, i know not to do it but did it anyway. ;)
i didn't know that about of which tho. hmm. i dunno.
scattered. poetic doodlings.
i wanna PUBLISH this year. beware world.
and thanks.
and thanks.
i do remember mentally
i do remember mentally wondering if i should take the from out - it didn't sound right - but then it led to the next stanza or kinda fit...
also i think i made up mons
also i think i made up mons verus. yup. google agrees. heh.
the more i think about it
the more i think about it tho maybe that entire stanza should be taken out.
mons varus
and here I assumed "mons verus" was an obscure thinking gland. I think you're correct - you could probably drop that entire stanza and, with minimal adjustment, the poem would read just as smoothly. I'd take the key concepts and words though and see if their dust couldn't be subtly scattered elsewhere in the poem.
CUT: sketching and
CUT:
sketching and scratching
the surface erupts -
mons verus of the
mind - made up
names to shape
the place the
memories reside
and inside we hide
as the sun melts and
pelts the earth with
neutrinos and other
solar matter - star
dust - the stuff of
which we're made
from