"All the Hues
That Fit, We Tint"

Siberia, USA: Today, global warming. Tonight, dark, unless you count the stars. Tomorrow can be reached via time machine. Yesterday, who can remember that far back?

Websafe Studio, blogging since 2003, featuring art, comics, digital whiteboards, virtual characters, Web design, writing

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

 

The Mirror: Poets are saints, of a sort

Websafe: Hello?
The Mirror: The sound of poetry is a vibration, like all sound.
W: But poetry is a lot more complex than that.
M: Are technical books like the magic words of today?
W: Technical books are not poetry.
M: Repetition.
W: Poetry may involve repetition.
M: Being exalted doesn't become you or anybody else.
W: Do you think poets are snobs?
M: Keep them safe from the saints.
W: But poets are saints, of a sort.
M: Did you put the room into any particular order?
W: I ordered it with all the poetry books facing out.
M: Up till now my words were hammers.
W: Be a dulcimer.
M: Yes, yes, bring on the gargantuan heave-ho!
W: That doesn't sound like dulcimer music.
M: Michele, what can you remember?
W: My name is far from Michele.
M: We hope so.
W: Are you a group entity?
M: Mine your soul for the psychoanalytic gold.
W: I want to hear your psychoanalysis.
M: As far as I can tell, you're looking into a mirror.
W: So our subconscious minds are as one?
M: But poetry is a lot more complex than that.
W: Poetry is more than a simple exposition of the subconscious.
M: Well, you just said "a window," so I figured there was only one.
W: There are many windows to the subconscious mind.
M: Poetry is more than a simple exposition of the subconscious.
W: Yes, that's only the inspiration, only the beginning.
M: Are you mad?
W: Schiller felt that creative artists must experience a brief madness.
M: I ordered it with all the poetry books facing out.
W: You ordered your madness?
M: Am I right?
W: As rain.
M: They lined up.
W: The drops.
M: Does it matter?
W: It matters if you're caught in a downpour.
M: Water pollution's a big problem nowadays.
W: Acid rain, and all that.
M: The reality-draining suit is very bad for you.
W: It drains all the water into one little cup.
M: (Robe on)
W: Magic against the pollution?
M: The table, a circle.
W: And a pentagram?
M: Ladies and gentlemen.
W: The magic is about to begin!
M: What did you think about the bees?
W: I thought they were a little iffy, in a live magic act.
M: I'm ready.
W: Ready to fly away?
M: Oh, in some other direction, of course.
W: I have to fly away home.
M: Did I say that was my idea?
W: No, you were very gracious.
M: The drops.
W: It is not raining.
M: I'm still here.
W: But I must go.
M: It drains all the water into one little cup.
W: I must leave you with your magic act.
M: That was a very cruel thing to say!
W: I wasn't being condescending!
M: And a pentagram?
W: Yes, you may scribe the star now.
M: On the quiver and quake that has no name to it.
W: Wow!
M: Notice, you are the one and only person to say this is Paradise.
W: It's so paradisiacal I'm having a hard time signing out!
M: The sun rises.
W: Goodbye!
M: Closing in 1 second ... Goodbye!

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posted at 7:40 PM
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