|kinhin [ 経行 ] for the kindred
risked in the attempt
company in roaming
the woods --
ahead by ten,
lagging by the same,
between edges leading
to a common fixation born
of the slightest
hand gesture --
conjectures: the storm,
uncertainty pillowed by the grass
mauled by the weight of stares,
a bit unaware, if at all;
walked the concrete mile for a while
relentless with a solid resolve to be
and being in the moment,
know the difference
of the subtleties
in the in-betweens
behind that evening veil.
written may 22, 2009
aka kindergarten blues
9 Jul 09
Rated 10 (6.7) by 1 users.
Inactive (2): 1, 9, 10
(define the words in this poem)
(204 more poems by this author)
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an autobigraphica I see ewe in this between the tree spirits and the dead concrete roads there is sensitive ewe going we we we all the way home -- yet courage is retained that you retrain your word-weird-construed way into a hand gesture of assimilations, yet always aware of the in-betweens behind the evening veil -- ahead by ten lagging by the same, is the name of the darwinian game -- write on Fractalisciousness
thanks verily, Alc.
you got the metaphysical side of this;
there are two other voices interwoven
which you also glimpsed.
I really enjoy reading these types of poems--- if they're written well...and this one delivers on many levels. I compare this to an album that you hear for the first time and you know it's good but it's hard to take it all in on the initial listen...so I'm sure I'll revisit this one many more times and like it more with each read...
~ Nice write ~
27 is the magikk number
but that's beside the point.
thanks for reading, JKWEb.
looking forward to your return.
ok, so why the 10 w/o the comment?
jeez, you're a geezer, arnorld.
so nobody wants to walk with me?
oh c'mon now,
let's walk together
can you tell me what i should do with
this sh*t aside from ditch it? i think it's
problematic. what do you think?
not good writing. the nursery rhythmic passage syncopation destroys this before it begins.
you have an ability greater than your writing here. lazy.
if you notice, i've been trying to write within
a restrictive structure of 27 lines -- as with
the other pieces you've just commented on --
and there are numerous real events depicted
here which, via a fractured approach, i would
not have been able to encapsulate. also, i
adjusted the language keeping in mind that the
intended reader is neither well-versed nor
-exposed to other styles.
i know what you mean by lazy though, and i felt
quite the same way when i wrote it but it was a
totally different experience i had to go through.
thanks for the feedback.
sorry, there's actually only one other 27-liner
you've commented on so far.
just wanted to correct my statement.
thank you for the insight into the structural limitations. it's a very good practice, and exercise.
well, kinhin is a good exercise.
i can feel this one in my gut, the sudden transition between swaying grass to translucent veil. From childhood exploration to lip service to the man, we all got the blues if that's the case
ewe ream hind
new dull man
thanks for reading this post.
i actually lied on the grass one starry night
waiting for kleopatra to come out. it rained
after a few hours, though, and i was lucky
enough to be some place else.
gooed stuff err
stay fur gooed.
reposted for further comments.
bumps are annoying
i've always liked your word manipulations. especially when you embed them in profound wisdom, as you did with lines 23 through 27.
well, as you did with the whole poem, now that i think about it.
listen, thanks a lot for dropping by.
actual events have great leverage
on my posts. glad this appealed to
bumpeetee day, everee-one.
I remember this poem-
it was in my favorites and mysteriously disappeared..
and now it's back again
sorry you had to refave this after the
had a little too much time in my hands
awhile ago, hence the short bumpeetee
thanks for stopping
for winter Solstice's 'kareful perusal',
though the phrase kinda keeps on
kanting itself redundantly, hehehe.
Thank you for that, I would of never found it in your mass of poetry, not that that is a bad thing, the mass that is my own laziness is a flaw.
It made me feel like I was walking in the woods with my brother smoking weed and being 16 again. And an poem that conjures up a feelng/image of your own life, too me gets it, and is good.
that's very nice of you to say.
interesting how readers are bound to
interpret what they read according to
their own personal experiences which
seem to fit the word-tokens in the poem.
i'm learning a lot from a person by just
reading his comments on something i
thanks for this opportunity and for giving
my poem your precious time, Solstice.
I agree it's wonderful to read how people inturpret your poems.
and you don't have to thank me.
well, comments are helpful in that it gives the author
an idea of how his writing works/looks.
so, thanks again.