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Things best forgotten

Fri, 22 Oct 2010 16:31:00 -0400

Once upon a time, my history was stolen —

and filed away for good.

I guess I was complicit, telling stories of the

Tiny childlike pains they wanted to fill their story books.

There was too much, too many little solemn hurts,

Too many girlish loves and mirror-kisses, too many

Accidents in car backseats and toilet bowls and euphoric outbursts —

They broke me.

Now all I can remember is running up and down the stairs

for ever

Waiting for the verdict: was I sick or was I well?

They weren’t going to take me away but it was too dangerous

To let me keep believing, so they wiped my memories away.

In their place a precious, heavy pill, and dimness.

Deliminate

Fri, 22 Oct 2010 16:29:51 -0400

All neurons go,

But soft responses garner no repose.

What’s a stimulus to do? Keep pandering,

Reiterating, tittering, and changing the rules of the game.

Not too long ago, it took

Some twenty small sensations to garner one repsonse. Then ten.

The body learns, the brain teaches, fear.

The stuff of dreams, of nightmares, of casual thoughts —

That’s evolution. That’s change we can believe in,

If not quite. If only when, survey says —

Eliminate all doubts from your mind, those lines form a dog.

Demagnetized

Fri, 22 Oct 2010 16:29:16 -0400

Facts dominate the landscape today.

Can’t say when it started, but it’s plain

And hard to argue with projections, rock, sky. Capped

With snow and coldness, they are liable

To blow at any minute. Not live, but when is a

volcano ever not?

Obsequious, black and precious, the cold stone

Harbours hidden power: the strongest magnet you

Have ever seen. Pulling your compass, inexplicably,

Away from the good, true North. Somewhere Northeast,

They say, but really, there’s only one solution.

It’s been demagnetized.

Complete

Fri, 22 Oct 2010 16:28:37 -0400

Posting some old poems here as part of a new plan to write something every day. Yes, every day. We’ll see if that’s actually possible.

These hills are filled with mines

And they are majestic, mine, well,

Soon they will be mine and not the bank’s.

And their covering of trees

isn’t just about the breeze, it’s

Also rife with fruit and nut and meat.

So many reservoirs of ice are much

more than being nice, they touch

Upon a need that’s pressing, flowing clear.

For the economy is such that there’s

Never quite enough, nowhere’s

Certainly not more than what we’ve found here.

And we’ll fish on wine and niceties

And we’ll fast on streams below the trees

We’ll supine and whine and save us please

From these completely new complexities

That break out when you’re not starving.

Neven Mrgan's tumbl: I liked the old Facebook login better

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:35:07 -0500

Neven Mrgan's tumbl: I liked the old Facebook login better:

Please read marco’s post on a mindblowing web artifact:
…
It took me a minute to grok this, since I typically walk around with the conviction that people aren’t THAT naive, but…

What’s apparently happening here is, Facebook users are googling for “facebook login” (because how else are you…

This song is impossibly catchy. I listen to it multiple times...

Tue, 19 Jan 2010 22:45:59 -0500

This song is impossibly catchy. I listen to it multiple times every time I jog (though I doubt I’ll be jogging again for a while … ).