hank mobley on the stereo.
cheap-ass wine in the glass.
a poem in my head.
a nice cushion under my....
nevermind.
so, last night i met one of those smart people.
one of those college graduates who actually knows how two spell.
and she was talking all about llambic pentameter and what defines a sonnett and other such intellectual things.
and i, ragged, with my over sized pants and sandals, my now curly hair all tangly and shaggy, i began to feel very dumb and not much like a poet at all.
and at the same time i began thinking about my roomate josh, and how something seemed to be missing from his photography.
and for a brief moment i thought intensely about the redhead sitting accross the room from me.
then the revelation resulting from the culmination of all my thoughts came into clarity.
then quickly transcended into the spiritual.
this is what i thought:
i began thinking that talking to that redhead wouldnt make a whole lot of sense on account that attraction is all chemical and sensory, or if you are a mystic, all soul and chemistry.
thus attraction comes to us naturally speechless and naked, it is us who, feeling ashamed, dress it up with words and the games that we have been conditioned to play.
its true. think about it. you can have the exact same conversation with two different people, but leave one conversation feeling entirely in love, the other utterly pissed off.
its our attraction that make people seem interesting.
then i began to wonder about the soul, and what language it speaks.
its not english, i'll tell you that.
no man, (i added the "man" because it gives this entry a coffee shop type of feel) the soul speaks the language of emotions.
what are words anyways, but a means for us to communicate what it is that we are feeling.
this, i think, is how God speaks to us.
through emotion and sentiment and the inner workings of the brain.
we interpret it as we see fit.
thats when i looked back at that smart chick, and thought, man, poetry isnt about techinque or style.
just like photography isnt about backdrops and lighting.
just like being in love isnt about hugging and kissing.
its all about the soul's search for expression.
art is the soul's attempt to speak in a way that we can understand.
can you dig that man?
okay, i am going to shut up now.
7:43 p.m. - 2004-08-07
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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