RE: bad poetry? No just vandalised.

I'll hold the beach landing up a little to allow for my enemy a time to
comprehend what is happening to him.

The stopping, that madness and death that shut his mouth in space and time,
and finally out of space and time. He sought to be a winged free spirit and
well, I have scanned the skys and listened for reports of him flapping
about, to no effect. Yet this angst this inevitable chasm that existence
reminds its acolytes of, every day, is usually resisted by those who give it
all their thought with acts of creation as some sort of affront to the
approaching precipice. It is your faith in it all that is a hallmark of
your worship. Now, concerning evidence, you have chosen and closed the
door, you stand before the law but demure in entering less evidence is
amassed in a direction you are not up to facing, staving off the abyss for a
time, but like Kafka's patient example it arrives inevitably. So, again,
the theatre goes on, consisting of 3 acts of desperation (an unknowing, a
knowing, a denial(evil for joy, good for bad etc), how absurd, it must be;
every thing else is excluded. All this sticky wallowing from one who fears
flying pigs; ironic absurdity.
Daniel (Chiming with or without wind)
PS Scottie, I have known and do know joy, joy exceeding all stickyness
sublime or otherwise, I hope your toes are curling as well they should.
 

And Daniel chimes in and asks:

"you mean evidence without political motives, without interpretation,
without power with no desire about it?"

Nope. I don't.

The he writes:

"The stopping is placed on an altar and worshipped, with offerings of
art to keep it away. "

And, just that quickly, I again have no clue what he's talking about.
Forget questions of truth, or divinity, or politics even -- let's just
start with a little coherence, shall we?

All the best,

--John

  
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Received on Sun Jul 13 23:33:23 2003