Tag: #SOCS
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0609: Journal of Thoughts
Stream of Consciousness (Motion) There’s a pigeon drinking from the rain gutter, dipping and lifting, dipping again, each swallow calling on the small machinery of its neck, while beneath it a bead of leaf-rusty water finds the gutter’s seamed joint and follows its old route downward; beyond the rain-poxed window a branch moves through still…
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6 October: Five Minutes of Stream of Consciousness
A Stream of Consciousness While (Listening to Radio 2 Segment: Hiking in Scotland) Butter’s singing and the frying pan is hot. (raised outside) Turn cubes of stale sourdough with a fork when golden, turn and turn again. Turn – (she’s in great shape) left and right, if left, I mean right, think … which hand do I…
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10 September: A Haibun SOCS and RDP
The Water Back then, the village pond was for washing work horses. A few years ago someone put carp in there. And the pea soup came, a peculiar kind of dark downward vegetating mush and grass that pressed against the fish. It sucked the oxygen out the water. The carp floated to the surface like…
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3 September: for RDP and SOCS (trigger warning)
Choices I.A man walks into a forest. Climbs an oak tree, ties a rope around a branch, then around his neck. And jumps. He chooses not to think about who finds him. II.A vicar lights a candle. Chooses a prayer for a boy he once gave first communion. He tells a mother her son cannot…
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5 August: #SOCS Pick a Number
05.07.23 Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Pick a Number Does anyone remember Bo Derek? She was a 10. I’m not; I am a 9. That’s my number. It’s a numerology thing, nothing to do with hokus pokus, numbers I mean, actually numbers are my potrzebie. Do you know that word “potrzebie”? My best and truest friend,…
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27 May: Saturday Stream of Consciousness
A Stream of Consciousness Behind A Poet’s Window Standing at the kitchen sink. Behind a window with blinds. I feel a bit camouflaged. A bit aloof. The view is timeless. Nothing much changes around here, except that the neighbour’s boxwood plant is dying. It’s going bald like Stanley Tucci. I wouldn’t mind Tucci cooking a…
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21 May: SOCS – A Cadralor Poem
To Gordes, France: A Cadralor Poem I.Listen, and you’ll hear the chiselled skinof buildings. Tight as a drum. Pick upa stick, and beat out a long ago rhythm. II.Listen to moonlight, it’s silver to dream.Meadows of sky stirred by a stick. Thoseold things, those wild things on the move. III.Listen to the slow lines of…
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12 March: Rough Sleeping Since
Sleeping Rough Ever Since It was a Saturday, and Adam was having one of those stream of consciousness thingies. Like a dream, but not. He’d returned to paradise. Had a small blot hole right on the beach. Maybe a little caravan, or an RV in need of cheap repair, like in those advertisements that fill…
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5 March: Stream of Consciousness Saturday
Captain Ahab It’s getting cold, and it’s raining again, and the one-legged pigeon is stood like a moody hiss on the gutter, staring in the frosty window at me as I crunch on toasted raisin bread. This bread’s been in the freezer for about a year, about the same time as when I named that…
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25 February: #SOCS The Bus Stop
Give That Girl A Prize … several people already waiting for the 11:10 bus into town. A husband and wife with two gaunt dogs on leads; several kids – why aren’t they in school, and two tall men tilting on their walking sticks. I must try to recreate those two using AI art. A teenage…
It's Still Life 