Sunday, December 2, 2012

Undone

R.A.D. Stainforth's powerful read...

This keystone calls
for more than cutlery
to be undone

use your hands.

Hypnotize. Confuse
with the power of your eyes.

Search for anything tasty
that might be embedded
in the framework.

Hit bone.

Level to a gratifying heap.
Make primal sounds.
Plow supreme. Dissolve

my poorly cared for lack of will
with the force of a wrecking ball.


tk/December 2012


Object to be Destroyed by Man Ray

46 comments:

  1. You are as visceral as ever, my dear.

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  2. Keystone
    nice image
    didn't see that

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  3. This is awesome! I love your opening and this whole section:

    "Search for anything tasty
    that might be embedded
    in the framework.
    Hit bone.
    Level to a gratifying heap.
    Make primal sounds.
    Plow supreme. Dissolve"

    So yeah, all of it. :)

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  4. Loved the poetry that went along with the image ... Perfect !!!

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  5. Oh, I love this Tess... especially the ending.

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  6. "my poorly cared for lack of will
    with the force of a wrecking ball."

    My bones are still ringing with the contrast between these two lines. The need and the determination are so strong...

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  7. damn that wrecking ball! Great poetry Tess!

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  8. Excellent poem and i loved the last two lines.

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  9. Level to a gratifying heap.
    Make primal sounds.

    That's one way to do it...

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  10. So much depth as always...Concert early this evening. Will try to have a go at this when I return.

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  11. Ahh... take me as I am.... love me right to the bone...Nice! :)

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  12. my god...this is what it's like to write

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  13. Wish you hadn't mcntioned my poorly cared-for lack of will. Struck home... :-)

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  14. imaginative and original imagery i need a wrecking ball in my own life!

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  15. Lived Catfish Tales comment. Ha. Wow. Perhaps everyone needs a wreckingball like this at lest once in their life.

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    Replies
    1. Sorry for the typos. I'm not the greatest on my tiny iPhone

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    2. I consider myself very fortunate to have a wrecking ball...

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  16. Oh, for sure. What would life be like without a wrecking ball. Terrific poem.

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  17. All this is noted, Tess. Esp "confuse with the power of your eyes".

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  18. it says so much as i read again and again... brilliant!

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  19. Each time I read this a different thing brings gratification...and each week RAD imbeds his own tasty nuggets into the framework.

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  20. Object to be destroyed. I focused on the object and you focused on the destruction. I love the way everyone comes out with something different from the same image.

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  21. Hypnotic ... like the beat, beat, beat of the metronome.

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  22. Praying against the force of that wrecking ball

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  23. You sure know how to demolish a poem..you win...quite amazing!

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  24. I love the power inherent in your words and in the prompt. Well penned, Tess. Thank you for sharing your imagination. It is meant to be shared..... dear friend. =D

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  25. IT HITS ME

    For sure a hit
    is never fit.
    For sure it is
    concealing this.

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  26. Somewhat ominous, but i doubt your will would dissolve that easily !

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  27. What's a poor little metronome done to deserve a wrecking ball? Powerful poem, though.

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  28. Your amazing words have the force of a wrecking ball dear Tess! :-)

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  29. "Hypnotize... Confuse with the power of your eyes"... reminds me of the opening scenes of "Vertigo" (which I am showing tonight to a couple of young and uninitiated friends). Am on a serious James Stewart kick right now. 8-) Great poem!

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  30. "Dissolve my poorly cared for lack of will with the force of a wrecking ball." This happens to me daily! And actually it doesn't even take a wrecking ball most of the time. Sigh.

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  31. I have yet to understand a single poem. I don't get it.

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    Replies
    1. Moey, poems can take on various meanings to individual readers...hopefully something within the poem strikes you...something you can connect with and take away with you...

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  32. Fine poem with a devastatingly powerful ending.

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  33. Search for anything tasty...

    Oh, I love that stanza!

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Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)