Whereisthepoetry - Where Is The Poetry?

exposed by accident III

a friend well met

relics of a tide

"and the light slow drizzle outside, not to mention another ruin of all accords, events happening in their order

a certain regularity, which leads you to believe fancifully, in coincidences

but which situate you at the apex of every trajectory, composed irresolutely by you, yet, only dimly recalled as consciously made by you

calculated, this flickering of light in a specific metre of four four two the lone last light post on the street"

(foolishly taken from: Ossuary VI by Dionne Brand)

torrid planes of abandonment or: the dead are haunting me

Today is one of these days on which we get reminded of the unfathomable beasts that man unlocked through modern thought and industrialisation. But, being German, I shouldn't point fingers... When I was in Weimar I also visited what's been left as memorial after the Buchenwald concentration camp. Unspeakable horrors emanate from that place, still to this day. I for one urge each and every one of you to find it in you to do your part in keeping anything even remotely like this from ever being able to spawn again.