if i was (#6)

January 16, 2009 at 6:57 pm | Posted in writing | 13 Comments
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“Ordinary objects of simple affection to which we apply these strange heiroglyphs become imbued with the energy of human emotion.” He scratches his balding head. I must remember to ask a physicist about emotion. If ghosts, the old dog looks up at him, silly old bugger, he thinks. I remember my last rabbit, disappeared down the same whole. Has he forgotten my, could be related to time not being linear in as much as the dead must be the most lonely of all our friends, no fingers to entwine, no lips with which, witch, wish, to kiss is a transitive verb, old man says the old dog to himself scratching behind his ear. Where is she? Requires a subject, has he forgotten my my goodness, he thinks, I have forgotten to remember to feed the

Sammy! Mr Beckett! Sir, it’s closing time.

13 Comments »

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  1. Brilliant. Not many could get away with this so seamlessly… but you do.

    Comment by Narnie— January 16, 2009 #

  2. Tis a brave man indeed who feels they can square up to Beckett in a piss-taking contest.

    Comment by Jim Murdoch— January 17, 2009 #

  3. I do like Waiting For Godot though. Brilliantly surreal.

    You should try your hand at play writing, actually.

    Comment by Crushed— January 17, 2009 #

  4. beautifully strange and delightfully surprising, thanks. it so appens i’ve been asked to select various favorite objects that r imbued with evocative enrgy/emotion for studies in my drawing studio class. we are going to draw them way larger than life on huge sheets of paper and make an exquisite corpse composition,
    ie a folding sort of accordion collaboration not meant to be permanent but something of a process oriented collection. mirrors and little boxes of jewels. details the teacher says are everything. i will tell everyone in the class to read this piece, thanks!

    Comment by tipota— January 17, 2009 #

  5. that was so…real…it could have been a soundbite from my own Monkey Mind (on a bad day! LOL) (and at first read, because it’s just the way I roll, I actually thought “Oh! He’s leaving out the “word of the day”…the one he’s throwing out for good!”

    hahahaha

    You’re so very talented. Thank you.

    Comment by Grace— January 17, 2009 #

  6. Lovely. Every word of it was an invitation to the next, and the last an invitation to the first, moving around in circles I enjoyed it thrice!

    Comment by Sumedh Prasad— January 18, 2009 #

  7. an alice in wonderland kind of piece for sure, down the rabbit hole whole in his mind

    Comment by art predator— January 18, 2009 #

  8. Relays the impricision of the human mind with perfect precision. I like how one thought leads to another, which doesn’t on the surface seem related, but is not random, either.

    Comment by medicatedlady— January 18, 2009 #

  9. oh sigh.. verbs and emotions with little symbols reflecting on a shiny itchy bald head.. who knew it could make sounds too… thank you for putting it into perspective today…

    Comment by pieceofpie— January 18, 2009 #

  10. Ok. I’m still working on validating the non-linearity of time and you throw in (or rather dislocate) the 5th. I feel like I’ve just been challenged to a game of 52 pick-up. Or should that be 26 pick-up? Very clever work, Paul. What shall I do with all of these letters and numbers then?

    Comment by Brad— January 18, 2009 #

  11. What a setting for a piece! At the finish I feel as if I’ve been to so many places. I just want to hold the balding head to my chest, stroke it gently and say, shhhhh, shhhh, rest now.

    Comment by poeticgrin— January 19, 2009 #

  12. Such a real game! Thoughts, words, yourself, confused eyes…all participate. Such a deep, intense, seemingly-floating narrating..You hold the tale of philosophy and pull it down to the earth, even all the way to underground…

    Comment by hayat— January 19, 2009 #

  13. hi Paul, just followed you here from your comment on Derek Barry’s ‘Woolly Days, blog.

    re Brad’s comment above:
    This commentor only knows 52 Pickup as the title of an Elmore Leonard novel.
    Mr Leonard is a God of dialogue.

    cheers
    How strange, I’m sure I thought I followed your link to find Derek’s blog and found you cos I’m on your blog roll, Ann. Help, I’m confused.

    Comment by Ann oDyne— January 27, 2009 #


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