Jan 15th 2019

Nothing much has happened in my life. This day to day routine is trying and troublesome. I think of content to write but nothing much emerges.
I had a strange dream and in it I was going through a tunnel. I looked up at the dream dictionary and found the meaning as, going through a tunnel means solving a problem and beginning a new phase of life. I am excited at the prospects that the dream has to offer.

I wonder where life is taking me to. I dream of visiting enchanted islands like Bali, the Philippines where my significant other lives. I dream of smoking clove cigarettes and having Indonesian grilled fish and duck roast and rice with Sambal.

I nourish writing as a poetic dream. I draw writing with my pen and brush against the canvas of the paper. Form is the evolution of the ego into an aesthetic symbolism of an idealism. Content is what the pen plants as a seed and writing is an evolution of a fruit. Style of writing is a fictional utopia. Meaning is the recognition of the allegory in aesthetic semblances. I carve beautiful sculptures with my pen. Writing is the joyful exertion of freedom. The joy of writing is the liberation of the ego, the joyssance of the body. The text is the manna of celebration. Nietzsche the philosopher said: ‘a good writer is a one who is ashamed of the self’. We write in words about what is a bodily negation. Writing bears the angst of the self. Writing is the art of being a stoic epicurean and a philosophical Socrates. To write as Derrida has said: ‘is to have the passion of origin’.

Dusk

The sky crimson
Lay with strewn
Flowers ….
Birds float
To their homes…
The sky,
A passionate
Music ….
The wind
Hums a
Poem of
Noble
Incantations….
I am soaking
Myself
Into a dream
Of beauty ……

Assorted Drabble

Tender Coconut
My lips and teeth sank into the tender flesh…the outer covering was hairy and rough—the inner covering was smooth as flesh; its taste was salty and sweet….I drank into the rich concoction….All the way I thought it was just juicy and sweet like hers.

Light
Thousands of pilgrims wait patiently to view the light (a so called divine light) purported to come from over the hills. For the government who got money from the pilgrims it was a fix-up-job. They are adept in burning tires and they are skilled in creating the illusion of creating the light for the hoi polloi.

Cross
I watched the illuminated cross all lit up for the church festival. I go back to history were the cross was victimized—stripped, naked and beaten and finally hung. My illumination is the cross which died for my sins.

Verbs
He had a fancy to make verbs from nouns and thus he goes with the word flower. He cast his wand into its water and came up with the verb—flowerate. Yes, flowerate means a lexicon of ecstasy and catharsis. He loves to flowerate all the time.

The Cheat

She posed herself as a white living in Ghana. By seeing her photos I became bewitched. She was stunningly attractive with a sexy body and beautiful auburn hair. Initially when I called her she refused to answer me. At last this day after Christmas, she spoke and by her accent and speech, I came to know that she was a black woman. Then when I accused her of cheating me, she replied that Sabrina the so called imposter had left for US and she is a friend using her Sim. She even conned me to send 100$ and I did.

The Story of Poop

Elephant Poop: ‘I am large enough to cover the earth. I am the biggest mammal in poop-history. I have won poop-accolades in the history of poop’.

Ant Poop: ‘My poop is as small as dust and I cover only a tiny fraction of the earth. So what if you are the largest: mine is the smallest.’

Now it’s poop time: let’s share our poop…. Ant poop ejected poop fragments of poop on elephant poop.