Friday, February 22, 2008

The Embarker

The Igloo Oven is my own personal playground for words. A recess for my own experimentation with language. I'm a big fan of setting pen/fingers on keyboard in motion and running the stream of consciousness wordplay. Strange scenarios, beasts, figures, and lands emerge through this bridge of dreams and literature. In many ways this blog page will be my workshop, for bouncing and charging new fiction projects through the form of : dream logging, ranting and raving, pointless diatribes, poetry, essays, parables. A lot of what I'll spew into this page will be mud, a linguistic Freudian potpourri, but I'm hoping some sort of raw, nutritious vegetable will sprout up and ferment some mind ballads and visceral tales.

A poem to start things off:

A brittle fever,
dusts the mind's
lucidity of grip.
Over the turn
of events that must
be relinquished: the
tide has got to sweep
him to his success at
the dawn of a new
development in his
thought and manner.

Don't let him fight
the fever too quickly.
Unclasp his hands and drop
his melting body in to the
riptide of experience.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

C'est le matin de l'Embarker. Moi, un enfant, prennent et mangent votre petit déjeuner...