detached
elapsed 
severed
abstract
forsaken
absent
missing
discrete 
free
gone 

"You take huge steps, trying to feel the planet's roundness between your feet"

- Annie Dillard (Pilgrim At Tinker Creek)

Cityscapes - Jeremy Mann

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                            by Jeremy Mann

A pause.
What a lovely place
To be caught in a futility
Of metallic lead rods
Infusing oceanic chambers. 
For what is the void behind your unconscious?
It seems to disappear.
And who are we to ask?
Are we not a void ourselves? 

I am blind

And this is the day that I write. When the curtains are drawn from the cloud enveloped stars, where the sadness kicks in, where the motionlessness hovers over my mind just like one of those clear umbrellas that surround your head, but leave your feet to the rain. Then your feet soak up the water on the ground because that’s the only way you can see. This is not inspiration; it is the feeling of a poet. Seeing by the feelings, blinded by the sensations all within a distracted force. This is writing; and it is not my air, it is not my passion, it is just what is simply done. And I cannot help what is simply done.

 

Loneliness is only love's hologram.

It hangs above your head just like a star.

But when you know it's burning out,

You give it one last nod and then it's gone.

And then it's gone

 

 

 

Snowmine - Hologram   

It is all an illusion until you've stricken it a reality. Only then does it harm you, and you, it.

San Cisco - Reckless

Top bands

At A Loss

I am on current mental vacation. Nothing has come to me recently. Nothing flows.
Also in a stated of happy sadness and confusing details. What has come of this?
Yes, writer's block comes and goes and I accept it, but how inconvenient. Right when I need to write, I am at a loss. Not necessarily for words or their placement, but of the ideas that are behind those words.

Trice Atmospheric Thoughts

Thirsty thoughts of life and love and death. What values go astray? Life - for the sake of longevity; Love - for the sake of lust and the false; Death - for the embarrassment of dying in discussion. And do we think this not? Some may. Inopportune descriptions of handwritten memories - well, quite possibly we in total remain hand written. But these in handwritten lies.

Where did the desire go? Where did that of haste?

lack of sleep
tea over-dosage
mad writing
comparison to rain 

Tree Sound

What would the trees sing?

The rings of a tree trunk interpreted by Years (bartholomäus traubeck).

He sings so beautifully
How I've desired the accompaniment.
And it's moments like this
Where I find myself helpless
Please, tell me what to do.
Overwhelmed and devastated
I pull my hair and break my back
In compensation for emotions
That cannot handle themselves.
Madness?
Maybe so.

"When love is not madness, it is not love. "

Pedro Calderon de la Barca








One sided madness