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Skull Soup v.2 (Other) by SupremeDreamer

[well, first revisal, old version included at the bottom.] v.2: "Words like spices in my gumbo leave most asking what dwells within the murky waters." All thats said and written will be distorted once expressed, for we are slaves to symbols; isolated beings assimilating everything as we see fit into our own alien realities. "I boil and brew this stew as would a deranged alchemist in love with creating his potions." I am a poet; an artist who tries to achieve something unattainable. That fact alone gives me meaning, purpose, and glory. This fact leaves me smiling slightly, dragging on menthol cigarettes and muttering softly "Say nothing; just stir the soup that simmers in their skulls add meat 'n spices and pray it doesn't taste like shit." This reality though it might be completely absurd and foolish is my paragon. Everything else? Garlic 'n Honey and a cooks drollery. ___________________________________________________________ Old Version: What are words but symbols spoken and written with vague definitions and assumed meaning? What do they convey? An image which might be clearer if shown with the colors possessed by a painter? An emotion which one has felt, better understood if we endure its sensation as he who receives it? A message that would be understood if read or heard by he who speaks it? Does it really matter what? All thats said and written will be distorted once expressed, for we are slaves to symbols; isolated beings assimilating everything as we see fit into our own alien realities. Did I mention that we claim to communicate? What are these questions but distractions that puzzle our thoughts leading to answers that solve nothing? What was the point of this verse of mine? Nothing. And that is the beauty of it. I am a poet. I am an artist who tries to achieve something unattainable. That fact alone gives me meaning, purpose, and glory. This fact leaves me smiling slightly, dragging on menthol cigarettes and muttering softly "Say nothing; just stir the soup that simmers in their skulls add meat 'n spices and pray it doesn't taste like shit." This reality though it might be completely absurd and foolish is my paragon. Everything else? Garlic 'n Honey and a cooks drollery.

INTRANSIT 15-Jan-04/6:37 AM
Not quite. intermix the theory with the cooking. Make it SLOPPY! It's too neat. We can see what's in the soup. Make us taste it. I know. It's painful to break it up and start over sort of. I can show you one of mine where My metaphor was so good I had to extend it and the poem morphed into something better. if you want.




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