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Poetica of a Divided Life

As a matter of convention I will provide a quick summary of the following surreal description that may be difficult to understand for my level in the craft:

This blog will contain from now on a story or poem conceived in the moments of, before, or after my new schedule of working on the craft called writing-everyday from 7:30-10:30.

What follows is a lengthy description of why I chose to do every day so.

 

I write this page out of convention. Though I do not believe in convention. I write this page on the working convention. I work every day, become a slave to the craft. Though I do not believe in “slaves” nor do I “craft.”

What follows next always follows. It is the convention of schedules and modules. Though I do not believe in schedules only cajoles. Though I believe in everything happening all the time.

So I work away according to hours. Working man like Walt Whitman, “Everything is ours.” For everything is time –
“Are you go’na leave ’em out! or put ’em in-the spider?”

Within these hours I may post something of magnitude. But, as I say, I do not believe in hours or altitude:

7:30-10:30 every day

Eventually the work numbs the brain. You become numb to work and work flow. You have only your emptied, dead, robotic body. Occasionally a “misstep” will remind you but you slowly become dead. Unless you force yourself into the words into the mysterious, you will die while in life, sleep while awake. You may plunge yourself into the thick breathless dark. Until you become the breath of death you will only find torture and insane man. Being death you may offer yes’s and no’s and build a silent peace on Earth. In America this is how things work. Kill thy neighbor or let thy neighbor kill you. There have been more killings than compromises. We are on the way down. That is the nature of our souls. We are obedient to temptation. My temptation is to write every day in step with my ancestral track to my celestial track.

I’m using the tool of my ancestors. Though I do not believe in apparent “masters.” That’s why it’ll be mostly surreal and experimental.

This goes on, starting normal, ordinary as convention like a schedule and slowly becomes more surreal and abstract the more I work. Like the fight between life and death.

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15 Comments

  1. Wonderful thoughts in your page there. Without writing I am nothing. Me, too. There’s so much writing I suck at, but if I can’t write, I can’t breathe. Been journaling since junior high. Thanks so much for the follow. Back at cha. Looking forward to getting to know you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! I was just thinking about changing this too because it was written a while back. I might keep it now though, for it’s meaning still resonates with you and myself.

      Like

  2. Hi Jared Thank you for wanting to follow my poetry adventures. Very interested in all things paranormal conspiracy theories the truth lay within and observing life! Writing is a passion that keeps me sane and alive. Good luck with your writing. Great to meet you. The Foureyed Poet.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Heyas, thanks for stopping by on my blog and the follow. I really appreciate it. It seems to me you have quite a strong connection to your writing, pouring your thoughts and feelings onto the paper. You seem to have a more strict schedule, even when you do not call it anything like that, something I perhaps could take some pointers on. I will look forward to reading more of your work. Thanks again.

    Liked by 1 person

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