Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Don't Know, Do Know
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Don't Know, Do Know
i don't know why. i
do know why. i do,
i don't, know why.
why, no, i don't
know why. i know
why i don't know
why and don't
know why
i know. i don't,
i do, and i
don't know how
it is for you.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
)
)
)
Don't Know, Do Know
i don't know why. i
do know why. i do,
i don't, know why.
why, no, i don't
know why. i know
why i don't know
why and don't
know why
i know. i don't,
i do, and i
don't know how
it is for you.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
Lemon Harangue
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Lemon Harangue
hey, it's hard to do
anything. yeah, but
you have to try. hell,
we all start out as
squirming blobs of
flesh and then
get push-pushed
to join reality.
later we get
volunteered to
join this mess,
society. with
a system like
this, who needs
chaos? for
today, stop
haranguing
yourself, although
it's a good word,
harangue.
do what you can,
if you can, and
know that doing
anything is hard.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
]
]
]
Lemon Harangue
hey, it's hard to do
anything. yeah, but
you have to try. hell,
we all start out as
squirming blobs of
flesh and then
get push-pushed
to join reality.
later we get
volunteered to
join this mess,
society. with
a system like
this, who needs
chaos? for
today, stop
haranguing
yourself, although
it's a good word,
harangue.
do what you can,
if you can, and
know that doing
anything is hard.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
Dramatic Noise
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Dramatic Noise
in the next motel
room, someone's
talking, with volume,
on a telephone.
words get stripped
of their wordness
as they pass through
stuccoed sheet rock.
so what i
hear sounds like
the intense language
of a huge insect
that is related
to a small
electric drill.
it's fascinating.
there's drama
in this noise.
hearing the words
would diminish
that. the noise can
be an argument
about anything.
i'm sad when
the sound stops
and the walls
of the room
i am in begin
to advance on
me, flashing their badges
of splendid, cheap
mass-produced art.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
/
/
/
Dramatic Noise
in the next motel
room, someone's
talking, with volume,
on a telephone.
words get stripped
of their wordness
as they pass through
stuccoed sheet rock.
so what i
hear sounds like
the intense language
of a huge insect
that is related
to a small
electric drill.
it's fascinating.
there's drama
in this noise.
hearing the words
would diminish
that. the noise can
be an argument
about anything.
i'm sad when
the sound stops
and the walls
of the room
i am in begin
to advance on
me, flashing their badges
of splendid, cheap
mass-produced art.
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
Sydney Greenstreet's Younger Days
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Sydney Greenstreet's Younger Days
today i heard
a woman say
of sydney greenstreet:
"in his younger days,
he was probably
light on his feet."
Link: "The Sydney Greenstreet Blues," by Richard Brautigan
poem copyright Hans Ostrom 2011
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Sydney Greenstreet's Younger Days
today i heard
a woman say
of sydney greenstreet:
"in his younger days,
he was probably
light on his feet."
Link: "The Sydney Greenstreet Blues," by Richard Brautigan
poem copyright Hans Ostrom 2011
Wood on Water
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Wood on Water
i now set this out
on waters of
Electronic Ocean
like a small
piece of wood--
white pine
i don't know
where it will go
except anywhere
it's particular
now--of particles
diffused
it could end up
being scanned by
an entity in
another galaxy,
a disappointed
decoder
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
>
>
Wood on Water
i now set this out
on waters of
Electronic Ocean
like a small
piece of wood--
white pine
i don't know
where it will go
except anywhere
it's particular
now--of particles
diffused
it could end up
being scanned by
an entity in
another galaxy,
a disappointed
decoder
Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
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