Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Music Machine



On the page the paper breath cracks:
swooping glyphs open their black eyes
and yawn a linear series of numbered sounds.
The grid weaves away
a shaking topography of compressed breath and screaming strings.
Formulas shiver into listening
splitting twilight into sunrise.
Notes both sharp and long
punctuate and scale the blueprints
of a time machine looking to be made through the power of sound.


(a magpie poem)

10 comments:

  1. Exquisite ... a delight to read!

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  2. Incredible images. "Formulas shiver into listening splitting twilight into sunrise."

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  3. As always your images pack quite a punch.
    I love "and yawn a linear series of numbered sounds" (why can't I yawn like that?).

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  4. Blueprints of a time machine. Brilliant!

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  5. swooping glyphs open their black eyes

    I loved this image...

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  6. "..shaking topography of compressed breath and screaming strings.." Wonderful.

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  7. love your words...
    well done tale.

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  8. Oh wowww!! What a fantastic image you have created with your words here...really lovely!!
    A delightful and superbly musical take on the Mag!! Really enjoyed this one, my friend..

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