A Dali into Surrealism
Baneful
I've had writer's block for too long. By forcing myself to write it likely
makes it even worse. But here is a 10 minute attempt, it's rather pathetic.
I've been very apathetic lately, it takes away from my writing.
* * *
once the crackle of conversation
arched its spine about gas lanterns
but now the parade has moved on,
and the children are sedated and naked in peppermint-swirl gutters
ears bleeding lips twisting bloated worms
* * *
She lived in a town where people kissed on the bridge, and insect halos
hovered and dug into their acne. At 15, she miscarried an inside-out snake
into the toilet, and it tried to eat itself. She had earlier neglected her
hamster, whom she didn't much care for and often bit. After remarking upon a
peculiar smell arising in her bedroom, she had found it unconscious in its
aquarium. It appeared to have a pulse. She stared at it for over an hour, and
then decided to try to wake it up, merely because she wondered if it could be
done. She went to get water, and when she got back she realized it had gnawed
most of its front paws off out of hunger or anxiety. She dripped some water
into it's slightly agape mouth. Its pulse looked uneven. In a few minutes, a
worm emerged from its throat. It was small and white with a bloody middle. It
squirmed around in the water. It was evidently dry inside the hamster. Then
more worms came. The hamster might have been alive, or the pulse could have
been the movement of a large number or maggots. It really seemed irrelevant to
her since both possibilities presented living things. Small worms gathered
from one of its ears, a hesitant one poked from a closed eye. A fat one fell
out of its mouth onto the wood below, and seemed rather dissatisfied with its
decision. It smelled. She decided to bite its head off, and preceded to do
so. It was warm and rotten, hairy and hard. She hated hamsters. Once in a
while, she would run over them on the sidewalk over and over again. She loved
frogs, she married them sometimes with dandelion bouquets. But frogs were
never faithful. They ate each other. Sometimes she felt nauseous. She often
ran herself hard just for the pleasure of retching. It was a good
nipple-licking life, once in a while someone's cock would suck an unborn
cardinal from her womb, but she had cemented up her cervix and belly button to
minimalize this problem. It wasn't the guy's fault anyway. Cocks were
naturally hungry for birds. They liked to beat them. Gym teacher like young
Taoist boys and hypnogogic imagery. Elephants walked on high heels with a pad
of flesh to soften their step. Elephants never forget. They give abortions by
administering gas from large black fetus balloons. People watch the child get
suck into a sink, and chat amiably. Sometimes a priest gets baptized with the
blood, but this is rare. People walk like mummies afterward, because they are
drugged up. Abortions aren't easy. You can drop a tub of aborted fetuses on
the pavement in front of a prep school, but that still doesn't make moonshine
divine. Young boys taste like caviar, old cynical men taste like anchovies.
Momma ate Daddy, please don't force me back in too. I'm too big now, Mommy.
How I've grown, watch me spin my head wild. He scuttles like an insect,
shuttles like a spaceman.
Phenobarbital,
---
Official ARC-T Spewer of Obscenity
---
On febrile summer nights I lie in my bed like a corpse listening to the uneasy
sound of crickets, and each moment is a dying ember of eternity placed in my
hand for me to do with what I wish.
Baneful
ignorance mixed in a delightful cocktail.
Baneful
grammar, damn it.
LKIIHNL
Vandysux
into it for one simple reason: it is disgusting. Believe me when I say that I
am not easy to throw off with unconventionality. Far from it, I enjoy it;
that's surrealism.
But just as I don't like bathroom humor, I don't do well with this kind of
material. Take some advice-- delve into some other part of the surrealistic
universe.
Smooth, tanned legs
Crack the night that made me half and
Spray the light that makes me whole.
HoL
> arched its spine about gas lanterns
>
> but now the parade has moved on,
> and the children are sedated and naked in peppermint-swirl gutters
> ears bleeding lips twisting bloated worms
heh, classic. the 'childrens' lips twisting bloated worms here? :)
As for the rest, well, i enjoyed it thoroughly. In terms of criticism, my only woe
is to wonder why some of the parts were injected into the story. Some of it seemed
mere shock factor, other parts seemed symbolic. I only read through 2 times, so I
didn't exactly take precaution to figure out every phraze with analytical intent,
however yeah, some of it seemed to be detached, a change in the story that
communicated little of importance. This isn't a bad thing necessarily, especially
with the wonderful imagery, but I found it disconcerting in some parts.
:)
fender1
>
>I've had writer's block for too long. By forcing myself to write it likely
>makes it even worse. But here is a 10 minute attempt, it's rather
pathetic.
>I've been very apathetic lately, it takes away from my writing.
>
>*personally...i hate hate hate writers block. but what *I* did to get rid
of my writers block was to write a poem about...writers block! :) try it, it
might work for you as well!
>
>once the crackle of conversation
>arched its spine about gas lanterns
>< ok if THIS Is forced,id like to see what u call good work. this opening
is brilliany. the crackle is a good adj. good good...>
>but now the parade has moved on,
>and the children are sedated and naked in peppermint-swirl gutters
<sedated with pheno-barbie-dolls? :) this image is frightening to me...>
>ears bleeding lips twisting bloated worms
><um...yuck...>
fender1
the below is sick to me. but so brilliantly written. my god. this is
terrible but so...good. geesh that sounds silly but it is so
disturbing...that is the purpose i guess, the goal. u have acieved ur goal.
i think im going to vomit..hampsters...yuck.
good (yucky) work!
`fender`
Baneful
>far
>into it for one simple reason: it is disgusting.
God forbid you should ever slip and fall face-first into a rotting feline.
Believe me when I say that
>I
>am not easy to throw off with unconventionality.
The post was really an exercise in boredom and journalistic, detached
description. I think that it was generated from an interest in Hemingway's
journalistic form of writing. It was pretty pathetic, and very openly intended
to be bizarre. So open in places as to be comtemptible.
Far from it, I enjoy it;
>that's surrealism.
You enjoy "surrealism" as long as it's not revolting.
> But just as I don't like bathroom humor,
What, is was a long fart joke? I was trying to express a certain detached
self-disgust, and thus produced something which made me want to write better.
The need to write better after a good bout of writer's block is very healthy,
so I'd like to believe that my subconscious pissed bunch of mediocrity onto the
page to wake me up and create some ambition through self-hate.
I don't do well with this kind of
>material.
Do you filter your oatmeal?
Take some advice-- delve into some other part of the surrealistic
>universe.
My life at this point is pretty surreal. Case in point: today, a boy of no
older than 10 sped by my on a bike wearing a backwards baseball hat and licking
a big ice cream cone like a player pleasuring someone's cunt in hope of
payback. He turned his head verry slowly, ice cream shooting across his cheek
in the wind and shouted "HEY BABY, ID LIKE TO SLEEP IN YOUR COFFIN!!" I don't
even think I had whoremoans at 10, though I have masturbated constantly since
around 3.
>Smooth, tanned legs
>Crack the night that made me half and
>Spray the light that makes me whole.
Whatever, bitch. Posting that crap made me more self-conscious and ambitious,
that was the real intent though I might not have realized it till later. I'm
always chasing after my subconcious.
Baneful
::sigh:: oh, HoL. HoL, HoL, HoL, HoL, HoL....you know that your name is at
once a yonic symbol and a paradox?
>As for the rest, well, i enjoyed it thoroughly.
I at a Marvin the Martian ice cream today. It dribbled down my chin.
In terms of criticism, my
>only woe
>is to wonder why some of the parts were injected into the story.
Yes....It was all haphazard, if you look at my response to another post on this
string, I make a good case for my subconcious trying to tell me how horrible my
writing is in order to give me ambition through self-disgust.
Some of it
>seemed
>mere shock factor, other parts seemed symbolic.
Eh. It's crappy. I've written a lot better.
>I only read through 2 times,
I'm honored :D.
>so I
>didn't exactly take precaution to figure out every phraze with analytical
>intent,
awwww....Next time you post, I'll C&C up to kazoo. I spent some time with
someone I love today. We lay down in a park. It was very beautiful, and OH!!!
An epileptic seizured in the grass, and his teeth rattled like catanets. It
was horribly beautiful and sad at once! I laughed and cried at the same time
and then felt horribly guilty.
>however yeah, some of it seemed to be detached, a change in the story that
>communicated little of importance. This isn't a bad thing necessarily,
>especially
>with the wonderful imagery,
I need to work on my imagery. By using so many words, it makes it more
abstract, I'm experimenting with more solid, less conflicting and more powerful
language. Unfortunately, not in that post :/.
> but I found it disconcerting in some parts.
>:)
:)
::gasp:: your sig's missing.
Igy!
umm.. thanx.... I think
I needed to see my dinner again
--
. o O (Igy?)
------------------------------------------------------------
-- i...@altavista.net ----- http://fly.to/igy ---
-- ICQ 12764764 -- AIM: igy1999 -------------
-------------------------------------------------------------
"I want to live and breathe. I want to be part of the human race"
-RadioHead "The Bends"
HoL
>
> ::sigh:: oh, HoL. HoL, HoL, HoL, HoL, HoL....you know that your name is at
> once a yonic symbol and a paradox?
I won't go into the Cabalic significants... but yes. o the yoni, L the ligam. :)
and H, oh how fun. My nick, started off as a simple reference to a funny game, i
have since found out much about it. Alot of which is rather fitting.
> awwww....Next time you post, I'll C&C up to kazoo. I spent some time with
> someone I love today. We lay down in a park. It was very beautiful, and OH!!!
> An epileptic seizured in the grass, and his teeth rattled like catanets. It
> was horribly beautiful and sad at once! I laughed and cried at the same time
> and then felt horribly guilty.
beautiful things are usually sad.
guilt however, is niether.
> I need to work on my imagery. By using so many words, it makes it more
> abstract, I'm experimenting with more solid, less conflicting and more powerful
> language. Unfortunately, not in that post :/.
Show me.
> ::gasp:: your sig's missing.
glad u noticed. why would i make it go missing? *winks*
HoL
trying vainly to teach everyone everything
what a funny little job it is. especially since
he believes nothing and laughs at teapots.
fender1
<pats igy on the back> its ok, doll, i hear it tastes better the second time
its them damn coleslaw and cheese sandwiches. im tellig ya!
*hugs*
--
*love, hugs and such*
____________________________
*[fender1]*
*[me, myself and i (and the penguins)]*
*[Some people have a way with words, while others.
.. erm. . thingy. ]*
*[AIM: South525 or
S0uthM0uth]*
*[fen...@ix.Netcom.com]*
Igy! wrote in message ...
Igy!
> <pats igy on the back> its ok, doll, i hear it tastes better the second time
> its them damn coleslaw and cheese sandwiches. im tellig ya!
> *hugs*
*turns green*