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Nisargadatta , " Anna Ruiz " <nli10u@c...> wrote:

> A memory stirred. You may remember. Or

> You may read and ........

>

>

> Anna

>

>

>

> http://www.artvilla.com/wordplay/index.php?p=675

>

>

 

 

 

sam: quite a dark usage of words, which capture the on-going and

relentlessness quite nicely.

The lines that stood out to me were:

 

who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations

which in the yellow morning were stanzas of

gibberish,

who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas

dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for

Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their

heads every day for the next decade,

who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess- fully, gave

up and were forced to open antique stores where

they thought they were growing old and cried,

 

 

** and in the yellow morning the stanzas of gibberish yet again make

me shake my head. We have become the masters of gibberish.

Gibberish gurus and devotees.

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Nisargadatta , " sam_t_7 " <sam_t_7> wrote:

> Nisargadatta , " Anna Ruiz " <nli10u@c...> wrote:

> > A memory stirred. You may remember. Or

> > You may read and ........

> >

> >

> > Anna

> >

> >

> >

> > http://www.artvilla.com/wordplay/index.php?p=675

> >

> >

>

>

>

> sam: quite a dark usage of words, which capture the on-going and

> relentlessness quite nicely.

> The lines that stood out to me were:

>

> who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations

> which in the yellow morning were stanzas of

> gibberish,

> who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas

> dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,

> who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,

> who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for

> Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their

> heads every day for the next decade,

> who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess- fully, gave

> up and were forced to open antique stores where

> they thought they were growing old and cried,

>

>

> ** and in the yellow morning the stanzas of gibberish yet again make

> me shake my head. We have become the masters of gibberish.

> Gibberish gurus and devotees.

 

 

 

 

 

........rechewing the regurgitated cud .......of an empty memory.....to gleen

just enough sustinance to keep the hungry ghost moving......through its isolated

dream time.

 

.....confined to its own thought bubble.....adift in an unknowable

ocean.....alone.

 

 

 

toombaru

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