the sieve and the sand » writing

Anyone

beighartman — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 04:51:59 +0000

There’s nothing special to it:
Anyone could write these lines.
Just like anyone
Could search for truth
Find it.
And still refuse to believe.
I guess it’s not for everyone.

for things like this – an apology to historians

Roger Mugs — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 08:41:47 +0000

my lack of works surpassing
a single syllable seems consistently
to lead to poems with lines nearly
or at least visibly
unrelated
but the thoughts seem so tangible
when my fingers move and they spit themselves
out
before i manage to complete the thought
reminding me

i cannot think without these words
my thoughts do not form without me
speaking
farting
or writing

and button after button this
idea makes it into history.
something i’m writing
because i’m unable to simply
dwell on it

inspiration – once a necessity, now a mere luxury

Roger Mugs — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 13:50:13 +0000

mud
sweat
beers
the many words they help to conjure
rides and runs and
bitter cold
with blue sky – and snow
benches dedicated only be filled with you
- together
street lamps lonely and frozen
out of place
off the grid
mysteries
water balloons shot at distant trains
epic battles with snow balls
with fevers
overheating and overeating
the “phew!”
the proud
the in-betweens
and you

muse you are and muse you do
now life can be lived without you

Craft

Julio Chapluzki — Tue, 20 May 2008 18:10:07 +0000

Although, I trade in words,
I long to make writing my craft;
craft like a carpenter of old,
finding beauty in the mundane
and glory in the dull.

derailed delusions

Roger Mugs — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 02:50:42 +0000

the railroad tracks behind my
old house
remind me of the roads i

used
to

want to take
and how i left many of them behind
to write and to run

writing brings my fingers joy
and running brings me delusions
filled with grandeur

i don’t write too good
my england nor so too powerful

but i’m probably the best runner in the whole wide
world

when i run
beside the railroad tracks
behind my new house

my fingers are happy now
i need some delusions