Calling

Blogging has become an incredibly enjoyable, expressive and cathartic exercise over the past few weeks, which partially explains the sheer volumes of recent postings. If it's not being read by a single soul and I'm bellowing into an empty wilderness - all the better.

I found a poem which, according to the date tag on the file, was created on 9 January 2010.




Calling

Counting down the minutes

Burning the candle

End upon end upon end

Distorted reflections in black casing,

Behind holes appear numbers

that branch out under the soil

putting my voice to yours.

Delay. Fuzz fuzz fuzz.

Blistering fumbling sounds

echo as I mutter something

about the day past

Sweet transition,

You speak. Water to 

parched lips. Light 

to the prisoner. 

CLICK down the handle 

a wave of decompression 

floods the neon room