calamari, anyone?my muse is a cephalopod.i'm subject to her squiddy whims.with ten arms wielding staves and rods,any rebellion could be grim;it's dangerous when we're at odds.i'm subject to her squiddy whims;it's dangerous when we're at odds,any rebellion could be grim.my muse is a cephalopod...i could drown in severed limbs.
beyond the dark lineNow I seeWhat may be,Though it's no certainty(the unknownextrapolatingforever)Why did IStart to cryWhen it was not goodbye?(the finitelosing its self inthe endless)Things work out better whenPeople put trust in them(what is selfbut a reflectionof not-self?)People fearWhen they hearThey'll lose what they hold dear(hope and fearare meaningless inunity)But it's wrong,just be strong,And it's there all along(the true sourceis the end and thebeginning)Change may come till the endPersevere until then
shokuga tutorialshokuga (or hybrid) form is derived by placing haiku/senryu between the stanzas of a pantoum.pantoum is a malaysian form of poetry, highly cyclical and structured in nature. i feel the best way to describe it is to annotate a poem to highlight the structure.the letters in parentheses denote an entire line of text, not simply a rhyme pattern:(A) tinkering(B) with the forms(C) thinkering(D) with no norms(B) with the forms(E) as lab rats(D) with no norms(F) mind abstracts(E) as lab rats(C) thinkering(F) mind abstracts(A) tinkeringthere is no limit to the number of stanzas, nor to the meter/syllable count per line.the only real rules are the stanza structure, line repetition, the reversal of lines (A) and (C) in the last stanza and the needed rhymes in the alternating lines.while it is a fairly simple pattern, the challenge lies in bringing the poem into a finish that makes sense.to make this pantoum a shokuga, write haiku/senryu that expound or illustra
skein of thoughtwith words we're weaving,this warp and that weft;a sea we're sieving,seeing what is left.this warp and that weft,a cosmic symbiosis;seeing what is left,an unrevealed gnosis.a cosmic symbiosis'tween thought and matter;an unrevealed gnosis,in quantum patterns.'tween thought and matter,a caldera of creation;in quantum patterns,re-embers to awaken.a caldera of creation,roiling quiddity;re-embers to awaken,sweet ubiquity.roiling quiddity,for never was no thing;sweet ubiquity,the threading of being.for never was no thing;a sea we're sieving.the threading of beingwith words we're weaving.
the great sturgeonmossy-scaled ancient,cold river's leviathan;truth behind the myths.with monsters die our wonder;avarice slays innocence.
in the church of the blind the one-eyed are saintsthe multiverse before me spreads.on this vast strand of cosmic threadsmy soul now stands in joy and dread.lost and found in goddess' hands;on this vast strand my soul now stands.by ignorance i am struck dumb.i, insensate (deaf, blind and numb),must contemplate; the myst'ries plumb.as is and is not variegatei, insensate, must contemplate.
pre-copernican soulEarth wobbled oncefrom her celestial pedestal,though no one living now recallsa universe that centered elsewhere.On dark nights, on certain cloudy days,we may believe it still.the soul of sciencecannot afford to ignorethe science of soul.
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