Sunday, November 8, 2015

Stop Turning the Pages.

Stop turning the pages.

Has it been unseen by another?

I never remember.

It has taken route.

Since I wrote it, the rhythm is write.

Is < better or  > worse?

I never remember.

Where next? What next? Who next?

We are becoming meme, from capturing the unexpected.

Is all not well in this multiverse?

I never remember.

Is this text sacred
(he asks after already embedding it)?

It is only what you perceive.


That last chord fades away.

Since I wrote it, the rhythm is write.

Don't you prefer to listen at full volume?

I never remember.


So much that is written in Twitter exchanges is never remembered.
I took ten minutes to stroll down a stream...turning the pages.
 I added a line which stuck me from Wendy Taleo.
I scribbled down some lines on a piece of paper (rare for me).
I looked at the jumble.
I reassembled and muddled around until the above emerged.
What is hidden here?
The source tweets.
The original meaning.
The people.
The contexts.
The times.
All  lost.
Perhaps never to be remembered.