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An Exploration of Elise
Uncover the Silence
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This
picture
will link
you back
to this
main page
at any
point on
the rest
of the
website.
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R
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C
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A
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B
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A
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T
Y
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So many indistinct lines:
Rules of political correctness
do not hold
and fade away
Ethics so unclear
the media exploiting...
widespread violence broadcasted...
Art vs. Craft vs. Pop culture
where does that line end?
Science vs. Religion
theories that lead only to more questions
with no absolutes.
History
is a mystery of words,
of prejudiced writings.
Even our own pasts
blur with the passing of time
even when committed to the written word.
And all of this objective use of language
is the cause of ambiguity.
My words will one day be a great relic of the past --
A taste of a life,
a sliver of time that is now so long completed;
recorded moments in time
that are not "historical" or "accurate"
but instead, are a record of individual responses to that time.
What is the point of being obscure, vague and ambiguous
unless it is somehow emblematic.
And perhaps it is -
emblematic.....
Perhaps poetry,
in its manipulat
ion of words its use of ambiguity --
utilizing the indistinct lines of meaning
playing with semantics and syntax --
is the only way to accurately portray
our responses to these times.
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Click the pictures below to view different collections of my poetry.
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Following
the Echoes of
Circumstance
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Not
egotism
or
vanity
just
curiosity
about
the
most
important
person
in
my
life.
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Pieces
of me
fragments
of me
a collage
of me
a montage
of me
to recreate:
take something
and make something
but never from nothing.
Explore the possibilities
of me
and this is the result.
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Personal
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SPELLING ERRORS
AND TYPOS
IN ABUNDANCE...
How cathartic...
to know that
someone else out there
also makes such
trivial mistakes...
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Informal
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Noodles on the brain
not noodles
NOODLE
"Noodle" the word.
No object
only letters
little phonemes
consonants
vowels
a word.
It wants me to bite through it
but it is not real
... concept
conceptual.
I cannot understand it
It connot be reached
Incomprehensible
The word
Noodle
How Ridiculous...
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I wrote a letter to you in my head, as I folded hundreds of country club newsletters which would not be sent to me. It continues to sit there, on the tip of my tongue, on the tip of my pen, waiting to be realized. The newsletters long ago reached their destination. Still I wait to write, reveling in the words as they wait to be released. This letter is now a book, and it fills my head with wonder, because though it was once for you, I now realize it is mostly for me.
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Some links to links:
A Couple Philosophy Links
Internet Search
Films and Movies
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May,
perhaps,
lack
literary
merit but
oh, so
sincere.
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Here I am
Naked
Bearing
my Soul
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"... as my eyes fell on the pad of white sheets, I was struck by its look and I stayed, pen raised, studying this dazzling paper so hard and so far seeing, so present. The letters I had just inscribed were not even dry, yet already they belonged to the past." Sartre's Nausea
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