Poetry Thursday

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I'm not exactly sure what the prompt is for this week's Poetry Thursday, but from reading some of the other's poems for this week, it seems that it has something to do with math or mathematical proof equations. So, I've posted one of my original fractals to go with my poem today. Fractals are made by manipulating mathematical equations. It was discovered in 1988 that when certain mathematical equations are manipulated in certain ways, that they produced line, color, shadow, etc...

I picked this particular fractal to illustrate my point according to the prompt this week that life is not a linear equation as I spoke about in response to Black Bank's poem I read earlier today in which I realized that in my answer, I figured out what I was going to do for this week's prompt. Weird how that works, isn't it?

Linear Equations Have Skint Nees

Chubby cheeks
reaching unsteadily
for whatever is in Eye's and Reach's view.

Watery, drooling smiles when Reach produces SomethingClose
and Happiness ensues.

Cruising, falling, and then again gaitingforwardunrestrained like a babygiant
whose steps shake the foundations of the world.

I learn by stuffing everything into my mouth and making it my own
by slathering it with my slobber.
I learn what things do
which things are for what things
what things are Good
what things are Bad

I gnaw at mylifeeverything
I runfallonmypaddedbutt everywhere I go.
I learn and unlearn
I forget and then remember.

Stove Is Hot
Snow Is Cold
Redfacedangrymad because I yearn; I want and don't get
Smilecolors when I get crayons to draw what I see; my life

With gripcastiron in my slobbery-fist the crayon hits paper
paper crackles
I Like Paper
I Like That Sound
jerkyerratic movements make the lines, shadows, colors, moods of what I see
my life
I Like Crayons
Like Colors
Make Cirles
Straight linesbutnowtwisting and abruptly stopping
aboutface making circleswithincircles
then trailing off from redtogreeen, bluetobrown
I Like Colors
Like Crayons

Testing a crayon in my well-experienced-mouth-tester makes it my own
and I stab a furry dot on the carpet
off the paper
I Did Something Different
new vista
new view
my life
Drooling over my fisted crayon
making more fuzzyconnecteddifferent-colored linedots
Mother Is Here
Look What I Made

my padded bottom smacked
no lintyfuzzycolordots on the carpet
stay on the paper

Oh Mother, the paper is old news
old hat
I want the whole carpet
or nothing at all

Socrying I'm put to Bed with wetcrayonhidden halfdisolved in castfistedgrip
Mother leaves me crying in my Bed
my life
I still have that crayon in my wetdrooledon criedon hand

With practiced, fluent movement
I pull myself up on the bars of my Bed
Cruise around to the Other Side
I Make Dots On The Wall
my life
© Robyn Fenner



Blogger twilightspider said...

I love the frantic, erratic pace of this poem. It seems like babymath to me - adding up the world around you to find a whole, to find yourself.

The language is so perfect for what you're illustrating, I was with you the whole way.

February 01, 2007 5:27 PM  
Blogger pepektheassassin said...

I felt like the baby, I WAS the baby while reading this interesting poem!

February 01, 2007 6:41 PM  
Blogger blackbank said...

Love the way this is written and laid out. Cool. Like how you've worked the response to my poem into a great piece of writing. Reminded me of James Joyce, to be honest. BB

February 02, 2007 12:03 PM  
Blogger Anias Nin said...

Black Bank:Wow! That's quite a compliment! Thanks!

I'm so glad you guys liked this. It was written sort of hurriedly. I didn't even write it down on paper before I put it on my blog. It was born on my blog. Only after I was finished, did I actually write it down in my poetry notebook.

I was kind of nervous that it was too jumbled, too vague. I don't know. But again, I'm just glad you guys liked it. :-)

February 02, 2007 12:21 PM  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

I like the narrative like state of this peom. It kind of speaks out to me.

February 03, 2007 3:43 AM  
Anonymous GeL(Emerald eyes) said...

I see the comment I thought I left is not here. If what I wrote was too personal or too long, please tell me in email.I'm sorry if I upset you in any way. I thought I was complimentary.

Your writing is unique.I hope that type of comment is okay? Please let me know via email. Thanks.

February 06, 2007 9:43 AM  

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