

Song / Poem Pertinent to the Origins Conference (April 3-6, 2009 at Arizona State University):
[Keeping track of all my thoughts that were racing across my head, eh? Yes... I probably thought of this poem at least 10 times throughout four days.]
Who's gonna know anything anymore?
Who's gotta know anything anymore?
I only got a hold of a piace of the puzzle.
The clowns oversee t'black clutch of my juggle. ["clutch" or "catch"]
Who's gonna know anything anymore?
Who's gotta know anything anymore?
Who's gotta know anything anymore?
If I don't really now, then how can I decide?
Floating on some islands with-uh wish-wash tides
Just a chop of my ears and a poke of my eyes
A surge of ignorance remains my serving guide--
To move forward.
To move forward.
To move forward.
To move forward.
I first showed this poem/song to JL and he said that he didnt understand one of the lines--I am assuming it was the 8th line--at the time, all I could think of was "abyssmal abide," which was like "what in the hxll was I thinking at the time?" I must have been in a super-duper creative rut... and/or I was just a little bit too deep in my head. The creative juices are otherwise running rampant now....
No comments:
Post a Comment