Labels
good words
the ministry
adoration
a pair of thieves
things that make sense to me
hauntings
carnivore shit
the rules
space travel
conversations with the dead
lucky me
precious precious
yowza
gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh
inky poison fingers
muse shit
celebration
missing
babe central
wake the fuck up
fuck off plebes
good job guys
love shit
patterns
want
folk-song angels
music shit
summertime
prophecies
the fear
bad dreams
dissapointment
ourobouros
vancouver bliss moment
kewl shit
on being a cyborg
sleepwalker
soulmates
unabashed love for canadian poetry
alberta
good city
idea-trove
keep your chin up
private time
springtime
the life
William S. Burroughs
america
das kewt
funny tings
iames augustine aloysius joyce
ifeellikeshit
old world
papa hemingway
real royalty
sadkitten
spain
strange times
time for change
work is a drug
APOD
Nietzsche
Peter Carey
crafts
dancing
dostoevsky
forced forgetting
if i had a dick
nightmares
not allowed
on being a total perv
things are different now
waste of thought
welcome sacrifices
12.23.2010
Dylan Thomas, on writing. From an interview published in his collection Quite Early One Morning
Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitable narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision that depends in its intensity on the strength of the labour put into the creation of the poetry. My poetry is, or should be, useful to me for one reason: it is the record of my individual struggle from darkness towards some measure of light, and what of the individual struggle is still to come benefits by the sight and knowledge of the faults and fewer merits in that concrete record. My poetry is, or should be, useful to others for its individual recording of that same struggle with which they are necessarily acquainted.
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