Thursday, May 31, 2007

Playing With Hypertext.

Below is a poem I wrote a few years ago about my husband. We were having an affair, still, back then, and he would disappear and reappear from my life in these foul-ass ways...Smitten as I was, I continually read into his actions, his behaviors, explained and justified and cried, much like what I do now. But in this poem, I was trying to pare the language down to its absolute core to capture the moral dilemma of my inappropriate love and to explain why I didn't feel guilty.

I thought it might be fun to play a game with hypertext, which is something I always wanted to experiment with, but I never had a blog before. So, readers, you are my guinea pigs. Each word has been tagged with a website that explains some layer of meaning...this is the funnest game of all time! I highly recommend it to everyone! It takes a long time, and I'm going to bed before I finish...but it's fun!

The best part is hiding fun things in there. I've got secret links to my best friends, my husband, myself, everything and nothing; it's a nexus of anonymity and nonsense top secret revelations. It's a collage, and there's music, and I'm in love with myself. Hang on while I go yank off.

(Wow. That took me a long-ass time. It was still fun, though!)


She eats,
she wipes her mouth,
and she has done no wickedness.
She had been hungry.
Now she is not.
Your god points his finger at her
and calls herWhore.”
Your god is breaking her plate.
You imagine this god
bending over a flower
and shouting, “Repent!
But I have seen him writing in the sand.
On a warm and windy afternoon,
you stop before the bridge the city is building.
All that is in place is the two main beams
with thin wire stretched along the guide rails.
You are weighing if you have the gumption to cross.
In the twilight,
I look through my window
and I see a young man without understanding.
I see him coming near my house.I have made an offering.
I have paid my debts.
I have kept my vows.
I have perfumed my bed.
So won’t you come?
Take your fill until morning.
Worldly sorrow brings death,
and you make the world sorrowful.
Drink. Eat,
and let me wipe your lips.
There is atonement in Joy.


Spiky Zora Jones said...

Chica...You rock! I could spend hours here. where do I prop my feet...oh yeah.

I love the poem. It says so much. It expresses just enough abstract thinking to draw me in and make me feel as if you knew my secrets

The game is fab...I love it. It's like scratch cards at the AM-PM. What's under this one? Surprise!

Thanks for stopping by.

Anonymous said...

Holy shit! I'd go yank myself, too, if I accomplished something like this one!
I am IM-pressed, girl!
Now, I'm gonna spend hours going through it, k?