A poet was there just navel-gazing, too unbothered to even care for people around him acting the same. That’s when, by chance, his eyes glanced at her navel; they gazed. The paragon of grace, that’s what he said.
Continued on the next page
On Reading, Writing, Attention Span, and Bull Riding — or How to Build a Shitty Analogy, and Write About it With Confidence
Reading might feel like bull riding these days: eight seconds (at most), and most of us are off. The time it takes to read roughly forty words, a paragraph like this one — that’s our average attention span. It might be less, but hardly any more than that.
A writing might be a Bodacious bull or a meek one (strength under control). Undeniably, though, we have more bulls to ride (writings to read, stimuli competing for our attention). “Er…” Go ahead, say it. “Now that’s some ‘bull shit’ you are talking about.”
How do you plan your writing so the reading is of a comfortable pace (not too fast, not too slow) and are not an overwhelming force (too much information thrown together, too dense language) for the reader? Attention is valuable and scarce in the digital age.
So, enough with this writing. I don’t want to overstay my welcome — not for this particular writing. I might have gone to extremes just to make a point (I might fail, but I put enough thought into my writing). See you next, net cowboy.
I wrote it and went running.
First of the Series: Translating my Portuguese Poems
Automaton
circumstantial nomad
automaton in the desert
while there is breath of wind
I tend to aim for a balance between literal translations and formal equivalence. In this case I can only say that both the original and its English version have cool distinctive free rhythms.
The original, in case you wonder:
Autômato
nômade circunstancial
autômato no deserto
enquanto há fôlego de vento
You wish!
“I wish you couldn’t read my mind like this”
Writing stuff this often isn’t helping
Skidiving
S k y d i v i n g
I’m so ecstatic I could die
But damned it be this parachute
if it fails to deploy
past this minute of free fall
No moment is too good
to be lived so fatally
id est
like the real last
Yet adrenaline…
A fun activity to do in a Reveller Life
Which activities make you lose track of time?
Writing, of course. And related activities (to writing and the creative exercise), since the question asks for more than one activity.
I’m writing this at my lunch time, while the cooktop’s fire cooks my rice (and heats the beans). It won’t burn, I promise (eyes wide open, always). I’ll fry eggs in a moment.
I wrote something earlier, that it’ll be fun to share with you. Additionally, I take advantage of the fact that these prompts are popular and get more views than our regular posts — and they receive all the love you have to share.
Life as a jester, surrealism. Bing.com/create
Reveller Life
Aha! How life is.
There it goes at night to get some fun; here it comes in the morning, listing from side to side like a drunk.
It has the skill to walk a tightrope; on eggshells, on hot coals — yet is not afraid of the walk of shame.
It’s living itself to the fullest. Life, don’t you think you’re the coolest? Respond to it like the jester you are.
“Ehe, how you are. That’s so you to think up those lines.”
I love writing — I might start doing it more for a living.
Ah, lunch’s ready. Let’s enjoy lunch time.
Layers of thought — and writing
So, you do think about thinking, huh? But then again, that is you merely thinking.
Sorry if that makes you overthink and, as you now think of it, this is just meta overthinking. Relax, do not think about it, er — I mean, think.
You do not always need to create mental subprocesses — you are not as good at multitasking as you have been told. If it makes you feel better, we are in the same boat.
You are dispersing energy; trust me, you will need it later.
Now, excuse me, I have just heard a “Pen down, time is up.” Oh, thank gosh. I am just as tired as a manual laborer — and all I have done is to write all day. You know, to write is to think.
From life to inquiry: 10 certainties I embrace
List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.
I certainly live
I will certainly die
I certainly read
I will certainly write
I certainly believe in dreams
I will certainly deny a lie
I certainly feel the breeze
I will certainly try it
I certainly know a thing
I will certainly, for more, inquire
Fallen Souls
Souls which have fallen
from grace
into life
for other souls.
Anyone seeing them standing steady
would highly doubt that they could fall.
They could fall for you, you know?
They could have fallen many times before.
You may not know whether those are old souls.
They stood up, that’s it, so they could fall again.
Free fall.
Ink Over Blood
Rain down the reign
Wash away royal blood
The old king’s dead
Long live, new king
Provided the kingdom remains
Gold rule, dark days,
Poet lies, folk sway.
Word wars, fake lore,
King dead, none lead.
See, these four-word verses
Like the four-letter words
Picture a wicked world;
Curse all the kings
For the poet’s takeover.
[The poet takes over.]
T!el Fajardo
Feb. 10, 2024
Reveries That I Call Poetry 