Word Experiment # 1 VAPOR (please place your writing in the comment zone)





I can no longer take the heat,
I am dissipating like the clouds that form each morning
above the Willamette River.

Each morning they are torn apart
and left to there own foolishness.

Soon I too will be an apparition
and you will be pawing at the early winter sky
with all your kitten love.


By the way,

while we are on the topic of love,
my dear,
sweet love,

Too often you expose me,
I am not built for this.

You are the fully risen sun, and I am evaporating.
your warmth, consumes me continuously
and I am finding it difficult to breathe in such an atmosphere.

I am no good at this,
you see…..
I am breaking up.

Wonka Vision couldn't handle me,

I am gazillion radical molecules
angrily buzzing and dancing,
once again, off beat.

I am just waiting for some sort of highly reactive combustion to take place,

My ions are bouncing between hemispheres,
all my static electricity is climbing ever upward.
Each atom trying to escape this molecular dance of death
before I disappear into the nothingness
of another god damn day.

February 2, 2012 at 9:04 AM

Comments

BT said…
Please write your poems/word association/writing in the comment zone and thanks for playing. Hearts and Ponies - BT
February 2, 2012 at 8:54 AM
BT said…
Stand back
and let me rise.

Or each glance I throw
will burn through you
like grapefruit acid
spit in both eyes.

I can no longer take the heat,
I am dissipating like the clouds that form each morning
above the Willamette River.

Each morning they are torn apart
and left to there own foolishness.

Soon I too will be an apparition
and you will be pawing at the early winter sky
with all your kitten love.


By the way,

while we are on the topic of love,
my dear,
sweet love,

Too often you expose me,
I am not built for this.

You are the fully risen sun, and I am evaporating.
your warmth, consumes me continuously
and I am finding it difficult to breathe in such an atmosphere.

I am no good at this,
you see…..
I am breaking up.

Wonka Vision couldn’t handle me,

I am gazillion radical molecules
angrily buzzing and dancing,
once again, off beat.

I am just waiting for some sort of highly reactive combustion to take place,

My ions are bouncing between hemispheres,
all my static electricity is climbing ever upward.
Each atom trying to escape this molecular dance of death
before I disappear into the nothingness
of another god damn day.
February 2, 2012 at 9:04 AM
Holly Swan said…
Effervescent free fall

Eclipse epitomized

Tantric tantamount

Blusterous blustering

Encapsulated musings

Vociferous violence

Abstract archetypes

Gluttonous glowworms

Firebrand fortunes

Crystalline silica

Truncated trapezoids

Faulty feathers - falling

Fierce blaze

Attenuated attachments

Elaborate labyrinths

Ethereal tangents

Gripping dispositions

Fundamentally flawed

Sanctimonious

Prefabricated mysticism

Why choose vapor when you can
ground in your authenticity?

Disable your inability,
your vapid transpiration.

Manifest from the ethers
into raindrop communities.

Cycle through infinite worlds.
Become a system's crystal ball.

Remember.

as dictated to me by Green Bog Orchid
February 2, 2012 at 8:27 PM
Maisie Janda said…
Ed Norton played a guy with cornrows in jail for setting a house on fire. His parole officer asks him about his "epiphany" and he says, "I don't even know what the word epiphany means." I think that's funny because something in my official record claims I had an epiphany too, and I wonder how many people have it in real life. In my epiphany I saw some kind of white vapor in the air in random places indoors. It was a kind of odd static fog and I wondered what it was. I sometimes come across references to it in anecdotes I read and hear. It happens, it does exist. But what is it, exactly?
February 3, 2012 at 10:54 AM
Anonymous said…
vapor.
my thoughts like vapor spread out, a lovely texture on the lasting landscape, but when I reach out and grasp, nothing remains. my ideas still floating. I only hope that someone, somewhere, sometime, can make something meaningful out of them.
February 3, 2012 at 10:04 PM
Jason fee said…
Grey hues in sky above,
As night gives way to civil light.
a mysterious apparition rises from
meandering stream.

A reflection of solitude, time
Slows down as if in a dream.
Seasons change. Time stands still.
Gentle breezes foster winters chill.

At second glance streams not there.
Only a trace. Vapor in the air.
Time is vast in this precious place.
Must not hesitate before
We reach of critical state.

J.Fee
February 4, 2012 at 8:54 AM
M said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
February 5, 2012 at 9:29 PM
M said…
Apparently it's true that sometimes things look much differently in the morning, because I re-read the poem I posted here late last night and needed to - for lack of a better word - "vaporize" it! I won't throw in the towel just yet though, so it's back to the drawing board.
February 6, 2012 at 9:59 AM
Miss Anthrope said…
My tired lungs suffer from a multitude of afflictions: an inexplicable three-year cough, inactive tuberculosis, and twenty years of dope-smoking to name a few. This is their only relief, my brave alveoli. It is silent and peaceful in here, the only sound is the steaming plop from ceiling to floor which comes sporadically from every direction. The steam clears and I begin to see the empty tile room, moist and dripping.

A man walks in, flabby paunch folded over Speedos, thick thighs like white sausages. He sits on the other side of the room to break the silence.

"So, do women come here to meet men?" he asks me with a sly chuckle. He is twenty years younger than me. A fat little boy. What the fuck do I know about what people do? A sharp hiss breaks the silence and fills the room with thick steam and he begins to disappear. The eucalyptus burns my lungs.

"I'm not sure...but I think men generally come here to meet other men," I say.

A minute later he walks out.

The door swings open again and cool air rushes in. The steam begins to clear as an egg-shaped woman waddles in and sits where the boy was. We don't speak. I don't know if she sees me. I listen to the sound of her thick, arduous breathing. I hear her shift. There is a sudden sound like thick, wet flesh flapping in the wind. Then another sharp hiss covers the moment in steam and the smell of eucalyptus.

A moment later, I walk out.
February 6, 2012 at 8:59 PM
BT said…
Thank you so very much to all the poets who have participated this week. You are all fabulous creatures.These are great exercises and experiments to get the mental blood flow going. I hope you will all continue to write. New post will be up each Monday with various themes or words. Any suggestions are welcome. If you have not yet posted your piece about "VAPOR" post anytime, there is no rush. If you think you know someone who would also like to play, please do invite them. Again, Thank you for participating. -BT
February 7, 2012 at 8:20 AM
BT said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
February 12, 2012 at 2:54 PM
J Fee said…
Last line "of" is suppose to be "our"
February 17, 2012 at 1:42 PM
BT said…
No worries, so glad you are writing, keep on going, this is a place to explore words/writing and get support from other writers. Seriously keep going. Cheers - BT
February 17, 2012 at 1:50 PM
BT said…
man. you get me every time. It was so beautiful, you really are a powerful writer. the shaman in you is exposing itself. It just flows through you, like you've said it before, somehow. You make me want to write and I thank you for that. xoxox Thanks again for playing love and thank you Green Bog Orchid
February 25, 2012 at 12:55 PM
BT said…
I do believe you are a poet my friend, i find it so hard to believe that you have never experimented with writing before. Really, your a natural. Go Go Go
February 25, 2012 at 12:56 PM
BT said…
I saw an electric green mist once, it came up to me and checked me out, slowly looking me over and decided to more on. maybe it was an epiphany too.
February 25, 2012 at 12:58 PM
BT said…
I hear you words loud and clear they are as rich as the landscape, so I'm knitting a tiny net so together we may gather the vapor together. You are very clever my friend. Miss you much. xo
February 25, 2012 at 1:02 PM
BT said…
Sometimes, I wake up and realize that i just sent something out into the world, that just maybe I'd like to take back, so sometimes you just have to Vaporize It!
February 25, 2012 at 1:05 PM
BT said…
You try and get some respite, but no, people. They always want to talk. I'm not so sure that this is very relaxing, but hopefully your lungs were happy. The imagery is perfect. I can almost smell the eucalyptus and feel the steam. the characters remind me of NYers somehow. Saunas are such a strange places. I have a love hate relationship with them. Once again wonderfully done. Cheers
February 25, 2012 at 1:12 PM
J. Fee said…
Just finished "Carbon" started it 3-1-12 today its 4-5-12 im trying to post it, only see first 3. On my phone, ill find it. :)
April 5, 2012 at 10:04 AM
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