Comments on: The observed miracle http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/ stargazer, muddler, muffle-jaw, cockatouch, spoonhead, hookear, gudgeon, grubby, blob, bull-rout, blue garnet, miller's thumb Tue, 27 Jul 2010 15:42:14 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0.1 By: Sculpin » too hot for fedoras http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-90196 Sculpin » too hot for fedoras Wed, 03 Jun 2009 01:52:42 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-90196 [...] Previously. [...] [...] Previously. [...]

]]> By: Julie http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1124 Julie Thu, 02 Feb 2006 11:34:19 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1124 Meraviglia lives with Nell's silence which is like an idling, overhot Ferrari. It's an effort to breathe and stay loose. Her poet-friend Gia accuses Nell of lately smelling manly, perfumed but not unlike a jailbird struggling with a very large security guard. The two sing terrible duets, like Bono to himself on stage at a State Fair, all about armor, chickens, chums, while Death pulls at his navel. Seven horses trot around in circles, one has beautiful Della on its back. Contras in berets are shouting out libelous things. Meanwhile a magician dressed in crepe fucks Nero with a bent rose which does nothing at all for his aching back. Meraviglia lives with Nell’s silence
which is like an idling, overhot Ferrari.
It’s an effort to breathe and stay loose.
Her poet-friend Gia accuses
Nell of lately smelling manly, perfumed
but not unlike a jailbird
struggling with a very large security guard.
The two sing terrible duets, like Bono
to himself on stage at a State Fair,
all about armor, chickens, chums,
while Death pulls at his navel.
Seven horses trot around in circles,
one has beautiful Della on its back.
Contras in berets
are shouting out libelous things.
Meanwhile a magician dressed in crepe fucks
Nero with a bent rose
which does nothing at all for his aching back.

]]> By: Cam Sculpin http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1113 Cam Sculpin Fri, 27 Jan 2006 05:13:39 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1113 That is the poem I wish I had written. You rock. That is the poem I wish I had written. You rock.

]]> By: SW548 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1112 SW548 Fri, 27 Jan 2006 05:10:36 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1112 Poetic Dementia The Margarita lives in silence I come to resuscitate it While sorting cheese by force ...and accumulating poetry Nellie thinks it smells like a latte: her pallate in convulsions the infinite poo of gods song she plays canasta on the terrace as a ferret eats the calculator My love gives me allergies careening like a dead oboe I sit and stare into the vortex Hells Bells! the ferret is under contract! as we tremble to hell's lullabye the magic crepe is fucked the ferret, Nero, bites my spent rose and blood shoots from my spine Poetic Dementia

The Margarita lives in silence
I come to resuscitate it
While sorting cheese by force
…and accumulating poetry
Nellie thinks it smells like a latte:
her pallate in convulsions
the infinite poo of gods song
she plays canasta on the terrace
as a ferret eats the calculator
My love gives me allergies
careening like a dead oboe
I sit and stare into the vortex
Hells Bells!
the ferret is under contract!
as we tremble to hell’s lullabye
the magic crepe is fucked
the ferret, Nero, bites my spent rose
and blood shoots from my spine

]]> By: Cam Sculpin http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1111 Cam Sculpin Fri, 27 Jan 2006 01:34:33 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1111 It was nearly "love, chickens, precious stones." It was nearly “love, chickens, precious stones.”

]]> By: Rechercher http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1110 Rechercher Thu, 26 Jan 2006 22:15:32 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1110 Personally, I thought the best line was the one about the "love, onions, (and) precious stones." I'm sure Shrek would agree with me anyway. Personally, I thought the best line was the one about the “love, onions, (and) precious stones.”

I’m sure Shrek would agree with me anyway.

]]> By: oddangel http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1109 oddangel Thu, 26 Jan 2006 19:08:34 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1109 Wonderful! The first two lines are my favorite. Wonderful! The first two lines are my favorite.

]]> By: Cam Sculpin http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1108 Cam Sculpin Thu, 26 Jan 2006 18:57:44 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1108 Hey, getting it right is cheating! :) Hey, getting it right is cheating! :)

]]> By: gromit http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1106 gromit Thu, 26 Jan 2006 16:34:21 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1106 hey, that's really close to what i got. do you speak italian (or spanish)? (and sculpin, no, i don't mind at all.) hey, that’s really close to what i got. do you speak italian (or spanish)?

(and sculpin, no, i don’t mind at all.)

]]> By: Torquemada http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/comment-page-1/#comment-1105 Torquemada Thu, 26 Jan 2006 15:14:09 +0000 http://www.sculpin.com/journal/2006/01/25/the-observed-miracle/#comment-1105 Wonder lives in silence Like flowers breathe in the light. Perhaps this is your fate, Dear poets, received already In Lethe's perfumed shadows: But still speaking, to convince The infinite peoples of dreams. You sang of the good earth, The iron age that chases after us, The love, the pollen, the gems, The dead caress of oblivion. You return in the lightest Vortices of your beauty, So that you will always come to meet us In the trembling of dragonflies, In the magical crackle of the fire, From the black of spent roses To the blood of burning thorns. Wonder lives in silence
Like flowers breathe in the light.
Perhaps this is your fate,
Dear poets, received already
In Lethe’s perfumed shadows:
But still speaking, to convince
The infinite peoples of dreams.
You sang of the good earth,
The iron age that chases after us,
The love, the pollen, the gems,
The dead caress of oblivion.
You return in the lightest
Vortices of your beauty,
So that you will always come to meet us
In the trembling of dragonflies,
In the magical crackle of the fire,
From the black of spent roses
To the blood of burning thorns.

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