Friday, January 23, 2015

poetry || Scott Thomas Outlar

Excerpt from One Hundred Poetic Points

Point number three

Not so much (too little) a point (inward), as it is a blanket (freeze the warmth) of information (forgotten data) broadcast (can you hear me?) from my mind (conclusion).

Point number four

I can't seem to close (I) this (am) deal (spent).  I crush the pain to feel the joy.  I love humanity so much it hurts.  The hate that the species inflicts upon itself leads me to feel (empathy).  Damage is done to the collective consciousness –  this is simply not good.  I make the choice to form an opinion (righteousness?) that hatred is not a good thing (does anyone disagree?).  It serves to further the halt of progress, a slave toward stunting growth.  My profound (on to the next) statement of truth (relative to awareness) in this (that – *) is * hatred is not good.

Point number five

I'm flowing away into the abstract, or is it that originality (copied mimic) is taking (got taken) hold (lose grip).  Love is the hope I have my faith in.  I have witnessed (sensual understanding) the positive effect (casual causation) love has (have some) had on life (truly living).

Point number six

Food (the cycle) is necessary for survival.

Point number seven

I hunger.

Point number eight

Answers open avenues toward more questions.

Point number nine

Here I am.  I am here.
An island.
The harsh truth is: The truth is harsh.
I have come to understand.
I am aware.
These proclamations have much meaning, but more so when I flesh them out into thoughts, opinions, an agenda.
Stroke the skin.
Emotional reaction; what once seemed as if magic, now a chemical response.
A known.

Point number ten

Originality is the concept continually making a presence in my consciousness, a nest (mess) of my mind (cleaned).  There is a format with infinite abstraction tangents flowing (river rain) off of (washes) it.

Point number eleven

I am at a (dull) fine-tip.  (parenthesis)  [mathematics] I am in a (decided) waver-mode.  Absent convention (circus show), I find myself on a (gather round) path leading through the (known) unknown and (far, far...) closer to the (...away) known.

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