Saturday, June 27, 2009

prompt succor

The prompt was: "Radiant screed. After the gold rush."

Riddled Twice


she bled

into the morning's blood

orange, carnage best

from above,

Viekko's dreams
within her

its awful harangue,
a screed signaled
in the green

flash of day's

end. Withered:
the acres of gold,

the seeming
the dreaming

of the inarticulate




Blogger Teresa said...

I love the picture that matches your word pictures. "Radiant, she bled into the morning's blood orange..." while I'm out here "dreaming in the inarticulate west." (with the philosophical surfer bassists :P)

5:17 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: I dug the color of the picture, too. An old favorite novelist - John Hawkes - from the 70s had a novel entitled The Blood Oranges. The fruit and the title and the book have stayed with me through the years.

I don't know how inarticulate things are out your way: I was definitely thinking the lunar landscape of west Texas: Cormac McCarthy.

I like this new school of philosophy you're devising. Otto Rank and Brian Wilson?

7:00 PM  
Blogger when the musics over said...

"Withered the acres of gold". Loved this, I can see a rolling sea of autumnal prairie, pock marked with herds of bison.

Nice prompt, btw. I needed a clearer head sort that one out.

9:45 PM  
Blogger Tammie Lee said...

your words:
she bled
into the morning's blood

for me are rich and draw me in...

12:07 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Miguel: Rolling sea indeed, in this leftover ocean of West Texas and beyond. Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian (or The Evening Redness in the West) was in the bloodstream as this was rolling out...

12:18 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Miz Lee: I'd love to see a blood orange sky captured by your eye.

12:26 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Definitely Brian Wilson. He's among the founders of the school. And at times very inarticulate--bababababara ann. bleeding orange juice so bad he stuttered her name. but made mucho dinero from his ramblings, nevertheless.

will the waves he once rode soon evaporate under the orange red sun until the LA basin looks like west Texas? Then where will all the surfer bassists go? They say we will have a water shortage this year...

Your blog is quite fun!!

12:36 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Ah, Ms T, that bleeding orange juice was pure carnelian (have one in my wedding ring). Back when just about any idea could find purchase in my "brain," I read that with the coming "world changes," the west coast would be Idaho. Your bass contingent can just surf right on up. I knows for a fact (personal experience; 6 month Moscow "sabbatical"), they've got Mardi Gras and the Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival. Bassilosophy among the Idaho Vandals: yeah, I'm feelin' it.

12:59 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

I spent a summer in Moscow, Idaho, when my dad did a teaching stint there. I did not see any Mardi Gras or Jazz Festival, just heat. Very boring for a 10 year old.

1:46 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Y'all came too late. They do these two festivities in the dead of winter. Unlike the southern version, their MG involves the colors black and white - and cows.

Perhaps the most glorious spring I ever spent was in the Palouse Empire. Shortly after folks took down their Christmas trees in April.

I take it that's a big N-O on bassilosophy in the Palouse.

8:21 AM  
Blogger anno said...

Sublime, paschal. This just might be perfect.

9:24 AM  
Anonymous Teresa said...

Not necessarily, just getting my facts straight and making sure you hadn't gotten too much red orange west Texas sun. I can see surfer bassists at a black and white mardi gras, but not riding cows. I can also see them at a Palouse Jazz festival and then hopping over to wake board at Lake Pend Oreille.

10:10 AM  
Blogger when the musics over said...

Perhaps I should mention. Here is my entry!

7:25 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Michael: I'll be right over...

7:43 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Anno: Thank you. I liked the feel of this one a lot. Maybe it's the orange font.

7:49 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Oh, there's no question that I've gotten too much red orange west Texas sun.

I like where you're going with the bassists: hope they do, too. The world can do with a good half dozen more surfer bassists. At least.

7:53 PM  
Blogger Dee Martin said...

what is this prompt?? is this new? I am stamping my virtual foot LOL

This is, by the way, glorious!

2:22 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Ms Dee: The prompt was mine. Back story: Over at MichaelO's, I was bitching about how the one minute prompts were slaying me over at One Word. "Sandal" pushed me over the edge. The inimitable Miss Alister (The Duchess of Muchness), knowing my arrogant penchant for bitching about the Sunday Scribbling prompts, pipes up with, "He's always bitching about the prompts. Tell him to come up with his own." Across the proscenium of my fevered brain, these words appeared (not in Italian): Radiant screed. After the gold rush. Duchess sniffed; she was not impressed. I think there was drinking going on, but how this was done via the internet, I've no clue. Miguelito was less dismissive, and came up with his own beauty over in his backyard.

You are welcome to jump on the bandwagon. There's plenty of room...don't fear the Duchess: she likes you, trusts your Austin a lot more than mine.

2:57 PM  
Blogger Dee Martin said...

well I have to admit - toys gave me pause... I jumped. Remodelling Psycho Style

8:04 PM  
Blogger San said...

I'm partial to "time['s]...awful harangue." The sound of it, not the truth of it.

1:42 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

San, I'm with you. I just writes 'em: I don't necessarily want to be livin' in 'em.

3:09 PM  

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